“Mom, I have no idea what this is, but can I drink it?” I asked my stomach rumbling again. She laughed.
“No, that’s chicken stock. I was running low, so I figured I would make more. I’m in the middle of making Monte Cristos for the two of us, if you wanna make the side salad, and set the table.”
I rushed to the refrigerator and started to gather various ingredients that I needed for a salad. I figured that faster I made that salad and set the table the faster I could indulge myself in the best sandwich known to man. Theresa only made them when both Tye and my dad were out of the house for the day. There was nothing better than biting into a warm Monte Cristo. It was crispy and gooey at the same time. Theresa made it on Sweet Hawaiian bread, that soaked up the egg batter so when she cooked it on in a cast iron grill pan, it came out the perfect golden brown. I loved the that first bite of the sandwich, the way the slightly sweet crisp outer layer led into the salty smokiness of the ham and the slightly sharp tang of the perfectly aged Swiss that was liberally layered in the middle. The only way to wash it down was with some of my mom’s lemonade.
I snapped out of my food daydream to see my mom looking at me with and odd look on her face. I had stopped in the middle of the kitchen and was staring off into space. I blushed and placed everything down on the counter grabbing the lettuce and opening and closing cabinets and drawers in search of the salad spinner. Finding it, I separated some leaves, and filled the plastic bowl with water, wiping off any excess dirt that I saw. I remember when my mom had insisted on buying the salad spinner on one of her frequent trips to Ikea; my dad had looked at her like she was crazy. ‘What’s wrong with the way we wash lettuce now?’ he had asked. My mom didn’t actually have an answer; she just grabbed one that matched the décor of the kitchen, stuck her tongue out at him and stormed off to the next section, probably already spotting something else that she couldn’t leave without. I smiled at the memory, and patted the leaves dry with some paper towel, and went back to the cutting board to chop the lettuce into bite size pieces. After slicing the tomatoes and cucumbers, onions and carrots, I added some croutons, and shaved parmesan.
Setting the salad and silverware on the table, Theresa set a pitcher of lemonade on the table and went back to get the sandwiches. We dug right in, and started up a light conversation. After a while Theresa set down her fork and let out a sigh.
“Uh-oh” I said, putting my sandwich half down. “I know that sigh.” Theresa cocked an eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes at her, “That’s your ‘there-is-something-that-I-signed-you-up-for-but-didn’t-ask-you-about-it-first-but-I’m-gonna-try-to-get-you-to-do-it-anyway ‘ sigh.” I smiled at her shocked expression, and slightly pink face. “So where are we going, and who are you going there with?” Theresa smiled and shook her head.
“Sometimes it’s unfair how much more observant you are than your brother. Anyway, do you know Keira Faabian? I believe her mother said that she is in your Creative Writing class.” I remembered Keira-who didn’t. To be perfectly honest I thought she was kind of wacky. She had multi-colored hair, and never censored herself. She always voiced her opinion whither it was appropriate to or not. I tried not to grimace, but my mom caught the change in my face. “Now don’t you make that face at me. Besides, I thought we were having girl time weekend.” She made a fake pouty face, and I sighed in defeat.
“Fine, I’ll go but don’t think I’ll be happy about it.” I said.
We finished up our lunch and I helped Theresa clear the table and load the dish washer. As I was ascending the stairs to Theresa leaned over the banister and hollered up
“Wear something that you can change In and out of quickly. You may not want to go now, but I know you’re a sucker for clothes.”
I smiled and closed the door to my room, and walked over to my walk in closet. As much as I didn’t want to spend time with someone who was just going to ignore me anyway, I was excited about the shopping part. Theresa had perfected the art of the changing room. A skirt you could slide in and out of, flip-flops for easy shoe shopping, and a tank top that you can put any top over easily. After shuffling through my drawers and found a white knee length tiered eyelet skirt, a black tank-top, and a pair of black flip-flops. I brushed my hair, twirling the ends of my hair through my fingers to emphasize the natural curls, and giving them a little extra bounce.
“Lina!” Theresa’s voice sounded from downstairs. I took one more look in the mirror, and then rolled my eyes at myself. All this preening was so not necessary. It’s not like anyone was going to look at me anyways. I grabbed my tote bag, throwing my phone and my Bert’s bees before rushing out the room. This was going to be a really long afternoon.
Chapter 3
Depuis le début
