The Truth About Twinkie Pie Part 4

Pimento Cheese * 3 cups finely shredded EZ Cheeze brand cheddar * 2 ounces softened cream cheese * 3 tablespoons jarred diced pimentos * 4 tablespoons mayonnaise * 3 shakes of hot sauce * Best white bread in town * Your favorite potato chips Now, everyone has her own ideas about pimento cheese. Like my good friend Amanda, who just about snorts at this recipe and insists that all a body needs is cheddar, mayo, and a couple little specks of pimento. Well, I say to each her own, but anyone who's had my version L, O, V, E loves it.

Put the first 5 ingredients in a nice bowl and work them over with a big wooden spoon till they're mixed together, but still nice and chunky. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it sit in the fridge overnight. I am serious. These things take time.

The next day, take the bowl out, and please do not tell me I have to explain how to make a sandwich.

Just spread that cheese on a piece of bread and then pile on chips and top it with another slice.

And don't forget to serve it with a nice pickle.

Also good with crackers or in grilled cheese sandwiches.

Makes 3 cups. Keeps for up to one week in the fridge.

nine.

Almost all the kids got picked up by their moms after school. I guess so they could go to their harp lessons or stock market cla.s.ses or whatever. But not me-I walked. Because, like DiDi says over and over and over again, we live in a Walking Town.

Today, though, instead of heading right back to the apartment, I walked to my new job. DiDi had signed me up as a Middle School Library Volunteer. The best part was that afterward, she said, I could stop by the salon, and if she wasn't done yet, I could wait for her a little and watch her talk to people and work. As long as I brought my homework, it should be fine-just this once. It being the first day of school and a special occasion.

When I got to the library, Miss Homer was at the desk on the kids' floor. She also took s.h.i.+fts as a lunch monitor at the cafeteria. Now, the librarians back at my old school were a ton of fun. They were young and funky and thought it was hilarious that I spent more time in the nonfiction section of the library than looking at novels and such. They used to talk a lot about this band they were in that did punk rock versions of these old Sat.u.r.day-morning cartoon songs about learning and stuff.

Miss Homer didn't exactly seem like the punk rock type. She was dressed in mousy, mousy brown from head to toe, and I'd like to describe her face, but I hadn't seen it yet because her entire head was shoved in a book. Usually, I'd say that made sense for a librarian, except on the cover of this book was a man with long hair blowing in the wind, and he was hugging this lady in a flowy white dress who looked like she was going to up and faint.

"Miss Homer? Hi. I'm G-"

Darn it.

"I-I mean I'm Leia Barnes. Your new volunteer."

Whatever Long-Haired Man and Fainting Lady were up to must have been something else, because Miss Homer stayed glued to that page. "Collect books from the cart. Straighten the toy area." Page turn. "Then Pre-K Storytime. Read something good. Schedule's on the corkboard."

"Um, sure. Thank you, Miss Homer."

It was pretty easy. I picked out a couple of picture books, and boy, those kids just giggled and hugged me and rolled around like life was nothing but a breeze. The moms kept saying how I was adorable with my accent, and a few asked me if I ever did any babysitting. I said sure, I'd been babysitting for years.

Which was kind of true. See, even after DiDi and I got our own place, Lori used to show up in the middle of the night back when she was still drinking-stumbling in, smelling like some kind of fruity c.o.c.ktail. Mumbling how I was a good girl and she loved me. No matter what time it was, I'd take care of her. Made sure she cleaned up. Got her into bed. Brought her water and an aspirin and set them on the sofa table so she'd see them when she woke up. I used to ask DiDi why Lori didn't come around more often, and she said some people can be there for you all the time and others can't. Just enjoy her while she was around.

When I was done with my volunteer time, I took numbers from all the moms who wanted me to babysit, filled out my little volunteer time card, and left it with Miss Homer. You can guess how excited she was to talk to me again. Page turn. She probably had no idea what I even looked like. But three seconds later, Miss Homer was the last thing on my mind.

As I picked up my backpack, a perfectly folded little KOB fell out with handwriting I'd never seen before.

Wait till you get home to read.

No-Peek Chicken

* 2 tablespoons b.u.t.ter * 8 chicken thighs (2 to 3 pounds) * 1 teaspoon celery salt * salt and pepper * 1 large onion, diced (about 2 cups) * 5 stalks of celery, diced (about 1 cup) * 2 cups medium-grain rice * 3 cups chicken broth There is nothing I look forward to more than fall comfort food, and I can't think of a better comfort food than chicken and rice. Now, this is how I've been making mine forever.

First, salt and pepper both sides of your chicken thighs and sprinkle the skins with the celery salt. Put your b.u.t.ter in a deep 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat. Add your chicken thighs, browning them skin side up for 5 minutes and then skin side down for 5 more minutes, or until every inch of that skin is golden brown. This is what makes the deep flavor. Add the diced onion and celery to that b.u.t.tery, chicken-y goodness in the s.p.a.ces between your chicken pieces, and cook for 5 more minutes, keeping your chicken skin side down. Do not stir. Scatter your rice over top, and then add your broth and turn the heat up to high till everything comes to a boil. Lower to medium, put on a tight-fitting lid, and NO PEEKING for 25 minutes.

After 25 minutes, take off the lid and raise the heat back up to medium-high for 8 minutes. This will crisp up the chicken skin under all that savory rice and make your kitchen smell like heaven. It's okay if the bottom of your rice gets a little golden and crispy, too. That's my favorite part. Just stir it all in and serve.

Now, who wouldn't look forward to that?

Serves 68.

ten.

I think I made that walk back in record time.

Our new little town is what DiDi calls All About the Charm. Which means if you want to buy fancy soap, gourmet jelly, or a big perfume-y candle in a store that looks like it's from an old-fas.h.i.+oned movie, you've come to the right place. But anything practical, like toilet paper or detergent, you have to hop a bus to Super Saver the next town over.

DiDi's salon is on Main Street. It has these huge windows in the front with curly black letters that say SALON DE JEAN RENe painted on them. She said the receptionist was named Clarisse and I should just go ahead in, be the polite southern girl she raised me to be, and introduce myself.

Of course, I was still wearing my uniform when I walked in, but Clarisse greeted me like I was in a mink coat and diamonds. Like she couldn't believe her luck that a real live human seventh grader had just walked in the door.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Salon de Jean Rene! How may I help you?"

Recipe for Success. I smiled and looked her right in the eyes.

"h.e.l.lo, are you Miss Clarisse? It's nice to meet you, I'm G-"

Darn it.

"G?" She said. "G! Why, of course! GiGi! Wonderful to meet you. DiDi said you'd be stopping in. She's with a client now, but please go on in and pour yourself a cup of coffee or lemonade, and we have these lovely chocolate chip cookies in the waiting area. Just relax on the divan; she'll be with you in a moment."

"Thank you, Miss Clarisse, wonderful to meet you, too."

I headed for something that looked like a sofa to me but I guess was a divan. I sat down and carefully unzipped my backpack halfway. I reached in and touched the perfect little KOB. It had to be from Trip. Who else could have given it to me? I had already opened DiDi's thrilling KOB that said, Here's to another straight-A year! You can do it! Just remember what's important!

I peeked over at DiDi. She looked pretty busy, but I knew better than to offer to help, knowing how fussy she is about me even setting a toe in her work area. I quickly pulled out a work sheet and pencil and started my homework before she looked over. Every once in a while, I gave Trip's KOB a little pat.

When she was finished, DiDi introduced me around. There were a bunch of super-nice ladies and Shane, this man who could give DiDi's Beautiful Gay Best Friend, Harley, a run for his money. Jean, the owner, came over and kissed my hand. There were a few other people, but we just waved at them while DiDi pointed to me and called out, "This is my brilliant little sister, G"-I glared at her-"I mean-uh-Leia!"

She headed out the door with me, pulling on her sweater and apologizing. "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! But honestly, GiGi-dang, I mean Your Royal Highness Princess Earm.u.f.fs-how am I supposed to change what's been stuck in my head for the last twelve years?"

"Just please, please try," I said.

"Fine, I'll try. Now hus.h.!.+ We're on full Kenneth Alert."

We walked three steps to the entrance of our apartment. DiDi closed the door softly behind her. We had made it all the way to the top step when creeeak!-and just like that, Kenneth's door flew open.

"Hi, Kenneth. Fancy meeting you here," said DiDi with a sigh.

I gave him a little wave. I feel sorry for poor old ponytailed Kenneth, so I always make sure I'm nice to him. He's just awkward and smitten with DiDi like everyone else on the planet.

Kenneth shuffled his feet. "Um..."

"Well, will you look at the time? Nice chatting, Kenneth! See you."

When we were safe inside, she looked at me and crossed her eyes. I felt bad, but I couldn't help laughing. Then she asked about my first day, and I told her about school and cla.s.ses, and, oh, I met a boy.

"A boy? You met a boy? What boy? Which boy? Where? When? Why?"

"Grammatical much, DiDi? Geez, calm down," I said. "No one's getting married or anything. I just met a boy. If you're going to get all technical about it, I met about a hundred boys-and girls, too. So no big deal. Did you ever hear of something called Making Friends? Most big sisters are happy when their little sisters do it."

"Okay. Fine. Calm yourself," DiDi said. "You met some nice girls? Why don't you tell me about them? Do they get good grades?"

Typical DiDi.

"Sure, I can tell you about the nice girls. Do you want to hear about the nice Chinese girl who already hates me and called me a big fake at lunch?"

"Wait! What? Who hates you?"

"ARGH! Never mind! It's no big deal. I can handle it. I did handle it."

DiDi took a deep breath. "Okay, Double G-sorry, I mean LEIA. I did not mean to make you feel like you can't have friends. Of course you can have friends. Girls and-if you have to-boys, too. I just don't want you to get distracted, okay? We have a plan, remember. There is no way I'm letting you end up cutting hair like me."

"Yeah, working in a beautiful place and helping people look good and feel better about themselves all day? Fate worse than death, D."

"Stop it, G, you know what I mean."

"I know, I know."

"And about that girl calling you fake? You just put that out of your mind. Remember: When people call you names, they're saying more about themselves than they are about you."

More wisdom from the great DiDi.

"Just forget it, D."

"Okay. It's forgotten. Get out your books. But about that boy-"

"DiDi-geez! I told you, it's no big deal."

No, meeting Trip wasn't a big deal.

It was a huge deal.

eleven.

I went straight to my room to start homework.

At least that's what I told DiDi.

What I really did was lock the door and then pull out the KOB. Wait till you get home to read. I'd kept my promise.

I opened it.

Did you wait till you got home? Haha. Just kidding. I just wanted to say I'm sorry if lunch was weird. I'm glad you moved here. I really, really like you and liked talking. See you tomorrow, T I traced over the words with their perfectly dotted i's and neat little o's. A boy sent me a KOB. And not just any boy. Trip. The most beautiful, sweetest boy ever. He went to all the trouble to make it for me and then slip it into my backpack. He said really two times. He really, really liked me. And he was glad I moved here. At that very second, so was I.

So was I.

I've kind of just always done whatever DiDi asked me to, so when she said we were moving, I started packing. Leaving the South was a big deal for DiDi. She had it in her head that unless she got me out of that trailer park, I wouldn't have a future. It didn't matter to her that I was happy there and that we had the nicest neighbors, who all looked out for each other.

"The North Sh.o.r.e," she said, eyes all s.h.i.+ny and bright. "That's on Long Island, New York, G. Remember Lori's boyfriend who sold supplies to all the schools? He said New York is where the best schools in the country are, and-c'mon!-we could be living on an island! Beaches and boats and water."

There were plenty of beaches in South Carolina. All you had to do was hop in the car, so I don't think that was the big deal. And of all the places we could go, I didn't get why DiDi would pick somewhere called the North Sh.o.r.e, which, if you ask me, sounded like it'd be the exact opposite of the South.

Oh, she talked a big talk about moving, but moving takes money, and that was one thing we never seemed to have enough of.

Then DiDi heard about the Mayflower Bake-Off.

It's this nationwide contest where you have to come up with a recipe that uses products in the Mayflower family. Which is just a ton of stuff like refrigerator biscuits, cake mixes, and such. It's a pretty big deal and they have all these categories to enter. Then they pick a Grand Prize, and the winner gets one million dollars. I swear. DiDi decided to go for the Dinner Delights category and then she went straight into Mama's Cookbook "for research."

I thought she should make something like a beautiful dessert or hors d'oeuvre (which is just a fancy word for appetizer). But DiDi said this contest was going to change our lives and she wanted to go with something special.