“Um, I typically have eggs or oatmeal, like this morning. What do you like?” I followed her into the kitchen, which was immaculate.
“Gabby usually makes me an omelet,” she said it with little to no enthusiasm.
“Do you want an omelet?”
She bit her lip, and in that moment, she looked so like Alexis.
“Well, then, what would you like? I am at your service, princess.” I bowed low, and she giggled.
She glanced toward the backyard where Alexis was still showing off just how pliable her body was before turning back to me. “Could we…” She hesitated, and when she spoke again, it was with more confidence. “I’d really love some pancakes. Please,” she added.
“Then pancakes you shall have.” I glanced around the kitchen for supplies, relieved she hadn’t requested an ice cream sundae or something I knew would absolutely not fly.
“Really?” she squealed.
Her reaction only confirmed my theory that pancakes weren’t something she was typically permitted. I wondered if it was because of her food allergies—gluten, wheat, and oats. Or if it was something else, perhaps a ban on carbs? In California, you never knew what crazy diet people would come up with next.
“You want to help?” I asked.
She lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Of course. Everything tastes better when you make it yourself.” I pulled the eggs from the fridge. “Can you grab us two bananas?”
“Bananas.” She ran over to the counter and grabbed two. “Check.”
“Great. We’ll also need some cinnamon, salt, and olive oil.”
She directed me to the pantry, which was both well stocked and incredibly well organized. Like the rest of the house, it looked like something straight out of a magazine. I grabbed the remaining ingredients, including the rice flour.
“Okay,” I said, placing everything on the counter. “Two bowls. Two forks.”
She grabbed them, and then, standing side by side at the counter, I showed her how to make pancakes. The last one was coming off the pan when Alexis strode through the door. Her cheeks were flushed, and her skin glistened. Her hair was in a high ponytail that bared her shoulders to me. And she looked good—good enough to eat.
“Mommy, Mommy,” Sophia said. “Look! We made pancakes!”
I smiled, happy to see her pride and excitement over making breakfast. I turned off the gas range and added the last one to the stack.
“You did?” Alexis asked, and I could tell from her tone she wasn’t entirely thrilled by the idea.
Meanwhile, she was pulling the most random stuff out of the fridge—spinach, grapes, some juice. It looked healthy, but also, disgusting.
“And they don’t have wheat, gluten, or oats?” Alexis glanced to me for confirmation.
“Nope.” I grinned. “None of the above.”
“We made some for you too.” Sophia slid a plate across the counter.
Alexis looked down at the stack of pancakes, eyeing them hungrily. “Thank you, baby. But you know I have a protein shake for breakfast.”
She pushed the plate away, and I watched as Sophia disappeared into herself. Her shoulders slumped, her head down.
“These are actually very healthy pancakes,” I said. “They have just a few ingredients: banana, egg, rice flour, and some seasonings.”
“That’s it?” Alexis’s expression showed surprise.
I understood. When I’d first seen the recipe, I’d been skeptical too. A pancake with no butter or milk? And you could use alternative flours, but you didn’t even have to add those.
“Sophia did such an amazing job making them.” I gave Alexis an encouraging smile and inclined my head toward the pancakes. “Maybe you could just try a bite.”
