September 1982
Northern California

A grueling four weeks of hell had passed for little Troy. Vance had gotten worse, picking on his brother every chance he got, and as always, Troy's dad just ignored it. But Troy had that beacon of hope. He just had to make it to the week end to be able to unwind at his Grandmothers place. And he had

To keep her own clothes in good shape, his mother had gone to the local store and picked up girls clothes, including panties and a bra for the boy, this way she could keep her own clothes in her closet. The clothes were then stashed inside one of the closets that his grandmother had in her room. He hadn't seen then yet, just a brief description from his mother.

To save time and questions from Vance, he spent Friday night at his grandmothers, using her guest bed. He was forced to wear his boy pajamas, mostly because his Grandfather hadn't left for his trip yet. But when he awoke on Saturday he found a nightgown laid out on the bed, with a note attached to it.

Sweetie,

If you want to lounge around the house today, wear this, if not there is a cute summer
dress hanging in the closet. Panties and a bra on the dresser you you. Let me know when
you're awake and I'll start breakfast.

Grandma Modine

He looked at the nightgown. It was a nice powder blue color, with a cartoon cat on the front. He saw the yellow summer dress hanging in the closet and he began to weigh his options. A quick glance to the clock showed that it was just a little past seven. A part of him had been bummed out that he couldn't wear the night gown the night before, so he decided to wear that then shower after breakfast and then put on the dress.

In a matter of minutes he had shed his pajamas and was still pulling the blue nightgown over the white panties as he came around the corner into the kitchen. He saw her at the table drinking a cup of coffee and attempting to finish the crossword puzzle. Troy waited for her to pull the pencil away from the paper before he walked over and hugged her. “Morning Grandma.”

“Hello Sweetie.” She said, putting her pencil down long enough to hug the young child and give him a kiss on the forehead. “I see you picked the nightgown.”

“Well I figured I could wear this, then after breakfast I could shower and wear the dress.” He replied.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Modine said with a nod. “You know, the first thing we should do is get you a name.” She pulled out a chair at the table and patted the seat.

He took the hint and sat down. “I got a name.” He replied.

“But Troy is a boy's name.” She replied. “We need a girls name for you.”

He sat there for a little while, thinking about all the girls he knew and all of their names, wondering which one he liked the best. After a few minutes he looked up and smiled. “What about Tracy?”

“I like that.” His grandmother said with a nod. She stood up and moved to the refrigerator. “Come on Tracy, let's make breakfast. You can help me.”

“Okay.” His smile brightened as he stood up, and his body language shifted slightly. His shoulders weren't slumped like his boy self had done. The smile was there after it had formed. And as his grandmother turned on the radio, he began to sway his hips to the music. Tracy was in the house.

The radio was set to an oldies channel, not that it mattered much. The main music the station played was only from thirty years earlier. She tired to hum along with some of the music as her grandmother did the singing. Neither Tracy, or Troy, had ever done any cooking, So Modine took the time to teach her grandchild the basics of making eggs and bacon.

It was an easy meal, but for her first time cooking, she didn't want to push it. So the two of them work at a pace that little Tracy could handle. At first the eggs were to be sunny side up, but a few mishaps turned them into scrambled. Through it all the little girl never lost her smile.

“Very good. I guess we should have started with scrambled anyway, then work up to the hard stuff.” Her Grandmother said. Tracy just nodded and poked at the eggs with the spatula again. “Yeah. I've wanted to learn how to cook, 'cause Mom is working all the time and then she get's home and has to make dinner, it's just so unfair to her.”

“Well tell you what. You can't just jump in the kitchen and think you know what to do. How about every weekend, plus Monday and Friday nights, you and I go over the basics of cooking and then in a month or two we can see if your mother will let you slowly take over, okay?” Her Grandmother asked.

“That sound good.” Tracy replied with a nod.

“Good. How about we invite your mother over for lunch? We can make something nice for her. Maybe a nice pasta salad?” Modine asked her granddaughter as she began to butter toast.

“Yeah.” Tracy nodded again, while lifting the pan off the stove and putting the eggs on two plate.

Modine put her knife down and grabbed the nearby phone and dialed. Tracy could hardly keep from dancing around as she put the plates on the table and set about pouring juice for them.

“Maggie? Yes, it's Modine.” Tracy didn't feel bad as she listening in. Normally she liked to leave the room when people were on the phone, but this time it was about her. “No, no she's been a totally angel today. Yes, She. Tracy? Your daughter?” Tracy's face lit up with another smile as she watched her grandmother for a moment, then she returned to putting the juice back in the fridge. “We were wondering if you would like to join us for a light lunch. Just the three of us, so you can meet Tracy properly.”

The little girl took her seat at the table and she waited for her Grandmother before she touched her plate. Modine kept nodding while she was on the phone. Yes, so Noon? Okay, we'll be ready for you.”

Her grandmother hung up the phone and she sat down next to Tracy. “Well young lady, let's see how your first attempt went.”

Tracy watched her grandmother as the older woman took a bite. “Not bad, take a bite.” Tracy took a bite and chewed it, then looked up as she saw her grandmother looking at her. “Well, what do you think?”

“It's okay. But it's....kind of blah.” Tracy said.

“What do you think is missing?” Modine asked.

“I don't know?” Tracy shrugged.

“Tell me, did you use any spices?”

Tracy slumped her shoulders and put her fork down. “No.” She grumbled. “I messed it up.”

“Hey.” Modine put a hand on her shoulder. “No one gets it right their first time. Each time you cook, you have that possibility of making mistakes. But that's how some of the better recipes come to be, all because of one little goof. You like my meatloaf, right?”

“Yeah.” Tracy nodded.

“I tried to prefect that for years, but one day I made a mistake and added a different spice. It used to be dry and nasty, but now, I don't worry about leftovers. All cooking is half experimentation.” Modine smiled. “You understand what I'm saying?”

“I think so.” Tracy replied.

“Let me put a different way.” Modine leaned back in the chair for a moment, then nodded to herself. “Do you remember the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?”

“Yes, I love that movie.” Tracy smiled.

“Remember the song with all the old people? Roses of success?” Modine asked.

“Yeah, the one where they try to build another car?”

“That's the one. The main point of that song is that in failure, you have success.” Modine replied, watching her grandchild’s face. “If you learn from your mistakes, you learn to correct them next time.” She let that sink in for a moment, then leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “So, what did we learn?”

“Ummmmm.” Tracy thought about it for a moment, then she pointed to the spice rack. “Use spices?”

“That is one lesson you could get today. Lesson two is that if you're in doubt on what you're cooking, ask someone.” Modine said. “See, eggs are easy. Just get up and get the salt and pepper shakers and we can add till were happy. But next time, you wont forget the spices.”

“Okay.” Tracy got up and grabbed the two thin shakers from the resting place on the stove. As she sat down, her grandmother gave her a hug. “What was that for?

“That was for proving you're willing to learn and not just get frustrated and walk away from something.” Modine waited as the little girl used the salt, then handed it to her. “It's easy to give up, but somethings are worth seeing through to the end. Like cooking. You know why cooking is so important?”

“Um...” Tracy looked at her grandmother like she was crazy. “We'd starve if we didn't cook?”

“That's one aspect of food. Another aspect is that it brings people together.” Modine smiled again.

“How?” Tracy handed her the pepper shaker.

“We're both at the table right now, aren't we?” The older woman asked in a sage like voice.

“Yeah.” Tracy nodded.

“Now if I had just let you have cereal, do you think we would have taken the time to talk while making the breakfast?”

“No.”

Modine nodded. “See. Food can comfort, heal, relax and so much more.” She leaned in close to Tracy. “What is your favorite part of cookies, other then the eating?”

“The smell?” Tracy asked.

“And when you smell cookies being baked, what do you think of?”

“That one Christmas when I had pneumonia and you brought some cookies to me.” Tracy smiled.

“Your first thought when you smell apple pie?” Modine asked.

“Thanksgiving. Dad always insists on Apple pie. And everyone is always here.” Tracy replied.

“So you equate food to memories too. See how much food can mean to people? So each time you cook, you could be making a memory for someone.”

“I never thought of it like that.” Tracy said with a grin.

“Well, looks like you got something new to think about.”

“Yep.” Tracy nodded.

“Come on, let's eat, there's more time to talk after we do dishes.” Modine said.

The two of them ate in semi silence, giving Tracy the chance to think about what she had learned about food and life. The little girl stayed quiet as she started to put the dishes into the sink. Modine picked up her paper and began working on the crossword puzzle again.

“Now what I told you about making mistakes, that's not just for food. Take that karate class you're taking. You have to practice, right?”

Tracy looked to her grandmother and nodded. “Yeah.”

“And some of the stuff you couldn't do when you started the class, you can do now, right?” Modine sat her pencil down for a second. “Like balance? You seemed to fall on your butt a lot, but you're better now, right?”

“Yep.” Tracy smiled at that. She had been training as hard as she could. Her father had pushed for both of his sons to take a class on some kind of fighting skill. His brother had gone with boxing, like Troy's father had taken when he was a kid. Troy had gone a different route. He had watched the different martial artists and liked what he saw in Kung Fu. So after may weeks of looking for something he could enjoy, he found it in a class one town away, Chen Style of Tai chi.

His father wasn't impressed. There was almost no contact in it, no like in boxing, but he still let the boy stay with it. Less then six months later, Vance had enough of people actually hitting him and he dropped out of the boxing classes that he was taking, but his tough guy attitude stayed around. That was the one saving grace to it all. His father had thanked him for sticking with it. And it was helping him out too.

“So, if you make a mistake in class, do you give up?” She asked.

“No.” Tracy shook her head.

“And why not?” Modine gave her that big smile again.

“Because I'd never learn? How can I get good if I stop. Plus I like it.” She smiled.

“Then baby, if you like it, that's all that matters.” Modine chuckled. “You should get cleaned up young lady. Got to look your best for your mother today.”

Tracy's cheeks turned a bright red color as she stepped from the sink, stopping by her grandmother long enough to hug the older lady. “Thank you Grandma, for everything.”

“You're welcome.” Modine said, putting a hand on the girls back. “You're very welcome.”