The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

Lisa’s Luscious Lemon Cream

Vet Tech, Pennsylvania

Makes 3 cups

20 minutes

2 Eggs

1 Cup Sugar

1/3 Cup Real Lemon Juice from Concentrate

1 Tbsp. Cornstarch

1/2 Cup Water

1 Tsp. Vanilla Extract

1 Cup (1/2 pint) Whipping Cream – Whipped

In bowl, beat together eggs, 1/2 cup sugar and Real Lemon. In saucepan, combine remaining sugar and cornstarch. Stir in water. Cook and stir until thickened and remove from heat. Gradually beat in egg mixture. Over low heat, cook and stir until slightly thickened. Add vanilla and cool. Fold in whipped cream. Serve with fresh fruit. Refrigerate leftovers.

Very good with pineapple, strawberries, apples, grapes, bananas, and cantaloupe.

Clarissa

“LOOK, MOMMY! IT’S TROY!

Troy’s face graces the Jumbotron as the crowd stands on their feet, screaming their heads off, Dante and I included. It’s been one hell of a football game, and mostly due to Troy’s incredible plays. After being down by seven the whole second quarter, the Rangers came back kicking and screaming after halftime. Troy just scored another touchdown, one of two in the last five minutes, and this one included an impressive thirty-six-yard run that had him diving past the goal line. On the field, Troy’s a force to be reckoned with, and I can see the pride in his son’s eyes due to their association.

Briefly, I entertain the idea of telling Dante the truth about his father. How elated will he be when he finds out it’s Troy? Will he be upset? Will he be angry with me or the both of us? I decide I could never deprive Troy of that moment. It’s one he’ll get to share with his son. When the time is right, and I’m confident, I’ll give it to him.

Dante’s still screaming along with the crowd, his little fists in the air, the look on his face priceless. I pull him to me, hugging him fiercely as he cheers for his father. It’s not a moment I’d ever thought he’d have and emotions run rampant inside of me at the thought that if Troy sticks, I’ll have to share him forever. For so long, it’s just been the two of us, well us and Parker, and now the dynamic is changing. The selfish part of me mourns the loss, but most of me is happy for Dante. For the idea that he’ll finally have two parents and all that entails. A sort of peace washes over me then. I no longer have to shoulder it all alone. Troy is invested, it’s clear. I just have to believe he’s going to make good on all he’s promised. Seconds later, we appear on the Jumbotron, and Dante gives a thumbs up, shouting, “Go TROY!”

“Oh my God, he’s so cute!” Two of the girls next to us compliment while others around us vie for their shot at the camera. It’s no coincidence we’re on the big screen. I know Troy set it up. I’m thankful I put on a full face tonight and curled the hair beneath my toboggan. For the last few hours, I’ve felt a little like my old self, back in my element at a game at my old alma mater. And I know I have Troy to thank for this as my son squeals in my arms.

Our son.

Troy’s made it a point to eat breakfast with Dante every day. I don’t object, loving the stability it brings in their new relationship. This morning when he was running late, I found myself looking out the window to see if he was on his way, tempted to text. It’s happening, he’s become a part of our routine. But this relationship is between a father and his son. And I can’t for one minute let myself slip into believing we’re forming more than a co-parenting relationship. I don’t want to be angry anymore. I don’t want Dante to see the bitter grudge I hold against his father. I’m becoming more relaxed with this new situation, but some part of me is still fearful this could blow up in my face.

“Mommy, that was so fun,” Dante says in a sleepy voice from the backseat.

“You like football?”

“Yes! Troy is my favorite player.”

“He would love to hear you say that. You should tell him.”

“I will. You think he’s coming over tonight?”

“I don’t think so, buddy.”

“Why?”

Because he’s probably going to celebrate with a few beers and a blonde on each knee. “He’s probably really tired.”

“Oh, well, I’ll tell him at breakfast tomorrow.”