I tried to go back to sleep but failed to. After giving up on sleeping in, I got up and went to the bathroom. I changed into a pair of sweats and a loose-fitting shirt and went to start breakfast.
My grandmother woke up about an half hour later. When she finally came into the kitchen, she greeted me as usual and peeked at the stove.
"Is that gravy?" she asked me, looking at the pot.
"Um hm." I said. "I'm making biscuits and gravy. Just how you taught me."
My grandmother looked at the pot again then back at me.
She nodded and walked to the table.
I watched her with a furrowed brow. Glancing at the pot, I looked down at the creamy substance that was a low simmer.
Was I doing it wrong?
I huffed in annoyance as I hand-washed the few dishes I dirtied.
She could at least point me in the right direction.
"Any plans for the day?" my grandmother inquired, picking up the newspaper.
"I'm supposed to be meeting my friends at the airport later." I replied. "Spencer is leaving today."
"Ahh, that is right." she sighed. "You told me that a few days ago."
"How about you?" I asked.
"I'll probably do some puzzles and garden a little." she replied.
I nodded and wiped dry my hands with a towel.
I made a mental note to go to the laundry mat tomorrow. It was about that time again.
"Can we knit while I wait?" I ask her as I take the biscuits out of the oven.
"That's fine, sweetheart." she answered.
I allowed the biscuits to cool off before I prepared two plates for us. When I was done plating, I looked at my work with satisfaction.
It smelled and looked great. Hopefully, it will taste as good as it looks.
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"Bon appétite." I said, placing our plates on the table.
My grandmother refolded the newspaper and set it aside.
I went to grab some fresh squeezed orange juice from the refrigerator along with two glasses. After filling our cups halfway, my grandmother said grace before we dug in. I watched her take the first bite of gravy covered biscuit with anticipation. I was dying to know how I did.
When she hummed in satisfaction and took a bite, I relaxed.
As long as it was edible.
"You did a good job, Iris." my grandmother said with a smile.
