“There’s more,” Collin says.
Daisy turns her eyes to him.
I elbow him in the gut. He doesn’t need to tell her I may or may not have called her my girl. He’ll do it for spice, but now is not the time.
“Carson’s coming over too since he’s part of the team. He did not get a call when they were looking at all three of us.”
Thank God.
Well no, because I feel bad for Carson. It’s shit. Thank God Collin kept his mouth shut about my slip up.
“Hailey, get the party goers out of the house!” Jenny shouts over the noise and turns off the stereo. They actually have a stereo system someone’s boyfriend set up. It’s cool.
She is met by boos to which she glares. “Keep complaining and there will be no parties here for the rest of the year.”
I follow Daisy into the kitchen where she has several large bowls of different ground up meats.
“What is all that?”
“Beef, chicken, and turkey. Just because it’s your cheat day doesn’t mean it’s everyone else’s.”
“Did the guys pitch in and help with the cost of the groceries?” Collin asks as he comes over.
“Not yet.” Jenny takes three large platters down and the parchment paper to set out in front of Daisy who starts shaping patties to transfer over. “They’re all downstairs except Dylan. Seems no one really wanted a party even though people were arriving.”
Collin growls. “How much?”
“Two hundred, ten dollars and some change.”
He turns and heads toward the door leading to both the basement and the attic, disappearing downstairs and yelling at the top of his lungs for money.
“Is he always that loud?” Daisy asks as she hands over a full platter of patties to Jenny who takes it and walks outside to the back porch where Dylan is manning the grill.
“Yeah, but he’s got a large extended family back in Mexico. He has loud relatives and an overly loudabeula.” I’d met his grandmother when we all went to visit his family in Mexico last summer. She’s a peach.
She shakes her head and finishes off the last of the patties before rinsing out the bowls and putting them in the dishwasher.
“Can you hand me that bag over by the door?”
“Sure.” I pick it up and give it to her. “What’s that?”
“Avocado oil. I’m going to use it for the fries. Hopefully my spice mix will help to mask the flavor.”
“Why not use regular oil?”
“This is healthier. It’s a trick I learned from my ex’s mom. His entire family did everything they could to help him achieve his dream of going to the NFL.”
I watch as she fills two cast iron pans full of the oil and then turns the stove on. She takes a large bowl of hand cut fries out of the fridge.
“Why are they in water?”
“To keep them from turning brown.”
She takes several handfuls and puts them down on paper towels and dries them off before dumping them into the waiting pans after the oil has heated enough.
“Have you ever had sweet potato fries before?”
“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never had them.”
