Writing Prompt Fun #3

I’ve been dealing with a lot of feelings today. I need something good to think about and hopefully this helps a little bit.

Today’s Prompt: “I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen.”

Dillon is rummaging through my pantry, looking for who knows what. This is actually stressing me out. “Dillon,” my voice comes out like a mother coxing her child to gently put down something very expensive, “I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen.”

“Come on Kenna, I’ve made this recipe before, I just can’t find the last ingredient I need. I guess if you are worried, you can help me, but really I got this. I used to make this recipe all the time back home. I started making it all on my own at fifteen. I you want I can call my mom and have her tell you that I’m not going to burn your apartment down.”

Ugh, my head is pounding. No use fighting with him, Dillon is too stubborn for his own good sometimes. “No no, that’s okay. I guess I can trust you this time.” He immediately perks up.

“Great! I just have to run to the grocery store real quick. You go watch a movie in your room and I will come back and cook dinner. Okay?,” he declares. He is just trying to help, and besides laying in bed is really the only thing I feel up to.

“Okay. I guess I’ll text you if I remember anything I need while you are there,” I mumble as I turn and head back to the comfort of my bed. I hear him leave and try to find something to watch.


Okay, so I need pasta. I still can’t believe Kenna had no pasta in her apartment. We used to live off ramen in the dorms.

Grab reusable bag from the trunk.

Pasta. Pasta. Pasta.

Kenna actually didn’t have much food in her apartment. I should probably grab some other stuff for her while I’m here. Let’s see, what does Kenna normally have? I mean I eat her food all the time.

Milk, eggs, a loaf of bread, some fruit, some veggies to replace what I’m using tonight. Yeah, that seems like a good start. Oh, I’ll grab some extra bread in case she wants bread with dinner.

I got this. Now to get back and make Kenna something good.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

I go to check on Kenna when I get back and she is sound asleep with her laptop open next to her. Looks like she fell asleep trying to pick a movie. It’s okay. She really needs to rest. 

I go to the kitchen and start prepping all the veggies that I am going to use for dinner. Onion, carrot, celery, green beans. Okay, now to saute everything for a bit before I add the stock, crushed tomatoes, and pasta. This recipe is so simple, yet so yummy. I hope Kenna enjoys it. 

After everything has been added, I go to check on Kenna again. She is still sound asleep. I better go make sure not to overcook the pasta. That happened the first time I made this. I mean, it was still good, but not the same.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Dinner is done. I feel bad about it, but I have to wake Kenna up. She really needs to eat to feel better.

I walk toward her room with a bowl and several slices of bread on a tray. I place it on the nightstand and put her laptop away. “Kenna.” Nothing. “Kenna, dinner is ready.”

“Hmm?,” she mumbles.

“Dinner. You should probably sit up.” She wakes up and looks around for a minute before sitting up. She sees the clock, it says 6:03.

“How long have I been asleep? Didn’t you leave at like 4:30?,” she drawls in her half asleep state.

“Yeah, I left right around then and you were already asleep when I got back at 4:57. So you slept for at least an hour. You need it, trust me,” I tell her. She mumbles something I can’t quite make out. “Do you want your dinner?”

“Yes, please,” she whispers, ” It smells really good Dillon.” I bring her the tray and place it on her lap. “Minestrone. It makes me think of my grandpa, he used to love minestrone and would make me some whenever I got sick.” She smiles a little. “Are you going to have some? You made it after all.”

“Yes, I just couldn’t fit both bowls on the tray.” I go to retrieve my bowl and sit next to her on her bed. We eat in silence, except for the sound of spoons hitting bowls.

“Dillon, thanks. That was really good and I should have trusted you to make something delicious,” she says. All traces of sleepiness have left her voice.

“There is also plenty of soup leftover for tomorrow and I grabbed some basic groceries for you to hold you over until you feel better. I just wanted to help. Especially because you always take care of me when I get sick, and I think this is the first time you have ever gotten sick.”


I can’t help but smile when Dillon says this because he went above and beyond when it came to taking care of me today. Then again, I guess that is why he is my best friend, he always goes above and beyond what is expected of people. Whether I am physically sick or mentally sick, he is always there for me and does everything he can to help me feel better.

“You do realize that I probably got sick because I took care of you when you were sick last week, right?,” I inquire. He looks shocked. I would get in so much trouble if my brain was always this foggy and I just said everything I thought. Now I have to fix this. “But it’s okay. I took care of you knowing that I would risk getting sick.”

“Wait, you knew you might get sick but you still took care of me? Why would you do something like that?,” he says, the shock in his voice matching the shock on his face.

“Because,” I pause looking for the right words, “because you are my best friend and I knew that if I ever got sick, you would take care of me. And I was right, you proved that to me today and you did more than I normally do for you. I mean, you made me soup from scratch and made sure I had enough groceries to last until I get better. Thank you Dillon, for everything.”

“You’re welcome Kenna.”

And we watched movies the rest of the night.


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