Strawberry Alarm Clock

It wasn’t too early as the sun had already made its way a decent amount above the horizon, but still just early enough that Gale knew her parents wouldn’t be up quite yet. Her father Dale’s way of sleeping in on the weekend had rubbed off on his wife just enough that Gadget no longer felt the need to be up at the crack of dawn for whatever the day’s task might involve.

Gale brushed her bangs out of her eyes as she bit her lip concentrating hard on getting the exact right measurement for the baking soda. Everything had to be just so. She didn’t want her first time baking all this on her own to be anything short of a smashing success. She also was sure both her parents would be quite thankful that she didn’t inherit her father’s ‘close enough’ ideas on cooking a thought she chuckled at. Sure, he could be good at cooking when the mood suited him, but baking was an especially interesting journey for him, as he didn’t take nearly the same scientific approach to the activity that was required. From time to time he ended up with cakes that rose out of their pans, making a mess of the oven, or cookies that baked into one conglomerate of brown, sugary goodness. It wasn’t that it didn’t taste good, but it certainly didn’t look the part.

With all the dry ingredients assembled, Gale went back to the recipe to check what moistening agents she still needed. Milk, shortening, and a dash of vanilla, of course, that last ingredient was her little addition. She loved the spike of flavor it had, so put it in virtually anything she made. She remembered when she was younger, her family and the rest of the Rangers would make milkshakes in the hot New York summers. She was famous for her vanilla milk shakes that looked more like they had root beer in them; browned from all the extract. She giggled to herself how Monty had asked if she would be riding her tricycle home as he didn’t think 5 year olds should be drinking and driving.

That was only seven years ago, but seemed like yesterday. As with anything to do with her uncles, who were more like second and third fathers than anything, each moment seemed ingrained in her mind. No matter what was going on with her parents work, no matter what was going on in her school, the Rangers always brightened every day. Both Gadget and Dale could get stressed out from the current case load, or the events they were trying to figure out, but even when her parents didn’t have the time, the Rangers did. School wasn’t the easiest with a brain as sharp as Gale’s and a tongue even sharper. But even the times she’d found her way to the principal’s office for demonstrating a teacher had used the wrong equation, or showing that the teacher’s assertion that no triangle could have more than 180 degrees in it was false when you used spherical geometry, if Dale or Gadget couldn’t make it there to bail her out, Monty Chip or Zipper were always there to get her off the hook. Always making time for her, always there with a loving hug and a reassuring pat on the head, or in Zipper’s case a tussle of her hair, they were always right there for her.

But today wasn’t about them. Today was all about her mom. She had crept so quietly out of bed and down to the kitchen to make sure she would not disturb her parents, not even making a peep. They were detectives after all and, although Dale was a deep sleeper, they both were better at being able to hear anything that went on around them than Gale would have liked. Living with detectives definitely had its draw backs in terms of trying to get away with anything; or perhaps it just helped make her craftier, she chuckled to herself.

She found herself faced with a dollop of shortening stuck to her spoon. It needed to be in the bowl if it was to be of any use. Knowing that banging the spoon against the bowl would surely wake them, she placed a rag between the spoon and the bowl while she banged it against its rim trying to dislodge the last of the shortening. She then quietly whisked it all together, just fast enough to mix it, but slow enough to be almost silent.

She’d already preheated the oven, and after scrapping all the batter into a shallow cake pan, she placed it in the oven and set the timer. Twenty minutes, she mused to herself, should be enough to cut the strawberries.

Smiling at how sneaky she could be when she wanted to, she started cutting the strawberries that she’d hidden away in a cool dark place in the tree, but one that she knew her mom wouldn’t find. They were Gadget’s favorite, and Gale was convinced it would ruin the surprise if she’d known an entire flat of them was around. It was odd how much her mom enjoyed the fruit. Sure, Gale liked them too, but it wasn’t the same. Gale thought they were good and could eat her share, but for her mother it was more of an experience than just gathering sustenance. She seemed to reminisce as she ate the sweet red fruits. She never casually ate a strawberry. It was always a bigger deal than that, like her mind had used it as a portal to somewhere else.

Like her father, Gale lost herself in comic book stories, and like her mother she could lose herself in the work of making some machine or invention work just a bit better, but food had never held the same power over her. In fact she’d never seen anyone who it held that power over than her mother, and no other food; just strawberries. Gale knew there had to be more to the story but she also knew there were some places that, out of love for her mom, she didn’t ask about. She’d asked her father a few times, and beyond saying they were something special, he only said that that was Gadget’s story to tell and not his.

Before she knew it, the shortcake was out and ready for its topping of berries. Gale arranged them lovingly across the top in a heart for good measure. She smiled, proud of her creation, and couldn’t wait to show her parents. Being a 12 year old and being desperate to show her parents, she knew there was only one thing to do.

“MOM DAD! WAKE UP!!!!!” Gale yelled, bounding into their bedroom and on top of the two still-sleeping animals.

“Whats the big idea?” Dale slurred in a haze .

“HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!” Gale trumpeted.

“Thanks hun,” Gadget yawned back.

“Yeah, happy mom’s day!” Dale quickly blurted.

“Thanks loves,” Gadget smiled hugging her two most special people in her life tightly.

“Did you do something for mom, dad?” Gale queried, always relishing when she could get Dale in trouble.

“Of course I did,” he replied. “Just didn’t feel like handling it at the break of dawn.”

“It’s ten, dad.”

“It’s the break of dawn somewhere.”

“Come on mom, I made you something.”

“I can smell it,” Gadget mused as her daughter dragged her out of bed. She could definitely smell something cooking, but couldn’t quite place what it was. They weren’t waffles, or any of Monty’s creations. No, the scent was too subtle to be those . It was familiar though, a biscuit, cake like, smell that Gadget knew from Mother’s days with her own mom she realized.

“Surprise!” Gale said, waving her hands around the elegant looking shortcake, heart of berries and all.

“Golly,” Gadget squeaked out. “Golly.” She found herself at a loss for words and couldn’t do anything else but hug her daughter tight against her chest.

“Mom you okay?” Gale ventured as she saw her dad walk in and smile at the adorable scene of his two favorite girls.

Gadget could only nod her head, although her tears betrayed her assertion she was okay. She held her daughter as close and as tightly as she could, never wanting her out of her grasp. Gadget’s mind reminded her of how much she would give for just one more hug from her mother, how much she wanted just one more mother’s day to celebrate with her.

“Thank you so much Gale, for the best mother’s day present I could have ever received,” she finally said loosening the hug a tad to enable her daughter to reply.

“Your welcome, but it’s just a cake ,” she responded a bit confused.

“It’s not just a cake when it’s what you used to make for your mother every year for mother’s day, ” Gadget said tears pouring out again. “I love you Gale.”

“Love you too mom.”

Gale still didn’t quite know what the strawberries meant , but she squeezed her mother as tight as she could in another hug, knowing that it wasn’t her that needed the hug but her mother.