Happy Father’s Day [FICTION]

“I’d love to come over, but my dad just asked for the most complicated cake for Father’s Day.”

Addison sighs on her end of the phone. “Grace…”

“I know I promised, but this will take me all weekend.”

“What kind of cake is it?” 

Inspiration strikes. “Come on over and find out.”

I race into the kitchen, digging through my recipes for a couple of cakes, my favorite fudge brownies, two cheesecakes, and cherry pie. By the time Addison arrives, I have them carefully laid out on the counter. I also have a shopping list that could take me half a day to fill.

~

“Why do you have so many recipe cards out?” Addison looks suspiciously at my selections. “You said he told you what he wanted. Why are you still deciding?”


“Well, he couldn’t exactly decide. Then I saw some videos on social media…”

“Oh. You should never watch those.”

“I know, but now he doesn’t have to decide what type of cake he wants. He just has to find a dozen friends to help him eat the twenty-five pound monstrosity I am going to make.”

“Fine. Tell me about it.”

I describe three layers of delicious— cheesecake in a chocolate cake, cherry pie in a French vanilla cake, and caramel cheesecake in a rich fudge brownie.

“That is insane…”

“And will be insanely delicious…”

“You are going to get the daughter of the year award…”

“I always do.” We grin at each other since I am an only child.

“Think you can sneak me a piece for my dad?”

“Only if you help me with this.”

“We could use my kitchen,” Addison offers.

“Um, no.”

“Come on. You have to make up with Bianca sometime.”

“Nope.”

“He chose you.”

“Yeah, but she still tried to steal him from me.”

She nods and picks up my shopping list. ‘Well, then we better get to work on this so I can finally knock her off her pedestal as best daughter.”

~~

We spend the next two days working on the masterpiece. Each filling needs baked and cooled. Then carefully inserted into a cake and baked again. After more cooling, I realize I forgot to decide on a frosting to hold the layers together. We agree on a mix of fudge and white chocolate fudge frosting.

We apply the final layer and smooth it out. I step back to get a better look.

“I don’t think it is going to hold up…” Addison whispers.

“I was afraid of that, but I have these,” I whisper back as I open the cabinet where I hid blue baker’s boxes. “We are going to slice it and divvy it up. That way my dad will never know I paid you in cake.”

“And my father’s love?”

“I can only hope.” I smile at her.


“Want to come see Bianca’s face?”

“Nope. Take a picture. Today is about our dads. I will worry about your sister on Halloween.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Everyone knows she is a witch.”

~~

As my dad open the pastry box, his eyes widen. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah?” I grin at him.

“This is the best—everything I wanted…”

“So I am still your favorite?”

“Always.” He reached out with his free arm to pull me into a powerful half hug.

“I see you made plenty so I can share with the boys.” He eyes the pile of boxes.

“You know I wouldn’t let you down. Your annual Father’s Day poker tournament goes better with refreshments.”

“Yeah. Though I might not share with the guys trying to up the ante with this year’s tie.” He grins and dips a for into one of the layers of cake.

His eyes roll back in delight as the flavors explode on his tongue.

~~Yes, I realized it as I was typing. There is a deeper story here. I know. I should explore it and expand it. I need to find the time. I should pick my friend’s brain who has finished three novels in a year (among other projects I just learned of today), but I don’t want to stop her flow. Send me PM if you like Jane Austin and I will give you more information.~~

Dad Rules [FICTION]

When I turned sixteen, my dad told me that in order to live life to the fullest, I needed to live by three rules.

1. Do all things with love.

2.  Remember, it can always get better.

3. Nothing except hockey is worth losing teeth over.

I never struggled with the first two, but that third one once proved untenable for me because of a cheeseburger. 

First, you have to know that I was a poor college student at the time. It was my second semester of college. 

Second, on that particular day, I only had enough money to buy a single cheeseburger.

Third, you have to know that the Applebaum Deli made the best cheeseburger that I have ever tasted. I have a feeling that was tied into me being a poor college student, but at the time I would accept no substitutions.

Fourth, that day was probably he roughest of my college career. I learned I failed a test for which I had studied all week. I lost one of my favorite earrings down a sewer grate. Don’t even ask about what brought about that calamity.  

I entered the Applebaum Deli and my day looked up. No one was in line. In fact, I could see the cook peering out the window at the few patrons to see if anyone needed food. His face lit up as he saw me.

“You want the burger, miss?” He turned away before I could answer.

I nodded anyway. The cashier rang up my order and returned to a far table where she was sorting clean silverware. As luck would have it, nature called, so I hurried into the bathroom. Upon my return, I found a skinny young woman sitting at the counter eating a burger with great gusto. I didn’t think much of it until the chef poked his head out of the kitchen window and looked from me to the other girl in confusion. 

The other girl remained oblivious to me, scarfing the burger down like she hadn’t eaten in a week. My own hungry stomach gurgled uncomfortably.

The cook finally spoke, “Did you need something, miss?”

I raised an eyebrow, “I just paid for a burger.”

“Oh?”

He turned disappointed eyes to the girl. She stuffed the last bite in her mouth and looked up at him, smiling with tight lips as she swallowed. She stood up and began backing toward the door.

“Wait a second.” The cook said, stepping out of the kitchen. “You said that she bought that burger for you.”

“She did.” The girl giggled and bolted for the door.

Hunger and disappointment from the day swirled around me and set my weary feet to pursuit. I caught hold of her hair before the door could close between us. She rounded on me. She might have been tiny, skinny, and underfed, but she was strong. She threw a right into my jaw so lethal and precise that I saw stars and released her hair to put both hands to my lip, which was coated in blood.

As I pulled my hand away, I noticed a chip of tooth nestled in my palm. The cook and cashier surrounded me. She took my hand and lowered me into the nearest chair, while he leaned in to peer worriedly into my face. He apologized a million different ways and assured me that he would get right to work on another burger.

“…If you think you can eat it.” He added as he noticed the tiny token in my palm.

My stomach declared its willingness to try, so I ran my tongue along my teeth before responding. “Yes, please.”

As he disappeared into the back, the cashier helped me clean myself up. “Sorry about that. Sometimes, she does manage to talk someone into buying her a meal. We just assumed…”

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have got so angry.”

“They call that hangry.” She smiled at me.

And that is when I realized that I had broke one of the dad rules, but let’s keep that between us.

~~~

This seemed like the perfect offering to help you celebrate Father's Day weekend. I hope you have picked out the perfect tie and the perfect card, perhaps featuring bacon or gas or other manly humor. And if you are a father, I hope you get extra snuggles from your tiny humans this weekend, even if they are now almost as tall or taller than you. Thank goodness for all the awesome dads and the men willing to fill their shoes when they aren't there to counsel us...