Whoever is closest to the number Aaron wrote down gets the final fritter. I don’t particularly want two fritters, let alone three, so I reluctantly take a pen from the center of the table and curve my free hand around my paper, covering the entire thing with my hair so no one can see what I’m writing down. I bump Aaron’s arm and mutter an apology.
I give him a furtive glance as I flip my paper over and cover it with my hand.
“You’re a lefty?” He nods to the pen still poised in my hand.
“Yup.”
“Okay, show me what you got!” Dillion says.
Dillion, Jack, Uncle John, and I flip our papers over. Dillion has number thirty-three, her dad has fifty, Uncle John has seventy-five, and I have one. Van flips the one Aaron passed him and reveals ninety-nine. I sigh in relief, because I did not want the extra one, but I didn’t think I’d be able to get out of participating.
I expect everyone to finally dig in, but instead, Dillion uses a pair of tongs to dole out the fritters, setting two on each plate except for the one for Uncle John, who gets three.
When they’re all plated, the guys lunge across the table for them, snatching them up like unfed hyenas. The room is suddenly filled with groans and chewing.
I sit there, looking around the table as these men and Dillion devour the fritters. I can’t help myself. I glance at Aaron and nearly choke on a laugh. He’s melted into his chair, head lolling back, cheeks puffed out because his mouth is full, groaning every time he chews.
“Jeez. You look like you just had a freaking orgasm,” I say without thinking.
His head lolls in my direction, and he lifts his hand in front of his mouth, since he’s still chewing and apparently he does have some manners. “It’s like an orgasm for your taste buds.”
Van nudges my arm and pushes the paper plate toward me. “You have to at least try one.”
I’ve spent my entire life telling people that I don’t like sweets or dessert. It’s untrue. I love sweets and dessert. I make them all the time. For other people. But I don’t eat them, because sugar is very addictive, and I already have enough vices, so I try to avoid it unless it’s in the form of an energy drink.
But everyone looks so happy.
And the fritters smell so good.
One little bite won’t hurt.
Unlike the others, who are busy stuffing them into their mouths with their fingers, I cut mine with a knife and spear the chunk with my fork. I pop it into my mouth and let the flavors hit my tongue.
First is the sugar and cinnamon, followed by the sour tang of lemon. Then the crunch of the fried dough, delicious and savory, followed by the soft, hot apple ring that fills the center. “Oh, wow. This is really good.”
“It’s better than good. It’s the best damn thing in the world.”
“Heaven better have Boones’s fritters, or I’m going to haunt that place for the rest of eternity,” says Uncle John.
I finish one of the fritters in the time that the others eat both of theirs and polish off their lunch. I pick at my salad for a few minutes, then pack it up so I can take it back to the apartment. Then I offer my second fritter to the rest of the table. Dillion has to cut it into five pieces so everyone gets their fair share.
I already spoke to Van last night, so he knows how the discussion went with our dad, but I haven’t talked to him about the furniture that’s currently sitting in the bed of the truck. I’m crossing my fingers that I’m right and no one will steal it while I happen to be out.
“I’m going to need some help getting a couple of pieces of furniture up to the loft when you get home,” I tell Van as I help clean up the table.
“Big stuff or small stuff?”
“A couch and a chair. But that’s it.”
“Aaron, you think you can give me a hand with those at the end of the day?”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I can probably help you get them up there.”
Aaron acts like I haven’t said a word. “I can do that. I need to take a few measurements for the trim.”
“See, we’ve got it all sorted out. You’ll have a couch to hang out on before the end of the day.”
Everyone goes back to work after lunch, leaving me on my own to explore the downtown area, and eventually I make my way to the south side beach. Dillion and Van have taken on the project of cleaning up the town beach. There are two beaches on the lake, the other one on the side with all the big mansions. It’s beautiful and pristine, with white sand, lifeguards, and a marina.