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Barbecue’d ribs and skewered teens
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With the new open layout, the big living area, and the amazing new dining room, the house had a completely different feel to it. It had always seemed cozy, if not cramped, when we had guests over, but with eight adults we actually had room to spare.
Debbie had a spectacular dinner lined up for us. She presented me with a pile of ribs: baby-back, spare ribs, and beef chuck short ribs, ready for grilling. I had to hand it to my platinum tressed stunner; she had the butcher eating out of her hand. She could get almost any cut she wanted, trimmed to her liking. Our version of beef ribs was cross-cut, extra meaty, and similar to the Argentine Tira de Asado. The baby back ribs and spare ribs already had the membrane removed and were trimmed to perfection. She had pre-cooked them, in pans with an inch or so of liquid, and wrapped tightly in foil, so it wouldn’t take hours on the grill to tenderize them. They were nearly done after a couple of hours, with only the final touches to be applied on the grill.
I was kind of lonely at first, prepping the grill, getting the coals going, soaking the hickory chips (we use scotch for the soaking, old family secret), and scrubbing down the grill surface, while the soound of raucous laughter in the house drifted my way. Jim showed up after a bit, and we talked about his opening up his house to Karen and Robin part-time. He seemed almost embarrassed to be taking her away from us, and insisted he had no problem with Karen and me continuing our relationship.
“Jim, I think it’s great. You guys make a great team. Seems kind of Yin-and-Yang to me, but it seems to work for y’all. How are you about having a 6 year old under the roof?”
“Truth is I’m looking forward to it. Your house is so wild and out of control, but at my place, well, it’s different. It’s more like a home than a harem. We can just relax after work, watch our shows, and we might not even talk for hours, and still everything’s cool.”
“You almost had me believing you there, until you tried that not-talking-for-an-hour BS. I don’t think Karen’s ever been quiet for 10 minutes,” I teased him.
“WE don’t talk for an hour, or more. Of course she spends most of that time on the phone chatting up her friends pretty much every night. She just loves to sit out in the carport with a beer, and a phone, and gab, gab, gab.”
“Alright, now I believe you,” I laughed. “Anyway, listen, if you guys want to be monogamous, just say the word, I’ll back out of the picture.”
He looked almost embarrassed. “For now the deal is, as long as Robin is on the menu, so are you, and your whole house for that matter. I’ll be honest, that works for me. Robin in small doses is a dream come true. I figure if she wants to spend most of her college weekends with us, I’m all for it. And even though things started out weird, the sisters seem to have worked things out, in the best way imaginable. When both girls are over now, I just get free reign, to do what I want, with whoever I want, however I want. It’s fucking amazing. What a difference a few days make.”
While we chatted I had managed to get my home-made half-barrel grill completely covered with ribs, grouped across the surface. It looked like an almost stupidly large amount, but experience showed that it’s almost impossible to make too many ribs. Dry rub applied, for the first 1/2 hour, with frequent dousing, and spraying them down with apple juice would have them ready for the final leg.
I gave Jim a high-five, and wished him the best of luck, promising to help over the weekend to get Karen’s stuff moved over. Memories of our last effort to get her moved made me smile. On his way back to the house I asked him to send someone out with a refill for me.
Amie showed up a few minutes later, Guinness in hand. She passed me the beer, and gave me a hug. “How’s the grilling going?” Even after the hug, she managed to keep one of my arms around her, as she leaned into me. She was looking sweet. She’d already dressed down into shorts and a t-shirt.
“Let me guess, borrowed from Robin?” I asked, tugging at her t-shirt. “I taught your boyfriend that thing you like?”
She giggled. “Yeah, I think it almost gave dad a seizure.”
I smiled, and got back to the subject of dinner. “It’s getting there. It’ll still be a late dinner; I figure another hour or so of slow cooking before I’m ready at this end.”
She seemed to be working herself up to something. I just waited patiently, taking a draw on my beer. We had a bench out back; it was in pretty rough shape, but it was all that we had, and I drew her along with me to have a seat, while I oversaw the grilling.
“It looks like you might have an opening upstairs, with Karen moving out. Do you think it might be possible for me to move in?” she finally asked.
Even before I could answer, she was spouting a litany of reasons. “You know I’m renting a room right now. I’m on month-to-month, and can move out anytime. I really don’t want to move home right now, for a lot of reasons, but my current place is over twenty minutes from here in traffic. I won’t have to worry about keeping changes of clothing here, or borrowing clothes for the times when I stay late. Once we start the daycare, I’d hate to get up that much earlier every morning, and burn an hour of my day commuting back and forth, and I love being with y’all so much.”
She finally took a breath, and then jumped right back in. “I promise I won’t be in your hair all the time. I don’t need to have a deal like Beth and Debbie. I understand they’re special to you, but I’d still like to be with you guys when you want. I swear I’ll be the perfect roommate.” She leaned in for the hard sell, cuddling in close, and placing her hand on my thigh. “You know I get along with the girls, and I’d be happy to be your boy-toy, even if things with Eric and I move ahead. I love the way you make me feel. You’ll love the way I make you feel, I promise.”