Page 71 of Last Slice of Pie

“Me too. I was surprised to see her when they brought her into the locker room—didn’t even know she was coming to the game. Nothing like having a hot girl hold your hand while you bawl like a baby.”

“You showed her your soft side—girls like that.” I laugh, and he cracks a smile.

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “What about Lexi?” His eyes narrow and he studies me for a reaction. He knew we were off—I think in reality everyone knew we weren’t right—but they all gave me the space I needed.

“She’s good.”

“Y’all good?” he asks.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“It’s about time you got your head out of your ass. It pains me to think of all that sweet deliciousness we’ve missed out on.”

“We?”

“Well, yeah. We rarely see one without the other, and well, pie, man. You know how I feel about pie.” He rubs his stomach.

“I would argue you feel that way about all food.”

“What can I say? Food is my love language.”

I can’t help but laugh. There’s a little of our Jack shining through.

“Are you gonna be all right?” I ask him.

He lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I just need to get to a place where I can start rehab and see what happens. I just keep trying to remind myself that, no matter what, it was a good run. I made it in the game a lot longer than most.”

“You have, but we don’t know that it’s over, so hang in there.” I can’t think about it being over. I can’t go there at all. “What are you going to do in the meantime?”

His eyes find mine, and he shakes his head while shrugging his shoulders and frowning.

“I don’t know.”

Turkey Tetrazzini Casserole

THREE DAYS AFTER we returned from the game, Bryan packed a large bag and followed behind me to my house in Oakwood. It wasn’t an easy three days, but we’re making progress. A bruised heart doesn’t happen easily for a guy like Bryan, and when it does, it takes longer to heal.

The team had their postgame debrief, and I’m not sure what was said, but Bryan came home with his shoulders a little more relaxed. Between the loss of Jack and the loss of the game, he’s been a little lost in his head, but today, his eyes are clearer, which means he’s on the road to mental recovery.

As for me, it feels good to be back home, and it feels right to have him here. During the weeks we spent apart leading up to the game, I’d forgotten how empty this house can feel, but now with him here, it feels complete. Yes, we are still working through things, as normal couples do, but we’re happy, and I believe we’re in a stronger place because of it.

Currently, he’s out for a run around the property, and I’m making us hand pies for dinner, small handheld pies that hold either a sweet or savory filling. Do I make pies every day? No—there’s no way we could eat that much—but the handhelds provide me a way to get my hands messy and my mind lost in thought. It’s like meditation for me, and whether I’m contemplating life or just daydreaming, it clears my head and cleanses my soul.

What a lot of people don’t realize is there’s an art to making a pie, especially the pie crust. The characteristics most desired are flakiness, crispness, and tenderness, and all of this is achieved by three ingredients: flour, fat, and a liquid. People who make pies all have their own opinions about the best way these three ingredients should be chosen and mixed, but like art, the beauty lies in the eye of the beholder.

Sliding a pan of root vegetables and ground turkey simmering in a romesco sauce to a cold burner, I walk to the refrigerator to grab the dough.

People always ask for insight on why my crust is so good, and I tell them four things.

First, always chill the dough for an hour, at least. Chilling it allows the present gluten strands time to settle down and relax, and it lets available moisture find its way back into all parts of the dough. This makes it easier to roll out and cuts down on any shrinking during the baking process.

Second, you have to use your hands and knead each mound just enough to form each one into a disk. The trick here is not to over-knead, to do just enough so the dough holds together without cracking. There’s a fine line, because if you go too far, kneading develops gluten, which will toughen the dough, and no one wants tough dough as a pastry crust.

Third, roll from the center outward. This helps with the density of the dough and allows you to get the most out of it.

And fourth, if your pie has a two-layer crust, you must poke a hole or put slits in the top of the pie when it’s baking or it will turn soggy. Vents must be created to let the water vapor escape.

The sound of the front door opening and the screen door slapping behind it pulls my attention as I watch Bryan walk into the kitchen. I still find it surreal that he’s here, and my stomach drops at the sight of him: no shirt, athletic shorts, hair sticking straight up, and skin glistening with sweat. He props his hands on his hips as his breathing slowly returns to normal.