Page 90 of The Falcon and the Foe

This guy. He was the kid who always did the extra credit in school but never broke himself of the habit as an adult.

“This is the fanciest sleepover I’ve ever heard of.”

“We were going to order pizza, but I had ingredients to make dough.”

“So you just whipped up a homemade pizza like Meryl Streep as Julia Child?”

“Your friends are right. You will use any excuse to bring up Meryl Streep.” Russ let out a warm laugh that I wanted to wrap around my body.

My stomach had further commentary, this time loud enough for Russ to hear.

“Sounds like you want some.”

“I’ll stick with my frozen pizza from the grocery store.”

“Are you sure? I’m making plenty.” Russ looked behind him at the kitchen. “And I guarantee it’s better than whatever pizza you’re getting. No disrespect to Little Caesars.”

I was afraid to add to Josh’s confusion—and my own. Russ and I were rediscovering our wild sides. We weren’t looking for anything more.

“Sure.” I told myself one slice only.

* * *

It wasthe best meal I’d ever had. And we hadn’t even sat down yet to eat.

Russ had a large open kitchen with an expansive island in the center around which we congregated for a pizza assembly line. The boys painted on garlicky marinara sauce to the multiple pizza doughs Russ had rolled out, and I grated the cheese. Russ declared that he would handle the toppings, which made me giggle.

After much negotiation, we settled on one veggie pizza with green peppers and mushrooms and one pepperoni pizza. We laughed, we sang the boys’ class cheer, I teased Russ for being too sparing with the toppings. To anyone walking past, they’d look in the window and see a house overflowing with warmth and joy as if we were an ad campaign to lure LGBTQ+ disposable income.

“Dad, how come grateful and grating cheese are spelled the same way?” Quentin asked as he watched me mash a block of hard mozzarella into the grater.

“That’s a good question.” Russ sauteed mushrooms nearby.

“I thought parents didn’t have to answer questions like these once their kids learned how to use Google,” I said.

“Maybe we’re all grateful for cheese because it’s wonderful,” Russ said.

“Unless you’re lactose intolerant,” Josh said. “Or Vegan.”

“Did you know that they actually make shredded cheese?” I sniped as trickles of sweat beaded at my forehead.

“Pre-shredded cheese? Cal, you should know me well enough.”

Sigh, he never cut corners. It was equal parts annoying and admirable.

“One time, a pizza fell on dad’s head.” Quentin squirmed in his stool with laughter.

“Whaaaaaat?” I asked, images flying in my head.

“It was nothing.” Red crept up Russ’s neck, which made me even more curious. “It was an accident.”

“I have to hear this story.” I leaned next to Quentin and Josh and rested my chin in my hands like we were gals gossiping at a sleepover...which I guess we were.

“You’re grating,” Russ said.

“No, I finished the mozzarella block.”

“I wasn’t talking about the cheese.”

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