the cabinet revealed flour and sugar. After digging through the pantry, she found a partially used bag of self-rising flour, a can of vegetable shortening and a small bottle of sorghum molasses. She was in business.
She turned on the oven to preheat, laid her cell phone on the counter out of the way, then dug through the cabinets and drawers until she found the rest of what she needed. It wasn’t long until the smell of baking bread was added to the aromas drifting through the house.
Sonora was frying bacon when she sensed she was no longer alone. She looked up. Franklin was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She smiled.
“Good morning. How did you sleep?” she asked as he moved toward her.
Franklin touched her shoulder in a gentle, hesitant manner, then kissed the side of her cheek.
Sonora leaned against him for a fraction of a second, then made herself smile when all she wanted to do was cry. This family stuff was harder than she would have thought.
“I slept well,” Franklin said. “And you?”
“Like a baby,” Sonora said. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugged. “Some mornings are better than others.”
She eyed the food she was making. “Does this bother you… I mean, the smells of food cooking? I didn’t think that you might not be—”
Franklin held up a hand to silence her. “It smells wonderful. I will drink some coffee and take my meds and maybe steal a piece of that bacon when it’s done before Adam comes and eats all my food.”
Sonora nodded and made herself smile, but she could tell he wasn’t right. Either he was weak, or in pain, or possibly both. It broke her heart to think that she had just met this wonderful man and might lose him before they got to know each other the way father and daughter should.
She pretended not to notice his hand shaking as he poured coffee into a cup, and she busied herself making gravy when he counted out more than a dozen pills and swallowed them one by one.
Biscuits had just come out of the oven when someone knocked on the front door.
Franklin looked up at the clock and grinned.
“Adam already? It’s barely eight-thirty. I’m thinking he must really be hungry…or something.”
Sonora heard the sarcasm in his voice and laughed in spite of herself. Franklin was obviously a big tease and she may as well face the fact that he wasn’t going to give up alluding to Adam’s interest in her.
“Probably smelled the biscuits,” she said. “Want me to let him in?”
Franklin’s smile widened. “Someone has to. Might as well be you.”
She threw a pot holder at him.
Surprise lit his face as he caught it. This daughter of his had fire in her soul. But he should have known that. No one did what she did for a living without having a large amount of faith in herself. It made him sick at heart to think of her growing up so alone. It was a good thing that she’d had a strong belief in herself, because there had been no one else to do it for her.
He heard Adam’s deep voice, then the sound of Sonora laughing. He smiled. It had been years since such joy had filled this house. His blessing was that he’d lived long enough to hear it.
“Good morning, Franklin,” Adam said as he followed Sonora into the kitchen. Then he eyed the stove and the pan of biscuits. “You outdid yourself this morning, didn’t you?”
Franklin beamed. “I did nothing but oversleep. My daughter has cooked our food this morning.”
Sonora bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she cracked eggs into the hot skillet. This was nothing short of a miracle, and she was frying eggs in this kitchen as if it was no big deal.
“I like mine over easy,” Adam said.
Sonora jumped. She hadn’t known he’d come up behind her.
“How many?” she asked.
“Two, please.”
She grabbed another egg and broke it into the skillet beside the three that were already beginning to cook.
“What about you, Dad? How many eggs for you?”
“Oh…maybe one. My appetite isn’t what it used to be.”
Sonora turned around and frowned at Franklin. His color was ashen, and there was a bead of sweat on his upper lip. She took a piece of bacon from the platter, handed it to him and pointed toward the table.
“Sit.”
Franklin took the bacon and sat without argument. Adam looked startled by Sonora’s perception, and without comment, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down by Franklin.
Sonora noticed the way Adam cared for Franklin, subtly checking the older man’s pulse, then shaking out two painkillers for him from a bottle in the cabinet. By the time the eggs were done, Franklin appeared to be feeling better.
Sonora carried the plates to the table, then added the biscuits, bacon and jelly. She poured the gravy and refilled the coffee cups, then finally sat down.
Franklin eyed the table, then Adam, then Sonora.
“Today, I am truly blessed,” he said softly. “And so I ask blessings for the food we are about to eat, and for the company of my daughter and my best friend.”
“I am the one who’s honored. Are those biscuits homemade?”
Sonora eyed Franklin, who appeared ready to offer another comment regarding her expertise in a kitchen, and headed him off.
“Yes, and before we get all carried away with praise for the cook, you should know that the eggs are getting cold,” she said.
With that, she passed the biscuits down the table, trying not to appear too pleased when both men took two apiece to start with.
For a few minutes, little was said other than a request for something to be passed. It wasn’t until Franklin was finishing his second biscuit that it occurred to him the food tasted good.
“Sonora, this food is very good,” Franklin said. “Who taught you to cook like this?”
“Betty Crocker.”
Adam grinned.
Franklin’s eyebrow arched.
“The Betty Crocker?”
“The one and only,” Sonora added.
Adam snagged another biscuit, slathered it with butter and jelly, then toasted Sonora with it.
“Then…my compliments to the cook,” he said.
But Franklin wasn’t satisfied.
“You learned to cook like this from
