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HARDCORE: Storm MC(169)

By:Zoey Parker




She shrugged. “It’s okay. I watch TV and play games until people get up. I don’t have to wait too long.” She was the most patient child I had ever known. I guessed a lifetime of waiting made a person more patient.



“What do you say we make breakfast for everybody?”



Her eyes lit up. “You know how?”



“Are you kidding? I know how to do lots of things.” We went to the kitchen, which was fully stocked. I guessed once Gigi came along, it became important to be sure there was plenty of food available. I looked around.



“What will we make?” Gigi tagged along behind me, watching as I pulled out ingredients.



“I think this is a good day for pancakes. What do you think?”



“Pancakes are my favorite!”



I smirked. “Have you been eating them every day this week?”



“No. Yesterday we had eggs, and the day before that, we had cereal.”



“Okay. Pancakes it is.” I didn’t want to serve something they’d been eating for days on end, like the spaghetti.



“Gee,” I said, looking at the ingredients. “I’ve never cooked them for this many people at once before.”



“You can do it.” Gigi smiled at me in that way only a totally trusting child could smile at an adult.



“You’re right. I can do it.” I pulled up a recipe on my phone and multiplied the ingredients to make more servings. Flour, milk, eggs, sugar, salt, butter, baking soda. They even had vanilla extract.



“What are you doing?” Gigi asked as I poured a splash of white vinegar in a measuring cup full of milk.



“I’m making buttermilk. It’s science. See, when I add the vinegar, watch how the milk clumps up.” She watched closely as the milk separated. “It makes it very tangy. I’ll leave it there for a while, until it gets thick. When I mix it in with the baking soda, it’ll make the baking soda foam up a little bit, too. That makes the pancakes fluffy.”



“I didn’t know cooking was science!” She giggled. “I feel like I’m in school with you and it’s only Saturday.”



We laughed together over that. Then I went to the large griddle pan and turned it on.



“I think I saw bacon in here somewhere…” I found a large package and laid the slices on sheet trays.



“You’re cooking it in the oven?” She sounded amazed.



“Yes, ma’am. It’s easy to do it that way when you’re cooking a lot at once. My mom used to do that when she made big breakfasts at home.” My heart clenched a little and tears squeezed my throat. How many Christmas mornings had I spent in the kitchen with her? I used to watch the milk turn to buttermilk, just the way Gigi did.



“You had a mommy, too?”



I smiled through the threatening tears. “Sure, I did. Everybody has a mommy.”



“Not everybody. Some people have two daddies, the way Evan does.” Evan was one of Gigi’s classmates.



“That’s true. He has two daddies. Some people have two mommies, too. Some people only have their mommy or their daddy. You’re very right. I had a mommy and a daddy.”



“Did your mommy teach you how to cook?”



“She sure did, kiddo.” Again, it was tough to fight back the tears. I turned away, putting the bacon in the oven, then tested the griddle for readiness.



“Okay! Let’s put some pancakes on the griddle.” Gigi watched in fascination as I poured batter onto the pan, and explained how the batter got hot and cooked. “This is science, too,” I explained. “It’s all science.”



“And it’s yummy,” she added.



“Yes. Science can be yummy.” I left her to watch the pancakes under strict orders not to touch the pan, and turned to the coffee machine. It didn’t take long before a large pot was brewing, and I flipped the pancakes when I finished getting it set up.



We repeated this process through four batches, keeping the pancakes warm under foil. By that time, I heard noise coming from the lounge.



“See who’s out there,” I whispered. “Tell them breakfast is almost ready.” She marched out proudly to announce that it was almost time to eat. I heard cheers, and chants of “Gigi! Gigi!” I smiled from ear to ear, admitting that it was extremely sweet to hear her treated that way.



“I can’t believe you did all this!” Erica walked in, still in her pajamas. I waved a hand, showing it was nothing. She helped me finish up, getting the syrup, plates and such. By the time the last batch was finished, the bacon was also ready. I put it out on a big platter, and Erica called the troops in for breakfast.