Layla taped the bright yellow recipe card to the fridge and rang the doorbell. She hummed a loud tune while tapping her foot on the cool marble floor. 'Come on, come on!' she whispered.
Mama was on the phone at her desk. Papa was packing a suitcase by the door. Layla tapped the recipe card again. It quivered but nobody came.
Layla marched to her brother's room and tugged his sleeve. He held up a buzzing tablet. She marched to her sister's room and knocked. Her sister waved from behind a laptop screen.
Layla ran into the yard and waved her arms. A stray cat leaped over the low garden wall. A dog barked somewhere. Nobody looked up.
Layla dragged every recipe card onto the patio table. She slammed the oven on. The kitchen filled with the smell of cardamom and warm butter. She cracked eggs into a bowl and stirred until the mixture turned pale yellow.
The smell drifted down the hall. Footsteps appeared. Then more footsteps. Mama set down her phone. Papa closed his suitcase. Her brother and sister peeled themselves off their chairs and crowded into the kitchen.
Layla held up a wooden spoon like a conductor's baton. Everyone grabbed a bowl. Flour puffed into the air like a white cloud. The cat jumped onto the counter and watched with wide eyes. They laughed and kept mixing.
The oven timer dinged. Layla pulled out golden trays of date cookies. Everyone reached at the same time. A cookie landed on the floor. Nobody noticed. They ate and ate until their fingers were sticky and sweet.