Not So Fast

 

 

 Naturally since I said that yesterday's lily was the last one, this pair of little Stella d'Oro lilies stared down from the retaining wall this morning.  So no more predictions of summer's last lily.  Instead here is today's lily.  Ta-da!

 

Coming back from snapping the photo of the lilies I spied (with my little eye) this reddening tomato on the vine.  They are ripening at a good rate, one ready to eat before the next one is pickable.  Just as if I planned it.

 

 

 

Lunch today was a smoked turkey wrap with broccoli slaw and a dab of horseradish sauce.  Grapes on the side.  I told you that I would get back onto the straight and narrow today and here's midday proof.  I had yogurt, blueberries, and a bit of granola for breakfast and cabbage roll stew for supper.  None of it chased by a pint of chocolate ice cream or a bag of Snyder's of Hanover Honey Mustard & Onion pretzel pieces.  My renter, ED, and I agreed that Devil's Food cake is not the devil's food, it's those pretzels.  Once you have one piece you can't hardly stop until the whole bag is empty.  I was proud that it took me two days to eat the bag this time.

07 August--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

“Oh, thank goodness.  I was afraid that Marcus was in trouble too.” She said as she swung the door wide to let Naomi in.  “Here.  Let me help.”  Fay reached out and took the covered pot balanced precariously on top of the box her friend carried.  “Mmm, something smells delicious,” she said and carried the pot into the kitchen where she set it on the stove. 

Naomi gently put the box on the corner of the kitchen table and turned to look at Fay, hands on hips.  “What has gotten into you tonight?” 

Fay was surprised Naomi did not know.  “Didn’t you and Marcus see that the police were here?  I heard something in the hall and, thinking it was you, opened the door in time to see a cop lead that kid from down at the end away in handcuffs.  I have seen him talking to Marcus a few times and was afraid that the boys had gotten into some sort of trouble.”  She was nearly panting with the rush of words.  She sat down at the table and put a hand over her heart.  “I guess I was more upset about the idea than I thought.” 

Naomi looked down at her.  “Well, I guess you were.  I think it has been a while since you lived in a place quite this far down the food chain.”  She started to unload the box.  “Cops and handcuffs are almost an everyday occurrence in this complex.  There is a passel of drug dealers and a pimp or two in those buildings on either side of the entrance.  This end is mostly single mothers and welfare families like Marcus and me.” 

Fay got up and began setting the table while Naomi talked.  “Those bad boys down the hall are one of the reasons I keep after Marcus.  He sees them with their fancy clothes and jewelry, and the cars! you would not believe their cars, he thinks he should have that sort of thing too.  I tell him and tell him that a life lived like that, all bad and lazy and disrespectful, ain’t no life at all.”  Naomi stopped talking and stared off into space, her hands hanging limply over the edge of the box. 

Fay looked at her to see if something was wrong.  “You okay?” she said. 

Naomi shook her head and said, “Yeah, I’m fine.  I just sounded like Mama there for a minute.  Even though she never talked to me after I got pregnant, sometimes I miss her like crazy.” 

Fay could see the glimmer of tears in her friend’s eyes and busied herself wiping non-existent water spots off the silverware. 

Naomi shook herself like a dog shaking off water after a bath.  “Got to stop myself thinking like that or I will sink into the pit and disappear.”  She lifted a square baking dish from the box and set it on a trivet she had put out earlier. 

“Mm, that smells terrific,” said Fay.  “What is it?” 

“It is a new lasagna recipe I cut out of the paper, with sun-dried tomato Alfredo sauce and chopped spinach.  Here, let me slide the garlic bread in your oven so it crisps a bit.” 

Fay grasped the knob on top of the pan to see what was inside, but Naomi slapped her hand away.  “No checking out the dessert until you have eaten your supper.” 

“Hey, I was only going to look.” 

“Well, don’t.” 

The women sat down across the table from each other and Naomi served them each a slab of lasagna.  Fay hopped up and pulled pieces of garlic bread from the oven then served them each some, blowing on her fingers after putting them down.  Then she thought better of it and licked the garlic butter off of them.  “I love garlic bread,” she said.  “I could make a meal of just that.” 

Naomi nodded.  “Amen.  There is nothing better than crispy French bread with its soft insides brushed with garlic butter and then the whole thing heated up.  But we have to consider our waistlines.”  She frowned at Fay.  “Not so much you; you are as skinny as a toothpick.  I even think about eating and I gain weight.” 

“Oh, pooh.  Let’s stop talking about eating and eat.”   Fay planned to wait until they were done eating to tell her about Brady’s, well, her plan for Naomi to work at the diner, but she was too excited about it and barely got her first bite swallowed before she started talking.  “I have something to tell you.” 

Naomi’s eyes popped up from looking at her food to stare at Fay.  “What?  Are you moving away already?” 

Fay waved her fork.  “Not hardly.  I barely have enough money to pay my rent and make payments on my car repairs.  I would be a fool to go anywhere.  No, I was talking to Brady this morning about what a good mom you are and how good your food is and how you have been looking for a job but can not find one to fit your needs.” 

“Here it comes,” Naomi said.  “Miss New York is going to fix the poor woman’s problems.” 

Fay sat back from the table and dropped her fork with a clatter.  “Nice.  At least hear me out before you pass judgment on my idea, please.” 

“Fine. Go ahead and have your say.” 

Fay picked her fork back up and cut a bite of lasagna.  “I was planning to no matter what you said, but I was telling Brady how good your food is and he asked me why you are still on welfare if you can cook so well.  I told him about you wanting Marcus to stay in school and out of trouble and how you can not find a job that will let you take him to school in the morning and pick him up to keep him on track.  How playing football might be his only chance of a life beyond the ghetto.  You know how men understand if you relate something to sports, I thought that might get to Brady.”  She put the bite of food she had been waving around in her mouth and chewed and swallowed before continuing.  “Brady is getting real tired of being trapped in the kitchen since he fired that guy the morning he hired me and I thought you might be just what he is wishing for.” 

Naomi jumped in when Fay took a breath.  “But what about getting Marcus to school and such? What did he say about that?” 

“That is the coolest part,” Fay said with a grin.  “Brady agreed that you could slip out when it is time to take Marcus because that is right between the early morning rush and the later breakfast crowd.  I told him I thought you would only need to be gone about a half an hour.” 

Naomi nodded her agreement. 

“So, he said you should come over to the diner tomorrow about nine a.m. and you and he could talk.” 

“Just talk?” 

“Well, not just talk; I might have suggested that you would make sausage gravy for him because lumpy gravy is what got the last guy fired, and your gravy is the best I have ever had.” 

Today's toss was a box of coffee mugs and placemats.  An odd pairing but that's what was in the box when I dragged it out from under the basement steps so that's what got in the donate pile today.  I found a bunch of razor cartridges that, happily, fit the razor my renter uses so, instead of some Goodwill customer getting them, MD will get them.  I'd rather they went to a friend than a stranger.

--Barbara