Not your memories, at least

You wake up to the smell of bacon, an unusual scent for the middle of the week. You head down stairs to investigate. As you approach, you hear a lively discussion peppered with laughter, strange given the usual rush of the week days.

"Oh, you are just a treasure," you hear from your mom

"Thank you, Mrs. Doe." That's a familiar voice. A girl from school, maybe a cheerleader? "but I really just wanted to do something nice for John." That doesn't sound like anyone you know. Did you make a change like that?

"Well, I hope he's doing nice things back." Your father chuckles. When was the last time your father didn't sound tired? "You're my favorite part about the boy."

You enter to the sort of laughter you only hear on sitcoms. "Good morning, John," Delilah smiles at you in that way that makes the morning good. "Have a seat. I'll fix you a plate."

None of this is making much sense, but you look at the meals set before your parents. Each have two waffles with two strips of bacon, a mimosa with raspberries and half a grapefruit. Delilah's own place has fresh squeezed orange juice and a bowl of assorted fruit with her bacon and waffles instead. She serves you a meal similar to her own with the addition of a hard-boiled egg in a cup. You notice the egg is colored and find that Delilah has drawn herself on your egg. The words 'I love you.' circle the base, an a little pink heart is painted on the bottom. How much time did she put into this?