Love on the Half-Shell

By Elvy Howard

Three parts love, two parts grit, the perfect recipe for making a family. Rae Green believes in the power of a good recipe, not only in the kitchen but in life as well. She invests in preparation, hard work, and independence - until the night a stranger calls to ask if she is willing to take custody of he

• Language: English
• Publisher: BenJess Productions
• Release date: Nov 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781957104089

Book preview

Crap Cake

I still have my mother's recipe card with the racy title, Better than Sex Cake, printed in her thin scrawl. I began making this in high school, mostly for pajama parties, and it became one of the dependable stars of my summer catering business, allowing me to finish college. When my nieces moved in, I made it almost weekly, renaming it Better than Anything Cake Poisonous ingredients like high-fructose corn syrup and trans-fat meant nothing by then. I'd have done anything to get them to behave. But, secretly, I called it what it was:

---

Use a 9 x 12 rectangular pan, either metal or glass, greased with butter on the sides and bottom.

You’ll need a wooden or metal skewer or straw

---

Ingredients:

One box chocolate cake mix, any type: German, fudge, devil's food

One 10 oz. jar caramel ice-cream topping

One 10 oz. jar fudge ice-cream topping

One can sweetened condensed milk

One plastic container of frozen, whipped-cream style topping

small jar of maraschino cherries, optional

---

Directions:

Make cake according to package directions and pour batter into rectangular cake pan. Bake according to package directions, and when done and still hot, poke holes over top of the cake with a skewer or a straw, approximately 1" apart. Pour over warm cake the can of condensed milk and half of each jar of ice-cream toppings. Wrap pan with foil and let toppings soak in for a couple of hours or overnight. If refrigerated, allow to warm to room temperature before serving. Plate squares of cake with a dollop of thawed whipped topping and, with the remaining fudge and caramel, stripe the cut cake and plate. Top with a cherry.

Chapter 1

September

One night, while in the deepest part of sleep, a phone rang, and two girls fell into my life like giant bombs from thin air. A frantic drive and a few hours later, I arrived at my sister's house and went through the open front door.

When last seen, my youngest niece was a crawling, drooling baby. The four-year-old she'd become was sprawled asleep on my sister's couch and stopped my breath. Melissa's head angled to the floor, and long blonde hair cascaded over the couch's faded fabric. A silent, sad memory of a bald baby and a toothless grin washed through me. The child's perfect pink lips had a thumb inserted dead-center. She looked more like a model on the cover of American Child Magazine than a kid whose mom was locked up that rain-filled night.

I was, apparently, invisible to others in that dim room of my sister's house, indistinguishable from people, mostly in uniforms of some kind, shouting questions to co-workers or chatting in twos or threes. They probably assumed I was another social worker in jeans, sneakers, and a trench coat.

Laughter came from the brightly lit kitchen. I was grateful for my invisibility while creeping closer to the sleeping child, bending over and desperately trying to find something familiar, something to make her less of a stranger. But there was nothing except for a captivatingly beautiful little girl who I knew not at all.

A woman, probably the one who'd called from Family and Children's Services, snored in an over-stuffed chair nearby. I straightened and looked at her. She'd introduced herself as Mona Stumples. I couldn't think of anything worse than being called Mona Stumples, except, perhaps, being me right then.

Straightening, wet and cold seeped through my coat to my shoulders. Mona told me she'd wait at the scene until I arrived. That's what she'd called it, the scene. Scanning the room, I attempted to piece together some memory of the house.

The furniture I remembered, having grown up with them. They were more dilapidated than before, but I would've recognized the couch, chairs, side tables, and battered coffee table anywhere. Thankfully, the lamps were okay, but so many things were broken, with toys trampled and ground into the stained carpeting—clothes, books, full ashtrays, glasses, and dishes with dried-up food littered the room. I wondered how much of the mess was from my sister's arrest and how much was the way they'd lived, but then decided I didn't want to know.

It had always been a sad house. Nothing had changed: it was only a more visibly wretched place than before. A sense of deep sorrow penetrated with the damp going down my back.

I shook my head, wondering how Melissa and Mona slept as men in hard shoes clomped by, but they didn't hear those sounds or see lights from police cars flashing colors on the walls. I sighed and looked back at my niece. My heart broke for her. She had no memory of me. An absolute stranger would soon take her from the only place she'd ever lived. I silently cursed my sister for creating another nightmare for anyone so young.

An urge to bolt hit like a freight train. What in the hell were they thinking? I was a thirty-five-year-old divorced woman who'd never cared for as much as a goldfish. I should walk out the front door as calmly as I walked in, get in my car, and drive away. I'd be entirely within my rights. I'd warned Vance County about my sister, and this is what they’d let happen. Why involve me after the damage was done? Let Vance County take care of its own problems.

But somewhere in the house was another niece, an older one much tougher to abandon. She held me hostage as I stood beside my mother's old couch.

The mostly male uniforms continued focusing on their various tasks. A guy on a cell phone nodded and gave me a sympathetic smile as he walked by. I smiled back. Roars of laughter emerged from the kitchen. Loud, soft, then loud again. The scent of coffee drifted in.

I understood the reason I blended in. It wasn't my clothes, but my attitude. I'd worked in Justice since before graduating from college. People from the outside were usually easy to spot. They'd arrive at a scene crying and acquiescing or snarling and cursing at someone with authority to lock them up. I'd witnessed it many times.

The notion of joining the laughing group, getting caffeine zinging in my blood, possessed me. I could trot out my best jokes. I wasn't in Virginia, and no one in the kitchen had ever heard them. I could splurge, and they would laugh. I would be accepted, or at least until they discovered I was the perp's sister.

Realizing I was considering anything so stupid made me back up and reconsider, which was still a new and shaky skill, even after all the practice.

I shook my head. Where was my other niece? A fear she'd been arrested crossed my mind, but I firmly remembered Mona saying both girls would be there. Something inside said it was time. I needed to start this thing before more panic, or insanity, set in. I crossed the few steps to the chair and gently shook Mona's shoulder. She woke clear as a bell, knowing where she was and understanding, without ever meeting me, who I was. You must be Rae. She sat up, smiling as if we were old friends.

The North Carolina twang jarred my already rattled nerves, but I managed to smile back. Yes, that's me. I tamped down flares of fear. Mona glanced at her watch. Wow, you made good time, especially in this weather. Gray roots showed in the woman's faded red hair.

I probably drove too fast. I was speaking too fast as well. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Where's Torey?

She’d better be around here somewhere. Mona stretched. Maybe back in their room. Wait here. I’ll take a look. She grunted, heaving her bulk from the chair.

During the white-knuckled drive from Richmond to North Carolina, I’d hashed and rehashed our conversation. Mona’s history with Torey began when her school reported suspected neglect. Torey and her clothes were dirty, and Torey’s explanation was the lousy county had turned off their water. It wasn’t her mom’s fault. Mona had monitored the situation since, as Torey was a chronic truant, almost to the point of expulsion, but not beyond. Because of her truancy and general concern about the girls’ welfare, Mona had visited monthly yet never found Vicky or Torey amenable to services. Vicky was only interested in whatever financial assistance Mona could offer, and Torey was non-communicative.

I watched the dumpy woman disappear down a dark hallway.

Everything was happening too fast. I needed instructions, a manual on how to raise kids, safety precautions, something.

Like an apparition, Mona emerged from the hall, dragging a large cardboard box with clothes and stuffed animals sticking from its top. Torey’s still packing their things. She huffed. I think this is mostly Melissa’s. She poked in the open box. Torey will be done soon. She smiled as if we were at the PTA.

Panic sirens sounded deep in my brain.

I’d better get her up, Mona said as she reached to tap Melissa on the shoulder. But she was too casual about what was going to happen to that sleeping child, and I shuddered with dread.

Thankfully, Melissa didn’t wake. She moaned and rolled on her back, sucking her thumb more determinedly. Mona sighed and straightened. I’ll give her a minute.

I let out the air filling my lungs, and Mona gave me a sharp look. The notion of Mona being the one who’d tipped off the police, the person initiating this nightmare, took hold. It hadn’t occurred to me before, and it threw me. I vacillated, unsure how I felt about the frizzy redhead bent over her briefcase. Family loyalty and my career collided, and I didn’t know which side I was on.

Torey! Mona shouted, and I flinched. Mona stomped down the hall a second time while a desire to keep Melissa sleeping, keep Torey in her room a little longer possessed me. I sat on the couch and stroked Melissa’s silky blond hair, so like her mother’s. An outline of Torey stumbling down the hall, pushing a large suitcase once belonging to her grandmother, became visible. I recognized the suitcase’s blue designer fabric and leather edges and flashed on Momma’s smiling face as she went off somewhere with Daddy. Inside, a silent scream began. Torey was no longer a child. A woman approached with breasts and hips, everything rounded and centered by a gold ring glinting from the dusky skin of an exposed belly button. The same belly button I used to kiss when changing her diapers.

Her transformation was even more shocking than Melissa’s, and I was glad to be sitting. My eyes searched for traces of the child I once knew and found nothing.

Because I was stuck, hanging on for dear life to a long-dead couch, I didn’t do any of the things I should’ve. I didn’t rush to help her with the suitcase or welcome her back into my life. I didn’t smile or speak. All I did was attempt to absorb what she’d become.

Tears slid down my face, mourning the loss of a skinny little girl with a fuzzy halo of black hair. Like Vicky, Torey was petite, her tiny female form not blocking Mona, who brought up the rear dragging another large box. Torey’s hair was long like Melissa’s, only in beautiful black waves past her shoulders, and she glared at me as she entered the room. But she’s only twelve, I argued silently with nothing.

From what I gather, it’s been a while, Mona said, gesturing at my niece while wearing a smile so fake it was dreadful, So, Torey, this is your Aunt Rae. Do you remember her?

Torey ducked her head, which instantly hid her face behind her hair. Yeah. Her voice muffled by the hair and angle of her face.

Continuing the cruise director’s routine, Mona said, Well, that’s great. Give me the keys to your car, and Torey and I will take their things out. Then we’ll come back for Melissa. In the meantime, Rae, I need you to sign the forms on this clipboard. Mona snapped a pack of papers to a clipboard before handing it to me. A string dangled a pen tied to the board’s clip.

I craved an outlet for my sadness, a place to howl my pain, but pulled keys from my trench coat and handed them to Mona like a trade for the clipboard. My insides were empty, a void made of shock, and the crumpled lies I’d been telling myself about how much I’d missed them. If my sister had been in the room, I would’ve saved North Carolina the expense of her upcoming trial. I would’ve killed her with my bare hands. I felt more alone than I’d been in a long damn time, something else I hadn’t expected. It’s the BMW parked across the street, I said in a lifeless voice.

No need to wake her until it’s time to leave. Melissa can be…. The cheerful certainty Mona was operating with evaporated. Her face reddened as she searched for a word. Excitable. I have a booster seat you can use in my car. Mona dragged the cardboard box to the front door. After a moment’s hesitation, Torey followed. She seemed as unsure of what to do next as I was.

I shook my head, trying to get clear, and looked at the forms on the clipboard. Words printed on the pages refused to make sense, and I gave up. Stroking Melissa’s hair, I waited for Mona, who returned in record time, dragging the now damp box. Anger leaked from Mona’s pores. What in the world were you thinking? The woman asked in harsh tones. Torey trailed behind her.

Having no idea what I’d been thinking, I was unable to say. I must have looked as blank as a snow-covered beach.

You have a two-seater convertible out there that wouldn’t even hold this luggage.

Luggage? I wasn’t able to comprehend a thing.

I told you there were two girls here. You have two nieces, She shouted.

Uniforms stared. I’d stumbled outside the blue line. Panic, and the question of how to conjure a suitable automobile in the next five seconds, became my world. I sat like something stupid.

Mona continued to yell. Uniforms continued to give me cautious appraisals. A small flame ignited in my chest, something like a pilot light flaring up. I welcomed it because the fire woke up my brain as well. I shook my head again, slowly gaining momentum.

Mona breathed heavily, waiting for an answer.

I stood and, as if speaking to an inept secretary, said, You are correct, Ms. Stumples.

I watched my tone wake up something in Mona, as well. Wheels turned as questions filled her eyes, trying to recall my position in Virginia and calculating how much of an impact I might have on her job in North Carolina. She hesitated, which was a big mistake.

I’m sorry my thoughts were muddled when you called at two a.m. to tell me my sister was arrested and to pick up my nieces. I went nearer, towering over the shorter woman and glaring with all the condescension I could muster. I paused to give Mona a moment to absorb the situation. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Torey observing me.

Mona began to say something, but I interrupted with an impatient sigh, Let me finish, please, if that’s all right with you. My cold glance said more. I handed her the clipboard. Show me what I have to sign tonight so that we can leave immediately. I don’t have time to go through this entire thing right now.

But what about…?

Don’t worry. I’ll get another car first thing in the morning. Let’s get these girls to a motel. You can drive them. She tried to say something, but I stopped her with another look that said, Go ahead, screw with me and see what happens. No civil servant was safe in that look. We are all too tired to deal with anything else tonight. I’d perfected the note of finality in my voice. I’m sure you agree.

Mona sagged like sails collapsing. She nodded absently, going through the pages, pointing out various lines for me to sign and initial. Then she headed outside, dragging her box. I’ll need to see you tomorrow before you leave the state. She shook the clipboard in her free hand. All these forms have to be signed, transfer of custody, and all that.

I’ll come by your office first thing, I promised.

I took my mother’s suitcase from Torey. Can you carry your sister? I asked to be polite. Torey had been carrying Melissa since she was born. Torey nodded, and secretly, I was made ecstatic from the respect in her beautiful green eyes. Finally, something I recognized. The flame in me grew, and my spirit flew. I fully believed it would happen; I would raise them and make a good life for us until I got Vicky straightened out. They wouldn’t have to live at the mercy of their mother’s addictions anymore.

Neither would I.

Putting down the suitcase, I took off my trench coat. After Torey expertly slung the still-sleeping child on her hip, I draped it over them. I picked up my mother’s suitcase, and we went out in the rain together.

Emergency Meal # 7

English muffins

Bottled Spaghetti sauce

Any cheese

(Optional) Any cooked ground meat or sausage, and/or pepperoni

---

Split muffins and spread with sauce, sprinkle meat, grate cheese on top, and broil.

Chapter Two

Nine Months Later – June

Whoever built the beach cottage must have scavenged all its parts because nothing matched. Windows were of varying widths and heights, and no two doors were identical. The bathroom door, for example, was a solid wood contraption probably a few centuries old and heavy enough to require three iron straps to secure it to the wall.

That same heavy bathroom door made a hell of a sound when slammed open. Torey stood in the doorway, screaming, What were you doing, leaving us alone until eight? What in the hell was I supposed to do all day? I left messages at your job and on your cell. Where were you?

Do you see me sitting here? There were so many things wrong with the moment I couldn’t find a place to start. I pulled my pocketbook to my lap. Torey quivered with fury, her fists clenching and relaxing, then clenching again while her nostrils flared. She looked like a character on TV, a dangerous one.

So? What about me? I’m almost a teenager! I’m supposed to be hanging out with friends, but no, I don’t get to do that. You move us to Bum-Fuck Egypt, where there’s nothing, not even cable. You’re holding us prisoners, Rae. I’m calling Social Services. It’s called neglect.

Watch your mouth, I said automatically, and, please, do call them. The number’s on the refrigerator. Maybe Social Services will take you, and I’ll finally get some privacy. Now get out. I mean it. Shut the door and leave.

You can’t do this. Melissa is as bored as me…

I was stuck, so I tuned out Torey’s latest rant. There wasn’t a reason to listen anyway. She’d been saying the same thing since we moved here, and that was what? Only a few weeks ago? Living here was supposed to improve things. My ability to be wrong was becoming frightening.

For the lack of anything better to do, I stared at Melissa. She stood behind Torey, her favorite blue bunny in one arm and sucking her thumb, nodding as if in complete agreement with everything her sister spewed, but her eyes were dreamy and vacant, and I don’t think she heard a thing. A stranger would never guess the angelic-looking child with sleepy eyes was as disturbed as the monster continuing her earsplitting and foul soliloquy in the bathroom’s doorway.

Torey smacked one fist into the other hand’s palm, making a sound like she was punching someone. I knew she wished it was me. She emphasized her point, which was how I’d single-handedly screwed up her life.

Last week, when Melissa turned five, I took them both for pizza and video games in Williamsburg. I thought it would be fun. It was, at first, but Melissa’s idea of a good time was to ratchet up her usual unpleasantness to a point where no one could handle it and then notch it up more.

I ended up half-carrying, half-dragging the child out, kicking, and screaming. Torey wouldn’t lift a finger to help, only smirked and enjoyed the show. It was one of the worst nights of my life, and I swore never to take them in public again until they learned to behave.

Melissa was a baby-acting, wannabe bimbo with a princess fixation, and I hated her only a little less than her sister, the Drama Queen from Planet Teenzilla.

Melissa noticed me noticing her and the cloudy, unfocused look in her eyes cleared. Alarm took its place.

Take that damned thumb out of your mouth right now, I growled and didn’t have one clue why. I was immediately sorry, but to show it would be beyond stupid. It would be like going with open bloody wounds into a pool of sharks in the middle of a feeding frenzy.

Melissa’s large, blue eyes puddled with tears. Why’re you hollering at me, Arae? I didn’t do nothing.

Torey nick-named me Arae when she learned to speak. I used to love it. You didn’t do anything, I countered as if improving her grammar might be possible. I couldn’t believe I was picking on a five-year-old.

I stared at my nemesis Torey and said with enough finality to stop the madness, if only a moment, If you don’t get the hell out of this bathroom, right this second, you can count on not even having a phone tomorrow.

You can’t do that! Torey screamed an octave higher.

For once, the lack of neighbors was a blessing. Watch me. I couldn’t go higher, but I could go louder and angrier.

Torey, always with the last word, I hate you, Rae. You are such a bitch. I hate you, hate you, hate you! They stomped down the hall.

Watch your mouth, I whispered. The sliding glass door leading to the screened-in porch squealed like something tortured when the girls opened it.

The bathroom door, of course, stayed wide open. I sighed and longed for the days when I had all the privacy I wanted.

I was too depressed to do the usual routine. I couldn’t distract myself with laundry, cleaning, or picking up. I had no energy to yell at the girls to take showers with soap, brush teeth with toothpaste, and all the other things that went with having kids in your house.

I was in over my head and knew it. All the signs were there. Upset stomachs, headaches, memory getting wobblier, not sleeping, and the worst part, a growing sense of terror threatening to overtake me. My concerns over money, about managing my stress, and how my boss didn’t appear to like me at all consumed every waking moment. I was terrified of never having another boyfriend, ever, and the worst terror of all ─ how to live with two girls who hated me.

Staring at chipped green and white tiles that made up the floor, I tried deep breathing. For the last three un-incarcerated remnants of my family, the situation was desperate. We were like shipwrecked sailors washed up on a sandy shore and slowly dying of thirst in the middle of an ocean.

Vicky’s incarceration was heart-breaking, and her trial was worse, as was the girls’ agony at being separated from her. Torey shut down, barely speaking. Melissa began repetitively rocking, which turned out to be a form of masturbation. Torey had nightmares while Melissa wet the bed, and I became a wad of sympathy.

Slowly, unfortunately, they thawed, and I had to learn how to defend myself.

Cranking open a window, I lifted my face to a sweet Virginia breeze wafting into the stuffy room. I was glad the day was over and couldn’t figure out why it had been so awful.

Or why I’d been so awful, like when my co-worker, Katrina, asked if I wanted to go to lunch, I heard me say, No, right off. Blunt as hell, and then my stupid, awkward apology, which only made things worse. Why’d I do that? Katrina seems nice. It would be great to get to know her better. I could really use a friend, especially at work. I shook my head.

Whatever was going on with me didn’t have a thing to do with my job. Today had been an easy day as it was the last of June, and I’d only had three home visits to complete.

An uncomfortable thought stirred ─ wasn’t it the last day of June when I broke it off with Dennis? Had it only been a year since I called off that doomed affair? With all the crap from him and the girls, it felt more like two. Or ten.

A flash of me that day, apologetically telling Dennis I’d heard some rumors, presented itself. I shook my head. How could I have not seen, even then, the cold evil in the man? And, besides, how was anyone supposed to go through so many changes in only one year?

I peeled off the toilet seat, thinking I should see about the girls but dawdled instead in the bathroom, washing my face and, for no particular reason, brushing my teeth. New worry lines had appeared on my forehead, and my hair and skin were dull.

Hiding out in the bathroom wasn’t an option, and there weren’t too many other places to go. Two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen/family room, and the screened-in porch made up the entire cottage.

I went to my room and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. It was an ugly room, painted a depressing, cold dark green selected by my mother long ago. The hall wasn’t much better. Why she’d picked mustard for the hall, I’d never know. I guess she thought it went with the horrible green and white tiles she’d selected for the floors.

The kitchen was in its usual state, with milk left out on the counter along with the remnants of everything they’d eaten. I put the milk back in the refrigerator, noting the warm carton. I used to yell about stuff like that.

The girls