1 Cup (1/2 pint) Whipping Cream – Whipped
In bowl, beat together eggs, 1/2 cup sugar and Real Lemon. In saucepan, combine remaining sugar and cornstarch. Stir in water. Cook and stir until thickened and remove from heat. Gradually beat in egg mixture. Over low heat, cook and stir until slightly thickened. Add vanilla and cool. Fold in whipped cream. Serve with fresh fruit. Refrigerate leftovers.
Very good with pineapple, strawberries, apples, grapes, bananas, and cantaloupe.
Clarissa
“LOOK, MOMMY! IT’S TROY!
Troy’s face graces the Jumbotron as the crowd stands on their feet, screaming their heads off, Dante and I included. It’s been one hell of a football game, and mostly due to Troy’s incredible plays. After being down by seven the whole second quarter, the Rangers came back kicking and screaming after halftime. Troy just scored another touchdown, one of two in the last five minutes, and this one included an impressive thirty-six-yard run that had him diving past the goal line. On the field, Troy’s a force to be reckoned with, and I can see the pride in his son’s eyes due to their association.
Briefly, I entertain the idea of telling Dante the truth about his father. How elated will he be when he finds out it’s Troy? Will he be upset? Will he be angry with me or the both of us? I decide I could never deprive Troy of that moment. It’s one he’ll get to share with his son. When the time is right, and I’m confident, I’ll give it to him.
Dante’s still screaming along with the crowd, his little fists in the air, the look on his face priceless. I pull him to me, hugging him fiercely as he cheers for his father. It’s not a moment I’d ever thought he’d have and emotions run rampant inside of me at the thought that if Troy sticks, I’ll have to share him forever. For so long, it’s just been the two of us, well us and Parker, and now the dynamic is changing. The selfish part of me mourns the loss, but most of me is happy for Dante. For the idea that he’ll finally have two parents and all that entails. A sort of peace washes over me then. I no longer have to shoulder it all alone. Troy is invested, it’s clear. I just have to believe he’s going to make good on all he’s promised. Seconds later, we appear on the Jumbotron, and Dante gives a thumbs up, shouting, “Go TROY!”
“Oh my God, he’s so cute!” Two of the girls next to us compliment while others around us vie for their shot at the camera. It’s no coincidence we’re on the big screen. I know Troy set it up. I’m thankful I put on a full face tonight and curled the hair beneath my toboggan. For the last few hours, I’ve felt a little like my old self, back in my element at a game at my old alma mater. And I know I have Troy to thank for this as my son squeals in my arms.
Our son.
Troy’s made it a point to eat breakfast with Dante every day. I don’t object, loving the stability it brings in their new relationship. This morning when he was running late, I found myself looking out the window to see if he was on his way, tempted to text. It’s happening, he’s become a part of our routine. But this relationship is between a father and his son. And I can’t for one minute let myself slip into believing we’re forming more than a co-parenting relationship. I don’t want to be angry anymore. I don’t want Dante to see the bitter grudge I hold against his father. I’m becoming more relaxed with this new situation, but some part of me is still fearful this could blow up in my face.
“Mommy, that was so fun,” Dante says in a sleepy voice from the backseat.
“You like football?”
“Yes! Troy is my favorite player.”
“He would love to hear you say that. You should tell him.”
“I will. You think he’s coming over tonight?”
“I don’t think so, buddy.”
“Why?”
Because he’s probably going to celebrate with a few beers and a blonde on each knee. “He’s probably really tired.”
“Oh, well, I’ll tell him at breakfast tomorrow.”
Thoughts of Troy’s celebration don’t sit well with me, but it’s pure ignorance to feel any sort of jealousy. First, I’m in a new relationship. Secondly, he’s been sleeping around since he came back into our lives, and that’s more of a turnoff than anything. That alone makes it impossible for me to believe he’s sincere about any sort of feelings he harbors toward me.
It’s not about you.
Pushing all those thoughts away, I dial Parker’s number. She answers on the second ring.
“Hey, you. I was just thinking about you.”
“What time is it there?”
“It’s noon.”
“Ah, good. I’m glad I didn’t wake you up.”
“I’m drunk.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I’m drunk.”
“What are you drinking?”
“Huangjiu, it’s like Sake but not Sake, and I just wrote another amazon review…this one is about a toilet cleaner brush.”
“What in the world?” I can’t help my laugh. Parker hates social media but uses product reviews to speak to strangers online about real-life issues. She claims it’s therapeutic.
“Would you like to hear it?”
“Of course.”
She ceremoniously clears her throat. “Here goes. Here I am in 2019 with four failed relationships, on the verge of thirty years old. I’m currently in one of the best cities in the world. It’s noon, I’m drunk and bitterly alone, so I’ve resorted to writing a review on a toilet brush. What can I say? It’s a great toilet brush. It cleans very well, getting all the marks left behind after drinking too much. The design of the brush is your typical looking brush with over 100,000 bristles and a handle large enough that you won’t be covered in toilet water that looks delicious to dogs but not humans. I thought it would be larger, kinda like I thought I’d be more successful in life than I am now. So now here I am, writing metaphors while listening to Radiohead about said toilet brush—that’s what I’ve got so far, what do you think?”
“I think you need to come home.”
“Don’t. I hear the worry in your voice, and I’m fine. Really. Just…”
Her voice trails off, and my eyes water.
“I’m just…lonely. I mean, I know I have you and that kid, but I want someone to spend my life with.”
“You’ll find him.”
“Yeah.” She doesn’t believe me, but I refuse to believe the opposite. Parker is far too special to walk through life alone.
“Are you still happy with your job?”
“Sure,” she says with a sigh. “I love it.”
“Then you’re exactly where you need to be. Just keep the faith.”
“Okay, pity party over. What are you and the munchkin up to?”
“We don’t have to change the subject.”
“Yes, we do. I’m sick of me.”
“I’ll never be.”
“Sake-to-me. What are you up to?”
“Cute. We went to Troy’s game. It was incredible. It reminded me of the best of times. I felt, I don’t know…nostalgic. Definitely made me miss you.”
“Yeah, we were awesome, now we’re all grown up and boring.”
I sigh my reply, “That we are.”
“So, did he play well?”
“Yes, Dante was so proud. He’s passed out now.”
“And what does Mommy think?”
“I think he’s an incredible athlete. And nothing more.”
“Girl, you’re lying to yourself. Has he talked to you anymore about, you know, since Halloween?”
“No. And it’s for the best.”
“Uh huh.”
“Parker, I’m serious. It’s a bad idea. What if it doesn’t work? How will that affect Dante? This would make an already complicated situation even worse.”
“So, you’re saying you want to give him a shot, but won’t because of your common bond, which just so happens to be the best reason to try.”
“It was so awesome seeing him in his element tonight. I’m a little dazzled, but at the end of the day, he’s still the same ol
d dog, same tricks.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Brett’s doing well, thank you.”
“Yeah? Great,” she spouts dryly.
“Why don’t you like him?”
“He seems to be taking his sweet assed time wooing you. That’s not sitting well with me.”
“It’s an adult relationship. And to be honest, my first real one.”
“Well, give me fireworks and passion over that bullshit any day. It sounds truly boring.”
“It’s not. It’s comfortable.”
“Whatever you say. Kampi!” I can hear the clink of her bottle as she pours and then swallows.
“Isn’t that Japanese?”
“Yep.”
“Babe, you do realize you’re in China, right?”
“Yep. But the cities are getting blurry now. One of these days you’re going to have to come with me on one of these adventures.”
“I will.”
“Okay, I’m going to finish this bottle and see if I can turn this day into a segue for something better, maybe like in Lost in Translation, where I end up with the love of my life in a karaoke bar while we party with complete strangers and do strange things.”
“Do it, babe, I have all the faith.”
“Yeah, and do yourself a favor and bone your neighbor, because you’re missing out on the best sex of your life.”
“No.”
“Fine.”
“Love you. Don’t Sake and drive.”
“You know I won’t. Konnichiwa!”
I giggle. “Still Japanese, Parker. And I think that means hello.”
“What’s your point?”
Troy
I ride the high my whole drive home, eager to try and catch Dante before he goes to sleep. I send off a last-minute text to Clarissa just before I head into our neighborhood in hopes she can keep him awake just a few minutes longer. My phone rings, and I answer without checking to see who it is, my smile already in place. She doesn’t bother saying hello, but dives right in.
“Wooo weee, boy, I’m so damned proud of you. You killed it tonight.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I texted you to see if you wanted to celebrate with Luis and me. He wanted to buy you a beer.”
“Sorry, I got caught up in the post-game and just wanted to shower and get home.”
“So, no party tonight?”
“Plenty of them, but I’m opting out.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’ve got something better in mind.” Instead of picturing Dante’s reception, I see Clarissa on the Jumbotron, dressed in a Grand hoodie and matching beanie, holding our son close. She was glowing, her smile stretched across her face, and something inside of me flipped the minute I saw them.
“So, what’s the big plan?”
Win her.
“Just going to take it easy.”
“The news is highlighting the game now.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah! They’re talking about you, son! HEY, RECORD THAT!”
“On it,” I hear Luis reply. “Good job, Troy,” he says by way of conversation. Luis is soft-spoken and treats Mom like gold, we aren’t exactly best friends, but we’re friendly. As long as he treats her well, we have no issues.
“Tell him I said thanks.”
“I will, and you’re getting drafted,” she adds proudly. “I know it.”
“Let’s hope so. Then I can finally buy your dream house.”
“I’m happy here.”
“You’ll be happier on that front porch you’ve been dreaming about. Keep dreaming, Mom. I’m going to give it to you.”
“You earned that. I wouldn’t take a dime from you. I hope you know I don’t expect that.”
“What’s the fun of becoming rich if you can’t spoil the people you love?”
“You’re going to make some lucky lady very happy one day.”
“Hope so.”
“Oh, you will.”
Clarissa’s scowl crosses my mind, and I can’t help my chuckle.
“Yeah, well, I have a feeling she won’t come easy.”
“You’ve met her already?” Her voice lifts, hopeful. She’s been hard on me growing up, especially when it comes to the ladies. I’m nowhere near ready to deal with the confrontation that’s coming once I reveal the truth but decide to use her mood to start the process.
“Mom, there’s something I need to tell you. Something that—”
My words are cut short when I pull into my drive and see Clarissa wrapped around her boyfriend. They’re kissing and not in a friendly way. Every bit of my high evaporates when I see her grab his hand and pull him inside.
“You there? Troy?”
“Yeah, I, shit Mom, something’s come up. I’ll have to call you back.”
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Just keep those good thoughts coming, okay?”
I run a hand over my jaw as Clarissa’s porch light clicks off.
“What happened, you were just chipper. Who pissed in your Cheerios?”
“Nothing. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Love you. Proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Is she about to sleep with him? With Dante in the house? I can’t say shit, I would’ve gladly taken a side of her bed if she’d given me the opportunity on Halloween.
Resisting the urge to shoot off another text, I white knuckle my wheel. The hardest part of wanting what you can’t have is the realization it might not ever be yours. And that’s where I am, swallowing the verdict after years of the same woman closing the door in my face.
Jealousy for the man who’s taking what I desperately want courses through me, my eyes burn as I keep them fixed on the house I want so much to call home, the family inside to claim as my own.
The idea of what’s going on behind that door is ripping at me, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it. Her mind’s been made up for years, and I’m the one who needs to face facts. I have got to let it go.
Clarissa: I’ve got company. See you in the morning?
The burn inside my chest worsens as I raise my phone to my ear and put my truck in reverse.
Kevin answers on the second ring.
“Sup?”
“Where are you?”
Jennifer’s Sausage Dip
Biologist, Montana
Makes 10 servings
30 minutes
2 Lbs. Sausage
1 Lb. Jalapeno Velveeta
1 Lb. Velveeta
1 Envelope Garlic Dressing Mix (May use garlic powder.)
1 Can Evaporated Milk
Brown sausage until no longer pink. Drain. **Place all other ingredients in a saucepan. Heat on low until cheese melts. Stir sausage into cheese mixture.
Serve with tortilla chips.
**Time saver—Cheese and other ingredients can be combined in a microwave dish.
Clarissa
I’m two sips into my morning coffee when I see Theo angrily bound down the steps of his house before throwing an instrument case in his back seat. Seconds later, Troy is in front of him, his posture deflated.
“Jesus, man. I had no idea.”
“Of fucking course, you didn’t,” Theo says in disgust.
“I don’t know what to say. I fucked up.”
“Did you even talk to her? Do you ever really talk to any of them?” Troy hangs his head as Theo lays into him. “If you would have spent more than five fucking minutes luring her into your bed, you might have been able to connect the dots. Instead, you’ve fucked my ex!”
Eyes wide, I try to muffle the sound of my coffee going down the wrong pipe as Troy speaks up. “Tell me what to do to make this right.”
“You can’t do anything.” Theo snaps, and briefly, I fear he may take a swing at Troy, which could be disastrous.
“That girl meant everything to me, for years, and you fuck her and treat her like she’s
disposable. Can’t you see how wrong that is?”
Troy’s voice is hoarse when he speaks. “Tell me what to do.”
“How about you grow the fuck up a little?”
“It was a mistake.”
“No, hell no,” Theo corrects. “You don’t get to claim that. That was intentional. She was my mistake. To you, she was just last night.”
A beautiful blonde moves onto the porch, tears streaming down her face as Theo slams his car door and studies her briefly before tearing out of the driveway. Instantly I hate her for the rift she’s caused. I’m not allowed to be jealous, but I am, I’m swimming in it. Did she knowingly sleep with Troy to hurt Theo? If I have to judge by the devastation on her face, it seems it was a random hookup, and the realization has taken all three of them by surprise, Troy more so as he stands there staring after his roommate seeming lost. He glances toward my house and straightens when he sees me frozen on my porch watching it unfold. I have no idea what expression I’m wearing. Troy stares at me for long seconds before walking back up to the porch and ushering the blonde inside before slamming his front door.
Is he angry with me? I’m not to blame for this damned drama. Once again, his dick got him into a mess that goes beyond a casual hookup. Will he ever learn? Minutes later, I’m on my second cup of coffee when the blonde, no longer dressed in Troy’s jersey, is escorted to her car. Her face is splotchy from her tears. She didn’t mean to do it. She’s no victim, but what happened wasn’t intentional on either of their parts. Theo couldn’t see it, or maybe he could, and was too furious to care. All three of them are in this situation because of circumstance, I’m sure of it. I’m also confident that Theo and Troy’s relationship won’t ever be the same. I feel for Troy as he stands there staring after the girl who’s pulling out of his driveway with a lot more morning after baggage than she bargained for.
“Are you okay?” I ask Troy as he turns to me, his eyes cold, distant. It stings me in a way I’m not prepared for.
“Don’t you have a son to tend to? Anything else you could be doing?”
“Hey, I live here. You’re the one with your drama spilling out into the street.”
The Guy on the Left Page 12