Read Online The Calendar of New Beginnings by Ava Miles - Free Book Online Page B

yolk. Please, God. He scooped them onto a plate with the toast and added a liberal amount of ketchup to hide the burn. Usually he was light with the condiment, but today he added it liberally. Danny loved it on hot dogs. Maybe it would work with eggs.
    “Come and eat, Danny. I’ll look for your shoes.”  
    He poured Danny some milk and set his own uneaten yogurt on the table. Danny shuffled into the kitchen. Rufus trailed after him, his head hanging woefully. It was hard to stay mad at a dog that acted so guilty.
    “Grab a fork and a spoon. I’ll be right back.”
    Andy flew up the stairs, throwing up bed skirts and searching through closets.  
    “Dad!” his son called. “My egg is burned, and the yolk’s not runny.”
    So much for the ketchup disguise. “Eat my yogurt then.” He could grab one on the way out the door.
    After five minutes of crouching down in ways a grown man simply shouldn’t, he admitted defeat and chose another pair of shoes with a sense of dread. He hated shoe battles with his son. He jogged down the stairs and froze at the entrance to the kitchen. Bits of toast littered the floor. He narrowed his eyes. Danny pushed his egg around on his plate without looking up. Rufus plopped down on the floor beside the table and let out a whine.
    “What happened?” He hated asking questions he could answer himself, but it was a dreaded—and unavoidable—part of parenting.  
    “Rufus took the toast off my plate,” Danny said, making fork tracks in his ketchup.
    Andy set the shoes on the kitchen counter, striving for calm. “Rufus doesn’t like toast. That’s why it’s still lying on the floor instead of in his stomach. You threw your toast on the floor because you didn’t want it. What have I told you about fibbing to me? Just say you don’t want to eat it.”
    “I’m sorry I fibbed,” Danny said in a heavy tone. “I think I’m allergic to toast.”
    How did kids figure out how to incorporate topics from their parents’ careers into their arguments? Allergies, indeed. “I’m the doctor in this family. For the record, you don’t have any allergies. And you know grains are good for you.” Andy slid his yogurt over to his son. “Try the yogurt.”  
    Danny made gagging sounds. “I hate yogurt. Alice Adams says it tastes like chalk.”
    “You liked it last week.” Great. Now other kids—worse the daughter of his childhood bully, Jason Adams—were influencing his son’s eating habits. “It does not taste like chalk.”
    “It does to me,” Danny said, crossing his arms.
    Boy, he was in a mood today. Usually, Danny was the sweetest kid ever. Andy tried to remember these moments were blips on the screen. “Fine. You have two minutes to choose something from the refrigerator to eat. Danny, you need to hustle. We’re running late.”
    While Danny studied the contents of their fridge, Andy shoveled in the yogurt. His son picked out sliced cheddar cheese and ham sandwich meat, so he rolled the cheese and meat into pinwheels, handing them to Danny one at a time. As a breakfast, it wasn’t the best, but at least it would provide him with a good portion of dairy and protein.
    “I’m full,” Danny said, rubbing his belly. “See.” Then he stuck it out, laughing.
    Rufus barked encouragingly, and Danny ran over to hug him. Andy made a couple of extra pinwheels for himself since he knew he’d burn through the yogurt in his rounds.  
    “Time to get dressed,” he said after chewing. “I couldn’t find your navy shoes, so you’ll have to wear these.”
    Danny stuck his chin out. “I don’t want to wear the brown ones. We have to keep looking.”
    “You are so getting the Whine-Buster when we get home.” Andy poured his cooling coffee in a to-go container. “We don’t have time to keep looking. Let’s get you dressed stat.”
    “But, Dad—”
    “No buts, mister. Upstairs.”  
    Danny moved to the stairs like a turtle in a three-legged race. “I don’t want to wear the