Chapter Twelve: Paris:

Now we go from London to Paris. Amber made it home safely. Right now, she’s making lunch with her mother in the kitchen.

“Do we have any cinnamon?” her mother asked.

“Hang on,” Amber said. She walked over to the cabinet over the stove. The girl opened it up and looked inside.

“Ah! Here it is,” Amber said. She pulled out the small jar of cinnamon.

“Thank you,” her mother said. She unscrewed the cap. Amber looked over her shoulder.

“What are we making again?” she asked. Her mother smiled.

“Stew,” she said. Amber’s eyes lit up.

“Is it your special Christmas stew?” she asked.

“Why yes,” her mother said. Her daughter looked like she was ready to fly away in happiness.

“Yay!” she said. She wildly hugged her mother.

“I love you so much!” the girl said. Her mother gently pushed her off.

“There, there, girl,” she said. “Just get me the garlic.”

“Right,” Amber said. She moved around in the kitchen again. It was funny, really. She only did the cooking at home. It was convenient store meals and fast food in Japan. Though Amber didn’t really put on weight, her mother still didn’t approve of her eating choices.

“Ramen and store-bought sushi aren’t good for you,” she said. “You need real food.” Amber couldn’t convince her that she was eating fine.

“It’s no good,” her mother said. “Come! I will make you something to eat.” Amber just gave up at this point. This was her mother after all. She just wanted what was best for her daughter.

Amber came back with the garlic.

“Thank you,” her mother said. To be honest, Amber did miss her mother’s cooking. It wouldn’t do any good to have it mailed from France to Japan. She was just going to have to enjoy it when she came home.

“Why don’t you learn to cook all of the stuff I make?” her mother asked when they were driving from the airport.

“I don’t know,” Amber admitted. She shrugged and looked out the window. Paris was supposed to snow later this week.

Amber finished chopping up the scallions. The oven’s timer beeped behind her.

“I’ve got it,” she said. She put on the oven mitts and took the duck out of the oven. The smell alone made her mouth water. Her mother turned as Amber set the dish on the counter.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. The girl had to swallow back her drool. Her mother chuckled.

“There’s going to be more where that came from,” she said. The woman turned back to her stew and picked up the ladle.

“Come and taste this,” she said. Amber walked over like a happy little puppy. She took a taste from the wooden spoon. The flavor exploded on her tongue. Her mother watched her closely.

“Well?” she asked. Amber felt like she was going to fly away.

“I love it!” she said. “Can I have more?” Her mother laughed as she put up her other hand.

“Easy there,” she said. “I’m not done with it yet.” The glow died in Amber’s eyes.

“Oh,” she said. Her mother smiled as she patted her on the shoulder.

“I might get done faster if you help me,” she said. Her daughter perked up.

“Okay!” she said. Amber walked back to the cutting board and got back to work. Her mother smiled to herself.

“Gets her every time,” she said to herself. The woman took a taste before stirring the stew.