? Top with 1/2 of the ground beef mixture.
? Spoon 1/2 of the corn and tomatoes over the meat layer in the pan.
? Top with 1/3 of the Cheddar cheese in an even layer.
? Crush tortilla chips over the cheese layer.
? Repeat the layers a second time.
? The top layer should now be covered with Cheddar cheese. Spoon the salsa over this layer until it forms a fairly even coating. Top with olives (optional).
? Bake fifteen to twenty minutes until heated through and cheese is melted.
? Remove and serve while hot and ooey-gooey.
Family Dinner
Starring Madge, Renaldo, Georgie, and Claire, fromThe Orc’s Christmas Romance(and a lot of other books, too)
“Mi amore, you just sit there. Have your wine. Let me look at you.”
Renaldo is the only man that I’ve ever loved in my life. More importantly, perhaps, is the fact that Ray is the only man who has ever loved me. Oh, when I was young and cute, and less afraid of pissing people off, there were boys who came around. They wanted something, something I might not have minded giving, but there was never love.
Love potions never work, by the way. Take it from a witch. You basically have a mental delusion potion, because true love can’t happen because of herbs in a bottle.
True love means they love you with gray hair and hammertoes. Or a mouth that isn’t prone to smiling. True love means they see how beautiful you are when you can’t see it.
It means this sexy, short stud muffin, who must be five foot six, seems like Fabio in a loincloth to this gray-haired “spinster” wicked witch who is barely scraping five foot three.
“I’m nervous.”
True love means you can say that shit, too.
“Why,mi amore? I have made this recipe for you a dozen times, and you always like it.” Ray hurries to me and kisses my cheek while topping up my glass.
“What if I... What if I can’t do this thing? Where I’m someone’s wife and stepmother? Grandmother? Oh, God,mother-in-law!” I put my hands over my eyes. Maybe if I hide, the future won’t see me.
Ray just laughs. “Can’t do this?Loca. You can do anything you want. I believe that you could fly me to the moon on the back of your broom, if you wanted. Hmm? Or maybe I would be turned into a toad? I would still hop around after you all day. And I would croak— ‘Mi vida.Mi amore.’”
I snort-laugh at the idea of a lovesick toad following me around the magic shop. “Those are stereotypes,” I try to sound stern.
And for some reason, some very annoying reason, Ray isn’t ever afraid of the steel wool personality I project. It’s like he weaves right through the tangly little prickles and sees that there is someone sweet underneath, carefully hidden, revealed only as needed.
“Exactly! Madge, what is your idea of what a wife and mother should be?” he challenges, pulling on oven mitts adorned with the phrase, “Quit your bitchin’ or exit my kitchen!”
“Someone... motherly. Younger? Sweeter?”
“Stereotypes,” he says, pulling the most delectably cheesy, ooey-gooey pan of his famous taco bake out of the oven.
“No fair using my own weapons against me.”
“You like that I play dirty. And I like that about you, too. What is a wife? A wife for me is not some young, bubbly, innocent thing. She is the woman who pulls me under a tree on the night of the full moon, the one who makes love like a wildcat in the fresh snow. In public.” He closes his eyes, leans against the fridge, and lets out a lusty groan.
“No one was watching,” I say, blushing as I remember the first night we made love, the winter solstice when Georgie and Claire got engaged.
“You would not have cared if they were. You would have told them to leave, or you would have flayed them with a look. And that is the woman I would want for my wife and the mother of my child. Strong! Brave! Sexy. Okay, that last bit is just for me.” He winks.
“But—”
