Beverly stood in front of the skillet, his hands working at pancake mix on the pan. Normally, Red would be found cooking both breakfast and dinner, but Beverly hadn't spoken to him since the night before. And truthfully, he wasn't too comfortable asking the guy to make him breakfast.

But with Red sitting in the living room, watching reruns of an old tv show he claimed to be his favorite as a child, Beverly could hear the faint sound of Red chewing on chips.

Chips.

That's what Red was eating for breakfast. Anything to avoid speaking to one another, Beverly thought as he flipped the pancake onto its other side.

Red's cellphone began to buzz on his lap, him frowning until reading the known caller. Monica.

He slid the button to the right, holding the gadget to his ear. "Hey, Mon—"

"When the hell are you coming down here? Mom won't stop going on about how soon she'll be able to see her baby boy again. Cole feels under appreciated." Monica laughed.

Red laughed at the mention of his younger brother and his erratic tendency to want anything Red had. "He always feels under appreciated."

"Don't avoid the subject, Matthew McCoy, when are you coming?"

"Uh, I don't know, when should I come?" Red's voice showcased his confusion, him pausing to eat another chip while Monica answered.

"Uh, how's today? You get on the road by tonight, and you could be here by tomorrow. I won't tell mom, and you could surprise the shit out of her." Red smiled at the thought.

"Okay, I'll be there tomorrow."

Red stood from the sofa, shoving the bag of chips to the side. He walked his way into the kitchen, leaning against the open doorway.

He watched Beverly cook, him slightly afraid of the popping sounds coming from the skillet. The fearful movements made Red smile. He knew Beverly wasn't used up cooking, but he was so clueless as how not used to it he actually was.

"Hey, you," Beverly flinched at his voice. "Pack your shit, we're going somewhere tonight."