The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(64)

“I’ll help.”

Clarissa shakes her head. “You sit.”

“I wasn’t raised that way.”

“Yeah, well,” she says, snagging the glasses from my hands, “no one else in this house today ran a thirty-five-yard touchdown and slam dunked a ball through the goal post.”

“You saw that, huh?”

She smiles. “So did Dante. Pretty awesome.”

“Did you tell your good neighbor you dumped Mr. Tighty Whities?” Parker bellows from the table just as Clarissa snatches her mug away.

“No more eggnog for you.”

Clarissa nervously darts her gaze away from the question in my eyes as Dante comes running back to the table with his book.

“I’ll read it to Troy, Mommy!”

“Oh, yeah,” she taps his nose. “I forgot you can read.”

“Duh.” Dante slaps his forehead. “Oh, poop. I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to say that no more.”

“Anymore. You aren’t supposed to say that anymore. I’ll let it slide this once,” Clarissa says breezily, and I know it has everything to do with the help of Captain Morgan and the carb coma we’re all succumbing to. Sink filling, she pushes up her sleeves, glancing over at me while I study the book. “It’s a set I got him last year. One book for every day before Christmas. He’s doing great with his vocabulary and comprehension, but we’re working on his—”

“Tenses, I know.”

We share a smile just as Parker’s starts sputtering out porn music.

“Parker!” Clarissa hisses as I scoop up Dante and hang him over my shoulder.

“Let’s go, bud, before things turn ugly in here.” Dante giggles as he’s forced to give them both dangling kisses goodnight.

“Good night, Auntie Parker.”

“Night, Duckie.”

“Make sure you brush your teeth,” Clarissa calls after us, and I give her a wink.

“I’ve got this.”

She gives me a shy smile. “I know you do.”





Carol’s Goulash

Church Secretary, New Jersey



Makes 8–10 servings





1 hour


2 Lbs. Hamburger

1 Large Onion – Chopped

Garlic Powder – To taste

Salt – To Taste

Pepper – To Taste





2 Cans Rotel


7 8 Oz. Cans Tomato Sauce

7 8 Oz. Cans Water

1 Large Can Corn





3 Cups Macaroni


Brown hamburger meat, onion, salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Drain. Add Rotel, tomato sauce, water, and corn. Bring to boil. Add macaroni. Cook 12 to 15 minutes or until macaroni is tender.





Clarissa



Troy returns to the living room as I light the last candle.

“Wow, it looks amazing in here.”

“Nothing better than having a real tree in your house.” I stand back as he admires it with me.

“It’s awesome.”

“Yeah,” I turn to him and look him over. I can see the fatigue in his posture. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” he says. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this. Just being with him makes me feel better. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Where’s Parker?”

“Her Ambien kicked in. She’s snoring it off in my bed.”

“I guess I’ll go.”

“Are you tired?”

“Not too much, why?”

“Because I have something for you.”

One side of his mouth lifts. “Do you?”

“Yeah, an early Christmas present.” I take a seat on the couch and pat the cushion next to me. He takes his place as I cue up my phone, hitting the mirror option before throwing the first video on my TV. In seconds, a six-month-old Dante is on-screen wiggling on the floor in an attempt to crawl. Troy’s face lights up in recognition. “So, he wasn’t exactly a crawler, he more or less dragged himself around by his arms.”

Troy chuckles. “I see.”

“He, uh, well, he might have had a hard time crawling, but when it was time to walk, it was like chasing lightning. I’m thinking he got that from his father.”

Pride fills his eyes as he watches rapt, a smile gracing his lips. When the video ends, he looks over to me.

“Got any more?”

“Hundreds.”

“Let’s see them.”





Troy tosses a piece of popcorn in his mouth and damn near chokes on it watching Dante’s first attempt at jailbreak.

“Oh, my God,” he chuckles. “How old was he here?”

“Thirteen months. Can you believe that?” I watch as Dante stacks his blanket and his animals so he has just enough room to pull himself up and over.

“Rewind that, would you?”

I nod and play it again.

“Oh, this is fucking epic,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.

“He was so damned cute.”

“Yeah, he was. What was that baseball outfit you dressed him in all the time?”