Waiting It Out - Benny Rodriguez - Book 1

Fireworks

Forth of July. One of the best nights of the year. 

The only night of the year we can play baseball. 

Our town likes to hold a firework show and it gives us just enough light to be able to play. We usually don't play that day so we have energy for the night game. 

We only play for like half an hour but it's later in the day to play than we're used to.

It's about 5:00 pm now, 3 hours before the firework show, and I'm in the Rodriguez house kitchen helping Jen come up with some red, white, and blue food or drink to bring to the neighborhood block party barbeque. Since we're in the cul-de-sac it's extra important we bring something and since my dad's never here, people count me as apart of her household.

"What about smoothies. We could do strawberry, vanilla, and blueberry." Jen suggests.

"I think Yeah-Yeah told me his mom's doing smoothies." I tell her.

"Course she is. She always takes our ideas."

"Before we make them. She likes to plan what she's bringing like a month in advance."

"Bitch."

We're always are stuck in this position. We forget to come up with something, then spend the hours before the barbeque trying to figure it out, then struggle to get it ready in time.

"What about like bite sized snacks. We could put a strawberry, a blueberry, and a piece of cheese on a toothpick." she suggests hopefully.

"We did that last year." I say, laying my head down on the counter.

"Hey, ladies. Any luck?" Benny asks coming from his room after his shower.

"You're funny. We still have 3 three hours. We won't figure something out until 30 minutes before." I tell him, not bothering to lift my head.

"Why don't you just make something you usually make for dinner or something, then dye it red, white, and blue." Benny says.

I bring my head up from the counter and make eye contact with Jen. We're both making the same face telling me we also have the same idea.

"Pineapple casserole." We say at the same time, not breaking the eye contact but breaking into smiles.

Me and Jen's pineapple casserole is my favorite food in the history of ever. We came up with it when I was 8 and now we make it every Thanksgiving and Christmas.

"I meant like pasta. You don't need to go through the trouble of making a couple casseroles." Benny says, watching us scrambling around the kitchen to get the ingredients and measuring cups.

I freeze in place, "Go through the trouble? Benny. Benny! This is our pineapple casserole. There's no problem. Plus now we have extra time."

"Not for long. Okay!" Jen says grabbing my shoulders. "How many do you think we should make?"

"Three. One for each color and if we're lucky we'll have leftovers." I respond holding her arms.

This is serious.

"Right. We need to triple the recipe. We only have enough ingredients for one and a half."

"Okay. I'll go to the store, buy the stuff. While I'm gone look for those clear dishes with the American flag pattern we put the red, white, and blue chips and salsa in a few years back."

"Good idea. Make sure to hurry. And take my credit card." she says as she lets go of my shoulders and grabs her purse.

"You don't need to do that. I hav-"