Page 139 of That First Flight

I clear my throat, swallowing any emotions I have thinking about the past. “What did you have in mind to do for her?”

“My mom really loves homemade gifts. One time in school back in Montana, I gave her an ornament for Christmas that we made in school. It was a clay mold of my hand and she cried. It was her favorite gift ever.”

“I’m not crafty like that.” I laugh.

“I wasn’t talking about clay ornaments. It’s not even Christmas, silly.” She giggles. “I’m thinking of a home cooked meal. I think that’s why she likes to cook, ya know. Food is the way to the heart, blah, blah, blah. I think I want you to help me make her something yummy for when she gets off work.”

“Done,” I say as I leap off the couch.

“Really?”

“Stop questioning me, Kenzie. I’ll do whatever you want to do for your mom. What did you have in mind to whip up?”

“One day, before we moved here, I made her teach me how to make French toasts. So that way I could make her something some mornings out of love. But I’m kind of sick of it.”

“Is that why you make it?”

“It’s the only thing I know how to make.” She shrugs.

Mackenzie is so young but she’s so mature for her age and it blows me away every time she reveals something to me. On top of that, she’s got the biggest heart on the planet. Knowing she learned to make French toast for her mom as a small gesture to show her that she loves her makes my heart thump in my chest.

Food is the way to the heart.

That’swhy Macey loves cooking so much.

“What else does she like that’s not breakfast?” I ask.

“She likes anything Italian.”

I walk over to the kitchen and Mackenzie follows. I reach in the pantry and pull out my ridiculous apron and another small one I got for Mackenzie recently.

“How about we keep it simple because I can’t cook either,” I tell her, and we both burst out laughing.

She grabs the apron from my hand. “Is it for me?”

“Yeah. You like it?”

Mackenzie examines the pink and purple mermaid skin apron and her mouth twists with emotion. “I love it. Mom is going to love it. She’s going to think I’m the best helper ever.”

“We both already know you are.”

She nods and puts it on.

“How about we make spaghetti and meatballs? It can’t be that hard.”

“Oh! I can pull a recipe from online.”

“Let’s do it.”

While she pulls it up I grab some ground beef and an assortment of things I think might go in meatballs. I don’t know the first thing about them. They taste amazing, but I’ve never cooked them.

“You know what drives me bonkers?” Mackenzie asks.

“What?”

“When you look up a recipe online and you get paragraph after paragraph of the person's life and why meatballs are so cool before the actual recipe. I don’t need to know what inspired the recipe or your trip to Italy. Just give me the damn recipe.”

I freeze where I’m standing, staring at her unblinking with my mouth slightly parted.

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