French Toast

Caroline stands in the kitchen staring into the fridge, rattling in her head, all the ingredients she needs to pull out. She just rolled out of bed, her hair is in an auburn messy bun and her pajamas are loose on her body. No one else was awake in the house, allowing her a small amount of freedom to roam the kitchen without a bra, for a little while longer, at least.

Reaching towards the cool breeze of the fridge, Caroline grabs the eggs, milk and butter out, shoves the butter under her arm to carry it over to the counter and places all of it down next to the stove. She continues to collect bread slices, sugar, salt and cinnamon from her freshly painted white cabinets. Just then, her coffee is brewed and ready for milk and sugar, and ready to enjoy while she makes herself french toast.

In a shallow bowl, Caroline cracks two eggs open, plopping them into the bowl. Then, she adds in a little bit of milk and mixes it until it all blends together. Next, she sprinkles in sugar, cinnamon and a dash of salt. She mixes everything together creating a yellow mixture with brown and white swirls. The pan on the stove is hot with butter, so she places a piece of bread into the wet mixture and soaks it on both sides then places it on the hot butter. Sizzle. She remembers when her mom made this same recipe for her as a child, her mom would add vanilla. Now, as an adult, Caroline doesn’t add vanilla, like her mom does. She prefers them without. “Unpopular opinion”, she thinks and smiles to herself.

Standing in the kitchen barefoot and bra less, sipping coffee and feeling the AC cool her neck, Caroline finally hears the click of the bathroom door. Someone is awake. Her time alone is over. While her french toast is cooking slowly, she rushes to her bedroom and throws on a bra. She always stays put-together for her step kids, especially now that they’re getting older. She never realized how much a seventeen year old can judge you with a single glare. Caroline used to use that glare, but she gave it to her mom. Thinking back on the time she used to be a teenager only makes Caroline sad and regretful wishing she could go back and somehow change her relationship with her mom. Help more, talk more, spend more time with her mom.

When she came back to the kitchen, bra in check, her french toast was ready to flip to the other side. She could smell the aromas of cinnamon and butter filling the air. Caroline quickly doubles her batter and pulls out more bread slices, hoping someone would come and enjoy her mother’s french toast recipe, just as much as she does.

The toilet flushing fills up the quiet house with rushing water, but then, a bedroom door closes back behind whoever it was.

By the time Caroline was done cooking, there were eight pieces of french toast sitting on a plate on top of the stove. She grabbed two pieces and poured syrup all over them, then sat at the dining room table in silence eating the delicious soft, egg soaked bread. This recipe has been her favorite since she was little when her mom made it for her on the weekends. Caroline thinks back to her favorite memory, eating her mom’s french toast while they were at her family lake house.

In 1996, Caroline was seven years old and every summer, she and her family would spend every weekend at the lake house sun bathing, boating, fishing, laughing with each other and neighbors around. The mornings were sunny and bright; if you wanted to sleep in, it was difficult because the cottage heated up quickly with the sunrise, giving off its musty, old, tinted smell, telling everyone it was time to be up and to go enjoy the day. Caroline remembers waking up in the morning with her mom and relaxing, watching the water as smooth as glass. Her mom knew when it was the perfect time to start breakfast, and everyone in the house would request what they wanted. For Caroline, it was always french toast.

Caroline finishes her french toast and walks her dirty dish to the sink, starting the water and scrubbing it clean with a sponge. She looks over on the counter and feels saddened again seeing her uneaten french toast pieces getting cold.

Something is missing in this house and Caroline's finding the strength to fix it. She grabs another cup of coffee and gets busy on her computer, searching up lake houses with a beach. ‘VRBO’ shows her places that are too small, too big, and says there’s a beach, but then there isn’t one.

Caroline searches for a little while longer when finally a cute beach cottage appears on her screen. The dates are good, the size is perfect and the beach is sandy. She clicks, pays and voila! She has just planned a beach vacation for her family before ten a.m.

She grabs her phone, not wanting to disturb the peace, and texts her house in a group chat. "Beach vacation 2026!" Is what she sent to them with a picture of the cottage she chose and the dates they’re leaving. Caroline couldn’t help but feel excited and ready to start packing, since it’s this weekend. Her husband, who was at work, was the first one to respond.

“Wow! What a surprise, can’t wait!”

The kids, however, took an hour to respond and all she got was a thumbs up and an “ok!” So underwhelming, she wants to be annoyed but she doesn’t get there. She is too excited about the sun and the sand, and maybe some time for french toast with the sunrise.

Caroline spent the entire rest of the week planning and packing, cleaning out the car and running back over the list, over and over again.

“Are you excited to go, Cass?” She asks her step-daughter, the seventeen year old.

Caroline stops Cassidy dead in her tracks. Cassidy stops and turns towards Caroline, as though she wasn’t going to stop to talk, but she responds with a smile, “I really am! I’m all packed already.”

“I am too. It’s going to be fun to get away and enjoy some time together.”

“I think so, too.” Caroline heard sincerity in her voice.

Cassidy, although kept to herself for the most part, is very sweet and a hard working student. Next school year, she is going to be class president and Caroline can’t be more proud of her. She just wishes Cassidy would talk to her more.

This trip is going to be a great stepping stone for them, she is hopeful.

Before Caroline could say anything else Cassidy asks, “Is it ok if I go over to my friend’s house to swim?”

“Yeah.” And that was it for their interaction today, besides when Cassidy actually leaves the house and yells out, “Bye, love you!”

“Love you, have fun!” Caroline yells back. The door smacks the doorframe as she walks out to her friend’s car. Off she goes and the house feels the same as when she was here, quiet.

Caroline and her family arrive at the lake house on Friday afternoon on a hot July day. The house reminds her slightly of her childhood lake house, but it has its own charms to it. The deck is large and leads right up to the lake.

They first unpacked and stretched their legs after the long car ride and explored the cottage which had games to play and books to read. The T.V. was small, but they could still connect to the WiFi.

Eventually, Caroline’s husband and her two twin step-son’s get the grill fired up for dinner and they enjoy steaks by the water and start to fish.

The night is all Caroline could dream of, it truly is perfect to have her family sit around her for dinner.

Nowadays, that is hard to come by. They were either running off to sports, hiding in bedrooms, or hanging out with friends.

The rest of the vacation became Caroline’s favorite memories.

One night, they caught so many perch that they kept them and had a fish fry the next night.

Caroline’s husband went off on his own one morning and came back on a pontoon boat and a box of donuts.

He shouted, “Get your lazy butts out of bed and come get your breakfast.”

Caroline couldn’t help but to fall more in love with the man she promised her life to. The reason why her relationship with his kids is so important to her. The reason why she’ll continue to bring them to this little old cottage she found, year after year. To create more memories, for the rest of her life.

On the last morning of vacation, Cassidy wakes up at the same time as Caroline. She walks out to the front porch that looks out towards the lake and sits next to Caroline on the couch. The water looks like pure glass as the reflection of the sunrise is smooth and bright. “Good morning” they both say to each other with sleepy smiles. And after a while, Caroline gets up and asks Cassidy, “Are you hungry?”

“Sure.” Cassidy says, smiling still and bobbing her head up and down. Her messy hair falling off her shoulder.

“Ok. I can make you whatever we have left in the fridge. Eggs, pancakes, french toast. Or cereal.”

“French toast sounds good.” So off to the kitchen Caroline goes, almost floating with joy, painless and happy. Cracking the eggs, whisking her ingredients together, dashing with salt, buttering the pan, flipping at the right moment and delivering it with syrup on the side.

In Caroline’s opinion, you should be the only one to syrup your breakfast.

Cassidy loved them so much that she bragged about them when everyone else woke up, only fifteen minutes later. Caroline was back in the kitchen busy using the rest of the eggs and milk for french toast and cleaning house to get ready for packing back up to head home.

Caroline will never forget the first summer at the lake house in 2026.

Many years later, Caroline and the family is yet again, heading to the lake house on a sunny Friday afternoon in July. These days, she and her husband drive up on their own, meeting everyone there. One step-son is single, but brings his dog. The other son is newly married with a baby on the way and Cassidy is married with her second baby on the way. Nova is three years old and calls Caroline “Grammy” and she brings so much love to Caroline’s heart, it could burst.

The first morning they wake up, tiny Nova feet come running in to give Grammy a big hug on the couch. She looks out the window, “Rain? Is raining?” jumping up and down on the couch.

Caroline wraps her arms around Nova and tickles her down off the couch.

“Yes, a little bit of rain, it will clear up.” Nova went running towards her mom who then picks her up and places her on her shoulder.

“You know what Grammy always used to say on rainy mornings?”

“What?” Nova says waiting eagerly to hear.

“French toast tastes best on mornings like these.”

“Oh, yes they are!” Caroline says, with a smile and gets up and gets cooking.