They sat down at Wexford Public and the booth was a single on both sides. Just one person per side. Nobody had seen one of those before. Booths are usually for groups, or at least for people who might want to lean back after the pork chop. This one kept everybody upright the whole time. It was fine. It just hadn’t come up before.
The table next to them was close enough that they were basically having dinner with the people sitting there. Kids, parents, the whole thing. At one point a kid came back from outside with a stick. There was no clear plan for the stick. The parents were talking the way people talk when they forget other people can hear them. A guy from the restaurant came over twice to check if everything was okay. Everything was okay. They have a little one at home. They’re used to most of it. Still, it was nice that someone noticed.
They split the lobster mac. It was good. Amy had to return something at American Eagle first, which is how they ended up in that part of town. Date night, but still. They also went to Freedom Farms over the weekend. One of them had never been. The farm had the whole fall thing going—pumpkins, the maze. Corn mazes aren’t a favorite. If Maggie wants to do it, they’ll do it. Otherwise there are other things to do. The farm was nice. They had a good day.
Work has been a lot. A big project got out the door before the holiday code freeze. That’s when the website stops changing so nothing breaks right when people are actually buying things. It took a while to get there. A lot of meetings. A lot of making sure other people were doing their parts. At one point the question came up whether anyone else was going to reach out, and then five more people did. So that answered that. It’s been good to see it land. Nine years at American Eagle now. Longest job so far. The work is different than it used to be. Bigger. The small stuff doesn’t move the ship anymore.
Jay cut his thumb on a sweet potato. He was trying to get a knife out of it instead of using a skewer. Four stitches. Rachel told him he had to stop getting blood on the ceiling. He said he could reach it. They went to the hospital. The numbing shot didn’t really take, but he got through it. He’s got a high pain tolerance, or at least he tolerated that pain. Same thumb he’s cut before. It’s been through some things.
Jay officiated Mia and Haddon’s wedding. They played “How Great Thou Art” and the whole room kind of settled into it. Jay was the only one facing everybody, so he saw Mia put her hand up. He started moving around to get out of the pictures. The best man was in the way, so he had to nudge him over while mouthing the words because he was mic’d. A lot going on at once. Later, when the bridal party was lined up, he asked if anybody had seen Mrs. Smith. Everybody pointed at Haddon’s mom. He pointed at Mia and said, “No, she’s right there.” That got a reaction.
At the rehearsal the coordinator forgot the middle part—the actual wedding. Jay had to step in. Rich tried to correct him on who walks who down the aisle, then remembered Jay’s done a few of these. There was also some confusion about the second row of seats. The coordinator said it was for family. Jay asked which family. She didn’t know. He just walked away from it.
People are in the middle of things. Lindsay is getting ready to move forward with Young Life Capernaum, the ministry for kids with special needs. It’s been a minute since that one got off the ground. Kelly is building herself up for a mission trip. She’s nervous. Jay has been texting people on their birthdays, telling them he hopes they see themselves the way God does. He wishes Kelly could see herself the way he sees her.
Tim Toy is planning an all-star volleyball event. His wife, Ellen, coached at Kiski Area and passed from breast cancer. He and Jay are in that club nobody wants to be in. Tim is more outspoken about politics than Jay is. They still get along. Tim’s foundation helped one of the Penn Hills girls play club volleyball last year. Rounding up high school players and coaches is like herding cats, he said, but it always works out.
Dan Leppold is publishing the second Ray the Kitten book. Ray and her brother Ollie go to Cape May and deal with ocean pollution. Ollie’s missing a leg. Dan is also building a to-scale Cape May lifeguard stand. Most people ask why. He says they should be asking themselves why they haven’t built one already. He’s working on the tummy fat too. Suggested bigger shirts, like Peyton Manning. Every day he’s trying to be a better version of himself—for his kids, the animals on the farm, former students.
Somebody asked what home-cooked dinner from childhood never shows up anymore. The answers came in fast. Tuna noodle casserole. Hamloaf. Hamburger Helper. City chicken—pork shoulder on a stick, breaded and baked. Shake and Bake. Chicken à la king. Liver and onions. One guy said veal balls with cream sauce over egg noodles. That’s the one that stuck. Another said slumgullion: ground beef, mashed potatoes, and baked beans. You could mix it or eat it separate. Both ways worked.
Aunt Shirley still has chicken livers in the freezer. She used to fry them for breakfast. Jay’s dad would wrap them in bacon. Jay tried one once when he was twelve. The middle just kind of disappeared. He said he’d try it again. He’s that way.
People still make a lot of these things. Just not as often. Or they make the updated version. A bougie Hamburger Helper went to the parents the other night. Mom used to call the plain version glop—shells, tomatoes, ground beef. She still makes hamloaf. The brother likes it. It wasn’t a favorite as a kid. It’s fine now.
The comments kept coming. City chicken from a couple people. Chop suey. Chipped ham barbecue. Somebody in New Jersey still does the chipped ham with Isaly’s sauce. That one showed up at every church event growing up. Dad used to charcoal it. It got a little bitter.
They made it through another week. Everybody’s got something. The code freeze is coming. The lifeguard stand is getting built. The veal balls are still out there if anyone wants them.
