neighborhood. Tell you what. If you get Ryan to approve it, I’ll slip you some of my recipes. I’ve got a killer one for coconut, and also my red velvet is to die for.”
He hits me with a high five. “You’re on.”
When my kids finally make up their minds, their choices are predictable. Mary wants a Fudgesicle, whereas Trisha goes for a Dreamsicle, and Jeff can’t make up his mind.
“Oh, hurry up already,” Mary mutters to him.
“Why?” Jeff smirks back. “Is your boyfriend coming over again tonight to tutor you in ‘math?’” He makes kissing sounds as he hugs himself.
“He might.” Mary glances over at me as she tosses her hair from her left side to her right one. It’s a nervous trait. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing.” Jeff shrugs. “But I would have thought that, by now, you would have gotten tired of him flirting… with Mom .”
Before I can say anything to put a stop to Jeff’s nonsense, Mary rubs her Fudgesicle in Jeff’s face and stalks off.
Jeff licks the tip of his nose. “Not bad! I’ll have another, garcon .”
I put my hands up. “No, Jeff, you won’t. Enjoy what’s left of Mary’s pop.”
“But Mom—”
“No buts. Now, go apologize to her. Take Trisha with you. And by the way, you’re doing the dinner dishes tonight.”
He knows better than to argue. He trudges off after her, hauling his little sister behind him. I can hear him begging her for a bite of her Popsicle. Her way of saying no is to stick the whole thing in her mouth.
Jack puts his arm around my shoulders. “One thing I can say for Trevor, he’s got good taste in women.”
That earns him a kiss from me. “Mary doesn’t understand that I wasn’t showing off. I just didn’t want the children and their friends to get hurt.”
“Why don’t I have a talk with her? Maybe I can give her a man’s perspective on the issue.”
“I’d appreciate it. Thanks for stepping in, Jack.”
“You know what they say, ‘Father knows best.’” His kiss is deeper and longer than mine was to him.
Yes, I melt into it. And yes, I wish it could go on forever.
If only he were really their father.
If only he were really my husband.
Soon, I pray. Very soon.
Chapter 8
Pretty Presents Start with the Packaging
Holiday gifts for neighbors or co-workers don’t have to be expensive. Instead of buying, try making or baking!
A dozen gingerbread cookies, biscotti, deep, dark maple walnut fudge, or a handmade Christmas ornament will be appreciated even more, if its packaging is also pretty and inviting! For example, fill a Mason jar with your goodies, then cover the tin lid with a holiday-themed napkin before twisting it tight. For something with more portability, fold heavy holiday craft paper evenly over the top of goodies in large sandwich bags, staple shut, then decorate with stamps, tinsel, ribbons or bells, and voilà! You have a pretty present!
Very important tip: Nothing says “old-fashioned” better than murder by arsenic, a powdered poison that is undetectable in sweets topped with confectioner’s sugar.
Another very important tip: Wear gloves when creating your packaging, or when packing your gifts. We wouldn’t want to leave fingerprints that would bring the police to our well-lit and beautifully wreathed front door, now would we?
“You are older looking than your online dating photo, Nadia,” General Melmud Massoud Shammam says as he scrutinizes me from top to bottom.
In fact, it’s my bottom that fascinates him the most. To my chagrin, he holds up one of my dating profile pictures in order to compare it to the real thing. “Did you Photoshop your buttocks to look like Pippa Middleton’s? Yes, of course! I see that now! Shame on you, sister, for coveting an infidel’s likeness!” He shakes his index finger at me.
Yeah, okay, busted. It wasn’t my ass. That was Arnie’s idea. I’ll never listen to him again, that’s for sure.
“I should be disappointed, but I am a
He hits me with a high five. “You’re on.”
When my kids finally make up their minds, their choices are predictable. Mary wants a Fudgesicle, whereas Trisha goes for a Dreamsicle, and Jeff can’t make up his mind.
“Oh, hurry up already,” Mary mutters to him.
“Why?” Jeff smirks back. “Is your boyfriend coming over again tonight to tutor you in ‘math?’” He makes kissing sounds as he hugs himself.
“He might.” Mary glances over at me as she tosses her hair from her left side to her right one. It’s a nervous trait. “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing.” Jeff shrugs. “But I would have thought that, by now, you would have gotten tired of him flirting… with Mom .”
Before I can say anything to put a stop to Jeff’s nonsense, Mary rubs her Fudgesicle in Jeff’s face and stalks off.
Jeff licks the tip of his nose. “Not bad! I’ll have another, garcon .”
I put my hands up. “No, Jeff, you won’t. Enjoy what’s left of Mary’s pop.”
“But Mom—”
“No buts. Now, go apologize to her. Take Trisha with you. And by the way, you’re doing the dinner dishes tonight.”
He knows better than to argue. He trudges off after her, hauling his little sister behind him. I can hear him begging her for a bite of her Popsicle. Her way of saying no is to stick the whole thing in her mouth.
Jack puts his arm around my shoulders. “One thing I can say for Trevor, he’s got good taste in women.”
That earns him a kiss from me. “Mary doesn’t understand that I wasn’t showing off. I just didn’t want the children and their friends to get hurt.”
“Why don’t I have a talk with her? Maybe I can give her a man’s perspective on the issue.”
“I’d appreciate it. Thanks for stepping in, Jack.”
“You know what they say, ‘Father knows best.’” His kiss is deeper and longer than mine was to him.
Yes, I melt into it. And yes, I wish it could go on forever.
If only he were really their father.
If only he were really my husband.
Soon, I pray. Very soon.
Chapter 8
Pretty Presents Start with the Packaging
Holiday gifts for neighbors or co-workers don’t have to be expensive. Instead of buying, try making or baking!
A dozen gingerbread cookies, biscotti, deep, dark maple walnut fudge, or a handmade Christmas ornament will be appreciated even more, if its packaging is also pretty and inviting! For example, fill a Mason jar with your goodies, then cover the tin lid with a holiday-themed napkin before twisting it tight. For something with more portability, fold heavy holiday craft paper evenly over the top of goodies in large sandwich bags, staple shut, then decorate with stamps, tinsel, ribbons or bells, and voilà! You have a pretty present!
Very important tip: Nothing says “old-fashioned” better than murder by arsenic, a powdered poison that is undetectable in sweets topped with confectioner’s sugar.
Another very important tip: Wear gloves when creating your packaging, or when packing your gifts. We wouldn’t want to leave fingerprints that would bring the police to our well-lit and beautifully wreathed front door, now would we?
“You are older looking than your online dating photo, Nadia,” General Melmud Massoud Shammam says as he scrutinizes me from top to bottom.
In fact, it’s my bottom that fascinates him the most. To my chagrin, he holds up one of my dating profile pictures in order to compare it to the real thing. “Did you Photoshop your buttocks to look like Pippa Middleton’s? Yes, of course! I see that now! Shame on you, sister, for coveting an infidel’s likeness!” He shakes his index finger at me.
Yeah, okay, busted. It wasn’t my ass. That was Arnie’s idea. I’ll never listen to him again, that’s for sure.
“I should be disappointed, but I am a
Similar Books
