23
Dany
I get up early to make amends. I run out for coffee and donuts. Chocolate filled long johns, cake donuts covered in cinnamon and sugar, apple fritters, and huge cups of blacker than black coffee. When Jack stumbles into the kitchen, bleary eyed with hair sticking up straight, I hold out the box of donuts as a peace offering.
“Would you care for a thank you, you’re amazing, please don’t hate me for getting you arrested donut?” I ask.
Jack rubs at his eyes and looks down at the offering. His lower lip forms a pout. “You didn’t get sprinkles,” he says.
I laugh and set the box on the kitchen table.
“Coffee?” I ask. “It tastes like diesel fuel scraped off a rusty lead pipe.”
“Mmmm,” he says. “I take it with sugar.”
I open the sugar jar and measure a liberal spoonful into his cup
