Page 27 of Picking Pismo

Waving her pencil at her, Alexis said, “Someone who doesn’t appreciate how good she has it.”

Claire nodded, silently agreeing.

Alexis added, “But her loss is your gain.”

Before Claire commented, the doorbell rang. “He’s here.” Claire smiled, walking toward the door. “I’ll get it.”

“Just make sure you do any kissing out of my sight,” yelled Alexis. “I don’t need that image burned into my brain.”

With a chuckle, Claire rolled her eyes. Walking the remaining distance to the door, Claire opened it, revealing David on the stoop.

With hands full of food, David grinned, melting her middle into a gooey mess. “Hey, beautiful,” he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. Claire held open the door for David to enter. He passed through the door. “I hope I’ve got enough food.”

“I’m sure whatever you brought will be great.” Claire closed the door behind David, then she motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

Arriving in the kitchen, David set the food on top of the kitchen counter. From her spot at the table, Alexis eyed the bags.

“Hi, Alexis.” David unpacked several boxes of food. “Claire told me Chinese food was your favorite.”

Alexis closed her textbook, placing it and her notebook into her backpack. Standing, she strode across the kitchen, joining them. Peering over the food, Alexis said, “As long as you have orange chicken and chow mein, then I’ll be fine.”

David grabbed two cartons marked as orange chicken and chow mein respectively. “Here, these are just for you.” He held them out to her.

Taking the cartons from him, Alexis smiled warmly. “Thanks, can I keep the leftovers for tomorrow?”

“Of course,” replied David.

“Great,” Alexis nudged Claire with her shoulder. “You should see the stuff Claire tries to feed me.”

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.” Claire sighed. “You’re lucky I don’t let you starve. I’ve never claimed to be a good cook.”

With food in hand, Alexis slumped into her chair at the table, placing the food in front of herself. Blankly, Alexis stared at the boxes of food. “No…” She sighed, making her shoulders noticeably droop. Her eyes became misty, and she swiped the moisture away with her index finger. “Mom was the cook.”

Claire gripped the end of the counter with her hands as the room spiraled around her. Lungs burning, she gasped for air. Grief was tricky. One moment you were fine, then the next you couldn’t breathe. Blinking rapidly, Claire fought hard against the floodgate starting to break. Someday, she hoped it wasn’t this difficult, wished she could remember Mom without overwhelming, debilitating sadness.

Forcing herself to find her equilibrium, Claire finally said, “Mom was the best cook.” Her voice cracked as a few tears ran down her cheeks.

Glancing out the kitchen window, Claire remembered Mom cooking in this very kitchen too many times to count. Some meals were made on a shoestring budget, other times Mom managed to find nice cuts of meat at discount prices at the supermarket, and her concoctions were closer to what a gourmet chef served in the very finest restaurants. Mom spent hours cooking for her and Alexis, a labor of love, Claire didn’t fully appreciate the act until this moment.

David’s voice broke the stillness. “What’s your favorite dish that your mom made?” He leaned against the counter, folding his arms, and crossing his ankles.

Claire shifted toward David, locking eyes with him. Gratitude seeped into her entire being. How did he manage to pivot everything back to positivity? It was a quality Claire loved in him.

Thank you, Claire mouthed to David. Then Claire glanced at Alexis, wondering if Alexis wanted to share first.

A smile spread across Alexis’s face. “I loved her chicken enchiladas.” Alexis swiped at her eyes with the back of her palm. “Or her garlic pesto chicken.”

“You had me at enchiladas,” replied David. Grabbing the rest of the bags of food, he walked them to the table and sat in the seat across from Alexis. Opening a carton of fried rice, David continued, “Did she ever teach you how to make her enchiladas?”

Following suit, Claire grabbed some forks and plates before joining Alexis and David at the table. Alexis opened her orange chicken, filling the room with its tantalizing aroma. Claire’s stomach rumbled as Alexis spooned the food onto her plate.

“You know Mom and I made them once together,” remarked Alexis. Spearing a piece of her orange chicken, Alexis continued, “but I wouldn’t remember how to make them now.”

Claire opened a carton of broccoli beef, putting some onto her plate before handing the carton to David. David handed her the spicy shrimp in return.

“I’m pretty decent at reading a recipe.” David speared a piece of beef and took a bite. After swallowing, he said, “I’d love to learn how to make enchiladas. Maybe we could do it together, Alexis?”

Shifting in her seat, Alexis’s gaze darted quickly between Claire and David. “Wouldn’t you want to do that with Claire?”

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