Jacob Andris has made chocolate exactly once in his life. When he was younger, he got in the idea that he wanted to make some homemade chocolate for his mother, and he confided in his dad about it (after debating on trying it himself … wise choice, kiddo). They managed to figure out all the ingredients and gather them without Mariana ever figuring it out … until she found the mess they made of her usually-spotless kitchen.
Luckily, the chocolate turned out okay, so Jacob and Nick were forgiven, though banned from the kitchen for a few days after that.
Jacob Andris at 8 years old. Content Warning: Ailing family member
“Jacob, baby, you can come in the room if you want. He’s awake and we can all talk for a while.” Jacob looked up from his waiting room seat to see his mother’s tired face peeking out of the thick hospital door. The bags under her eyes had become a constant feature of her face, and her curls were always untucked from her hasty ponytails lately.
Jacob always pretended he didn’t notice. He had made the mistake of asking her once why she was so tired, wasn’t she sleeping? She had broken down into tears and apologized to him over and over, setting him up with some crayons and paper while she went to lie down.
He stood from his chair and drifted towards the door. The visits were always tense, lately. The nurses at the desk all knew his name, knew his face. They always had their friendly smiles for him, just a kid barely eight years old. Sometimes they’d sneak him a dollar for the vending machines, and in return he’d share his fruit snacks with them.