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“What’s that?” Hailey asked, standing in the kitchen on socked feet, wrapped up in a blanket she’d absolutely swiped from the couch, leaning into the corner of the island.
“I’m making breakfast?” Mouse asked, looking over at her, her hair flat on one side and a nest on the other. Even with the bit of drool crusted to her chin and the pillow creases on her cheek, he could admit she was beautiful. “That’s not a foreign concept, is it?”
“You’re making crepes,” she said flatly.
“Yeah, you love crepes.”
“I know that; how do you know that?”
“I’m your husband. It’s my job,” he replied, turning his attenton back to his batter.
“No, you’re Jay’s husband, and Jay’s my husband,” she said.
“Transitive properties,” he said, whisking to get all the lumps out of his thin crepe batter. “If I’m Jay’s husband, and you’re Jay’s wife, then you’re my wife, too.”
“I don’t think that’s the way it works.”
“I’ll stop making crepes if that’s what you’re getting at,” he said, setting the bowl down when she made a noise of protest. “Yeah, I thought so. Besides, you have had a very rough week, and I thought I’d do something nice for you to cheer you up. God knows Jay can’t be trusted in the kitchen.”
“Heard that,” Jay grumbled as he stumbled into the kitchen, passing both of his partners to go to his one true love, the coffee machine. “Why am I being lambasted at six in the morning?”
“Lambasted, someone’s been studying recently,” Mouse teased as he twisted the whisk around inside the batter in order to break up a hidden pocket of flour at the bottom of the bowl.
“I’m not awake enough for this,” Jay said, pouring himself a cup of coffee and heading out of the kitchen away from them, stopping to kiss both of them before slipping into the living room to stare blankly out of the window while he sipped his coffee until breakfast was ready and he’d emerged to the true land of the living.
“Still, you remembered that I love crepes, and you’re doing this to cheer me up, you don’t have to do that,” Hailey said.
“Sweetheart, I’d do this for you even if you weren’t married to Jay, too. You’re one of my best friends, and you make him happy, and you make me happy, so yeah, I do have to do this, and even if I don’t, I want to.”
Hailey paused and nudged a piece of leaf that had come in from outside and stuck to the tile with her toe.
“Do you have Nutella and strawberries?” she asked.
“Do I have Nutella and strawberries!” he scoffed, and he set the bowl down to duck into the fridge to pull out his prepped bowls of fillings. He set them on the kitchen island and went back to his batter. “As if I would do something as ridiculous as leave out the Nutella and strawberries. What do you take me for? A straight man?”
She snorted and he loved to hear her silly little laugh.
“No, for real though, Hails, I love you, and I want you to be happy and feel safe in our home, so I’m going to make you your favorite breakfast, and remember your favorite toppings, and I’m not going to let you sit around and be sad when I can help it. That’s just not who I am, but if this is making you feel uncomfortable, then I get it and I can step back.”
“No, I don’t mean that. I’m just – between you and Jay, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never had a relationship like this, and not just because of the polyamory, but because you and him, you’re loving in a way that I’m unfamiliar with.”
“I think we’re all in that boat,” he agreed. He was flooded with the cold fear from his childhood all over again, aching for attention that only came when he cut away pieces of himself. They all had aches like that, scars from carving themselves into shapes they weren’t meant to have. “I think it gets easier. I’m still not used to Jay wanting to touch me, but it’s gotten a lot better than it used to be. So, we’re learning, but that’s good.”
“Yeah, it is,” she agreed. “Can I help with breakfast?”
“You can, indeed. Do you want to learn how to swirl the batter?”
“Yeah!”
Together, he walked her through using the crepe spreader to push the batter around into a thin flat cake, and then flipping it over. The first one was a disaster, but the second and third came out better, and by the fourth, he could step back.
“That’s my girl,” he muttered, watching Hailey finesse the spreader around to pan. He sat back and watched, proud, smiling, until she turned her attention back to Mouse.
“Thank you for this, Mouse. You’re an excellent husband,” she said, and she kissed his cheek. “Even transitively.”