I spent the past four days away from home, so this morning I happily resumed my regular routine of breakfast preparation. I had just switched on the mixer when Nathaniel wandered into the kitchen. I had been looking forward to visiting with him and hearing all about his week. We exchanged hugs, and he then peered contemplatively into the mixing bowl as the dates, apples, and walnuts rode the muffin-batter whirlpool.
Satisfied, he turned, looked at me, and drawled, "Emma made some good food in a pan."
My brain shifted into high gear, desperately searching for pictures in those bland words. My brows lifted with the effort.
Nathaniel read my face. Hurriedly he interjected, "With chicken and peppers!"
"Ah," I thought. "Now I know everything."