Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Maybe this was just adulting, except we weren’t paying rent or utilities. My cash went for the groceries and eating out. The rest was saved. The law firm paid Dash twenty-five dollars an hour. His money went toward professional grooming. Jumping headfirst into his expensive haircuts and highlights, buying high-dollar hair products and facial soaps and lotions that supposedly made his skin soft and youthful. He made me use the products too. I couldn’t tell the difference, but he swore they helped.
“I have the Christmas dinner menu planned. Wanna hear it?” she asked, rifling through the purse she had hanging over her body. “Actually, it’s a lead-up menu, starting a couple days before the big day. The meal takes time, so I created a three-day celebration. Dash told me he’d be off through the holidays, then start with the firm full time in January. I figured you’d have to work through Christmas Eve.”
I nodded, fearful that I might have to work Christmas Day. My mother continued telling me about her menu without so much as a grunted response from me. “I plan to have an appetizer party, celebrating Dash’s graduation. Dash asked to have friends over. People who’re displaced for the holidays.” Well, that was new information for me. The distraction had me barreling up on a small car. I had to focus on the road. It wasn’t easy. Nothing had changed for me. I didn’t like his friends, more so now. They were like Dash’s family. Pretentious and believing they were on a higher plane than everyone else, but Dash really enjoyed them, so I suffered through.
“Of course, I’ll have the cheese dip you like and your favorite chips. Then I thought we’d change it up. Have individual caprese appetizers.” She looked over at me, or at least I felt her eyes on me. “They’re easy, and Dash likes them. They’re a grape tomato and a small cube of mozzarella. Then basil and olive oil. I’ll add olives and sliced meat to the tray.”
In the silence, I realized she was waiting for me to respond. I nodded, and she turned back to her list. “I planned for warm brie and pear tartlets. Bacon wrapped figs. Cranberry, pecan, goat cheese individual balls. I’ll probably go half cream cheese and half goat cheese. And the best tasting Gruyère and thyme stacked potatoes—small bite-size potatoes. All of that can be made ahead of time. I also found several cocktail recipes I want to try. I thought you could take leftovers the next day for lunch. They may be easier to eat throughout the day. Sound good?”
I nodded again but had my apprehensions. It sounded fancy, which wasn’t her normal style. “Christmas Eve, we’ll have the ham that you like so much, cheesy potatoes au gratin, and fresh green beans. Your favorite meal.”
I nodded this time in appreciation. A honey-baked ham and green beans were the best food out there.
“Then prime rib, leftover ham, a new dressing recipe that I found, seared broccoli rabe with toasted almonds and homemade croutons—my favorite—and glazed carrots, roasted sweet potatoes, and I found a shaved brussels sprout salad. It looks amazing.”
Huh. That was a far different meal than she’d ever made before. I scrunched my nose at brussels sprout anything, but the rest sounded pretty good. “What about bread?”
“Yep, got it down. I think yeast rolls are a good choice.”
Yum. My favorite. “Amelia’s coming to stay for a few days, she’s making tamales in bulk for some guys at work. They’re paying her. I’ll help you however I can. I’ll chop anything and do the prep work when I get home at night,” I offered, breathing a sigh of relief when I finally merged onto the right freeway to take us home.
“That’ll help a lot. I feel like this is a big undertaking, but I like to cook, and we’ve been so poor…” Her words trailed off as the freeway opened at least enough to pick up speed. “No, I’m not going backward, only forward. I have a decent budget for decorating.”
“Mom,” I started. We talked about this. No over-the-top decorations. Maybe a tree but nothing more.
“But I want to, Beau. The lights are colorful and bring joy. We can run lighted garland up the banister and over the windows and doorways. Of course we’ll do the tree.”
“Where am I gonna put all that stuff when the season’s over?” I asked.
“Half the condo isn’t being used, or we can get a small rental unit. We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Let me do this. You two are carrying a load and I’m proud of you.” Oh man, mom guilt was the worst kind of guilt.
I finally nodded because I knew her better than anyone. She’d argue all the way to actually putting the decorations up.
Weirdly, I was developing a new set of insecurities that I needed to figure out. Dash was diving headfirst into his career path, which I was so proud of him for. He deserved only good experiences from life. But something about the long relentless hours he put in, followed by lots of gatherings with his peers, was running my guy ragged. Maybe I was jealous. Dash had loved me so good that it was hard to lose his undivided attention. Yeah sure, he always included me in his outings, but Dash rarely slept. I needed rest. And our sex was lackluster at best.