“PT said a few weeks, three at the most.”
Carson nods and zeros in on the hockey game they’re talking about. Hutch is engrossed as well, so I keep my post by the stove. Pizza can easily burn and as much as I loved the taste of the cottage cheese pizza crust, it got a little darker than I’d like. It’s why I turned the heat down this time around.
Fifteen minutes later, Jenny and Dylan come back downstairs, neither looking upset. I hope they worked everything out. She sniffs when she comes to stand by me.
“Smells good.”
“Or it’s the Papa Johns.”
“Could be.”
“Everything okay?” I nod toward Dylan who’s standing by Hutch.
“Yes. He planned to tell me after the game tomorrow. Said he needed to focus on one thing at a time. I get it.”
“But you still wish he’d told you before Hutch blabbed it?”
She nods.
“Men are stupid at the best of times, downright ignorant at the worst of times. At least according to Nana and my mother.”
“Party in one hour!” one of the football guys roar as they come in through the front door, followed by another ten or fifteen guys. The girls pull up the rear.
My queue to disappear upstairs. Well, as soon as I get the pizza out of the oven. Which should be about now. Checking it, I’m right. I grab a towel and pull it out of the oven, the gooey cheese all melty and yummy. I collect the salad and the Parmesan cheese. I’d grated most of the cheeses last night so I wouldn’t have so much prep work today.
Thankfully, I’d made a large tomato salad. It might be enough.
“That looks likepico de gallo,” Hutch remarks when I put it out on the counter.
“It’s not, though. No onions and mostly different spices. I grew up eating this in West Virginia. It’s simple, but delicious. Cost effective too.”
“So what else do you eat in West Virginia I’ve probably never heard of?”
“Fried green tomatoes.”
“Isn’t that a movie or something?”
“It is, but it’s also a food.”
“What you just throw tomatoes in a pan or something?”
“Or something,” I murmur. That might actually be something he could eat if it’s done without wheat flour.
“What else?”
“Hmmm, let me think. Fried potatoes, beans, and cornbread are a staple. Then we have chow chow, red eye gravy, lettuce and onions in hot oil, fried corn, pickled corn, anything with ramps…should I go on?”
“No. I do want to try some of them though.”
“Most of those would derail your diet in five point two seconds flat.”
He snorts. “All the good things are bad for you.”
I take the pizza cutter out of the drawer and slice the still hot pizza. “There, everything is ready. Can you help me open up the pizza boxes to set up please?”
“You know, yours looks better.”
“That’s because those have been sitting for a while. I’ll admit I prefer pizza from an actual pizza place than my own. If I had a pizza oven, then maybe I’d change my mind.”
