Noodles swirled and squelched as the yellow powder dissolved into something resembling cheese. Nathan stirred, barely paying attention to the task as he stared into that mac and cheese abyss.

His sister was asleep on the basement couch after another messy breakup. She had arrived late last night, full of rage and tears and tequila, and had shattered on their kitchen floor. Once again it was his job to clean up the mess. But every time the pieces got smaller.

Meanwhile, his hangry kids were screaming upstairs, the audit at work was starting Monday, his car was making a weird noise, and then there was the state of the entire world . . . On top of all that, even cooking up some macaroni felt daunting.

He just wanted his sister to know he loved her.

He just wanted his sister to love herself.

How long had he been stirring?

“Is that blue box?” a raw voice croaked.

Nathan didn’t see the red eyes, the unkempt hair, not even the scars, both old and new. He saw the smile, struggling to break free at the corner of his sister’s mouth. “I know it’s your favorite,” he said, “so I made a double batch.”

* * *

Story by Gregory M. Fox

Photo credit: freefoodphotos.com