80 THE CEDARVILLE REVIEW This morning, I was feeling better when I opened my eyes, and besides, breakfast was homemade French toast with real maple syrup. Mom smiled at me as she poured vanilla flavored creamer into her coffee. I drink my coffee black, just like— Never mind. After we ate, Mom asked me what I wanted to do first. In past years, there were so many options that we packed each day as full as we could get it. Nothing, I wanted to say, but I knew Mom wouldn’t take that for an answer. Then I got an idea. Maybe I could go back to the barn today. “I want to walk by myself,” I told Mom. “Please? You could stay here and bake cookies,” I added. “I would love to do something together,” said Mom. Her eyes were hopeful. “We will,” I said. “Tomorrow. Please?” Mom looked sad when she answered. “Okay, Jake,” she said. So I put on my boots and climbed the snow-covered hill to the stables. Today, Jeremiah was mucking out stables. “Yo, my favorite kid is back,” he grinned when I walked in. “Wanna give me a hand?” he joked, his shovel full of manure. “No, thanks,” I smiled back. My eyes were on the speckled gray mare from yesterday. I crossed the barn to her stable.
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