Page 70 of RomeAntically Challenged
“It’s stock, organic and locally made. The lady at the store guaranteed no one would be able to tell the difference.”
“Then maybe you should ask the lady at the store for her recipe, because I guarantee mine doesn’t use cans, boxes, or jars.”
Annie sighed. “I don’t want the lady at the store to help me, Mom. I want you to help me but I don’t have six hours to make your stock.”
“You don’t need six hours, just use a pressure cooker,” her mother explained as if everyone owned a pressure cooker.
“I don’t have one.” Annie regretted her admission immediately.
“No pressure cooker? Marty, Annie doesn’t have a pressure cooker.” Delight beamed off her mother’s face before she disappeared from the screen. A split-second later the clanking and rustling began. Then came, “I’ve got an extra you can borrow. Marty, get some pants on. Annie’s borrowing our pressure cooker and I want to get on the road before it’s dark.”
“Mom, you don’t need to drive over,” Annie said, and Maura’s head peeked up from the bottom of the screen. “I can pick one up at the cooking shop downtown after I get off work tomorrow.”
“Why waste the money on a new one when we have an extra that will work just as well?” Her mom was already moving toward the front door. Annie had to look away from the screen because watching her childhood home whiz by was enough to make her seasick.
“Mom,” she yelled, covering her eyes, but not in time. “Flip the screen back so I see you and not Dad.” Who was sitting in his recliner in white boxers reading the day’s paper.
“Oh, I must have hit the button. Hang on.” It took her a good minute, and three flashes of her dad, up close and personal, lounging in his Fruit of the Looms, to swap views. “Oh, here we go.”
Annnnnnd... Maura was back.
“Thanks for offering to come here, but I work the a.m. shift tomorrow and I’m scheduled for doubles this week. Maybe I can just pick up some soup at a takeaway place near the hospital.”
“Oh,” Maura said, completely deflated. “But then it won’t beyourmom’s recipe.”
The last thing she wanted was to disappoint her mom. Maura had canceled a Bunco game with her friends to teach Annie her recipe. The least Annie could do was serve her mom’s soup at Pho Shizzle.
“You said I can freeze the cooked matzo balls, right?” Annie asked, noticing the spark was back in her mom’s smile—well, what she could see of it at the bottom of the screen. “Why don’t you and Dad mail me the pressure cooker? I’ll pay for the shipping, and we can do the stock Friday afternoon.”
It would be cutting it close, and the shipping would cost her more than buying her own pressure cooker, but if the appliance would cut down the cooking timeandmake her mom smile like that, then it was worth every cent.
“And maybe you can throw in some of the Whole Food Plant Based muffins Dad was telling me about.” Which would make her dad smile.
“I’ll have your dad drop it in the mail first thing in the morning.” Maura put a hand to her mouth, her eyes watering. “And I’ll add the recipe with the muffins. You can’t even tell there’s no butter, sugar, or oil in it.”
“I’ll be sure to mention it to Dad,” she said. “Then I’ll Venmo you the cost of the shipping.”
“Nonsense. You can pay me back when you come up for the wedding.”
And just when Annie thought they were starting a new chapter in their relationship, Annie found herself right back atOnce upon a time there was a girl who couldn’t keep a man...“I e-mailed Clark’s mom and said I wasn’t going to be able to come,” Annie lied, making a mental note to cancel with Ms. Atwood, since Maura would likely check the validity of Annie’s story.
“Funny, I saw her at the dry cleaner and she assured me there was room for our family at the table.”
Other people’s choices are not a reflection of me. Other people’s choices are not a reflection of me. OTHER PEOPLE’S CHOICES ARE NOT A REFLECTION OF ME!
“Hold on a sec, Mom.” Annie muted the call and stepped out of view. “Are you kidding me? Your choice to make me look like some pathetic stalker of an exisreflecting on me. And.” She stomped. “That.” She stomped again. “Reflection.” A whole body stomp. “Is not looking good!”
“What you should be saying is, ‘Loving someone means trusting them. It’s hard to have one without the other.’” The amused whisper came from the bedroom. Annie didn’t have to turn to know who was talking; her lips tingled their hello.
Emmitt wore faded jeans riding obscenely low on his hips, a wrinkled shirt, and bare feet. His hair was tousled, his eyes sleepy, as if he’d just woken up.
“You’ve been waiting to use that, haven’t you?” she asked.
“If I say yes, will you throw that whisk at me?” he asked, and she laughed, deep from her belly until her eyes grew moist. Only partly from frustrated tears.
“Hey,” he said, coming closer and pulling her into his arms. He was warm and strong and smelled like heaven. And she didn’t want to ever let go.
His arms tightened around her as if he understood. The intensity of the emotion behind his embrace shook her. It was protective and real, and somehow pure.
