Chapter 25: Who is the Boss?
Derek's Point-of-View
"You're stirring that wrong." She said while she hovered over my shoulder. My nostrils flared a little in annoyance "You need to give it a faster whip or you'll get lumps, no one likes lumpy pancakes."
I beat the pancake batter faster as she instructed and pinched my mouth shut. She woke up bossy this morning, and normally I liked her being bossy, I loved it, sometimes it was even a turn on. Not when she reminded me of…. her mother. I had the "pleasure" of meeting the woman when I was a teenager tagging alongside my father at a medical conference.
"Put them on the griddle before the dough gets to stiff!" she scoffed at me "Jesus, why am I the only one with a brain around here!"
"Last week." I sighed deeply as I spooned the batter onto the griddle "Last week you didn't know who you were…this week you're Hitler?"
"Excuse me?" she spat.
"Nothing." I sighed "Why don't you go order Delilah downstairs."
"Delilah." She frowned "Who's Delilah, is she your little girlfriend? You don't have time to have a girlfriend; you need to work on studying for your culinary test."
My heart sunk a little. As bossy as she was being, she really didn't know any better. I turned to her and smiled.
"Delilah is our daughter." I said, "She has a doctor's appointment this morning and she needs to come eat."
"Daughter." Her eyes clouded as she fought to find the memory "Daughter!" her eyes grew harsh "Really Garret, are you making up lies to distract me now? Pathetic! Really pathetic!"
Great…now she was calling me Garret and reprimanding me like one of the kids.
"Now you have two seconds to flip those pancakes or they'll be ruined!"
"There's nothing wrong with making them a little crispy." I defended as I flipped them over "Some people need a little crunch in their lives."
"The only people who make and or enjoy burnt pancakes are lazy people Garrett." She hissed as she swatted my arm with a spatula "Get it together or get out."
"Ouch." I mumbled as I rubbed the sore spot on my arm "I get the point without you hitting me."
"Could've fooled me." She glared. The doorbell rang and I looked at the clock, I frowned wondering who would be at my door at 9 in the morning.
"I have to get that." I said, "You stay with the pancakes."
"Oh no you don't!" she scolded "You get back here, this is important! If you keep stepping out when you're needed your life is going to be nothing but one big mess."
"Thanks I'll keep that in mind."
"For starters your kids need to listen to you better, and this wife of yours wherever she is needs to come home because you so clearly can't handle things on your own."
"I'm handling things just fine." I murmured as I reached the door.
"Somehow I disagree."
I rolled my eyes as I opened the door and was met by two men in dark blue uniform, Seattle's finest. My jaw dropped as I wondered what I did to deserve members of the police department at my doorstep.
"Dr. Derek Shepherd?" the older of the two asked.
"Yes." I frowned "What's going on?"
"Is your son Winston Shepherd?" they asked.
It was just then that I happened to look past them to my eleven year old son standing on the steps of the porch with his hands handcuffed behind his back.
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" I hissed.
I let out a heaving sigh as I felt a body press up against me from behind and peer over my shoulder just before mumbling into my ear.
"Told ya."
What do you think Winston did?