The Quince Project by Jessica Parra

Author:Jessica Parra
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

* * *

Po had the idea of shaping the tostones into small cups and stuffing the insides with spoonfuls of the picadillo. To prove it could work, she made a few prototypes.

She set a platter on the kitchen table. Mouth watering, I lifted one for closer inspection. Ground beef glittered with seasoning. I gave the sides of it a squeeze. Who knew twice-fried plantains could be so pliable?

I popped one into my mouth and groaned from the deliciousness. “Perfect hors d’oeuvres for the auction.”

She jumped up and down, clapping.

“But they are also perfect for”—I sprang from the chair, darting across the kitchen to grab the iPad—“this.” I extended it to her. “You should add it to the recipes.”

Her cheeks flushed. “You really think so?” she asked.

“I do.” After hearing Mom’s music, her words, and now enjoying her food again … I remembered what Javi had said the other night about stars.

Mom’s starlight kept shining. If Po and I tended to its fire, we could make sure it always did. “Take it.”

She cracked her knuckles and massaged her palms the way she often did before volleyball matches, then took it. “What do you think about calling them PSTs? Picadillo-stuffed tostones?”

“I love it,” I said.

Her fingertips moved across the screen. Right when she hit Save, a text pinged.

I took a sidelong peek. Sorry, got stuck at work. On my way.

“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to make an appearance,” I said, biting into another PST.

Po set the iPad on the table. “I can hear that eye-roll,” she said through a mouthful of her new creation. “Have you ever thought about cutting Dad some slack every now and then?”

My mouth fell open. A half-chewed raisin landed onto the table. After hooking her up with two summer jobs, she really had the nerve to ask? “You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not.” She swallowed loudly. “People do the best they can with the tools they got.”

“Well, Dr. Phil,” I snapped. “If that’s true, Dad’s got no tools.”

“That’s exactly my point, Einstein.”

“Then he should make a pit stop at Ace Hardware. I could drop him a pin; it’s on the way home.” I stuffed another PST into my mouth, preferring to chew than discuss this any further. If these weren’t so damn good, I would’ve lost my appetite.

“Fine. Forget I said anything. Should we at least save some of these for him?” She motioned to the last few PSTs. “But I’m also still hungo, sooo. I’m down to finish them if you are.”

“Finally, a plan I can get behind.”

Po shook her head, trying hard not to laugh. She picked up the tablet again, checking out the family calendar. “Him being late is a good thing, ya know.”

I tilted my head.

“He’s missing dinner, but we’re missing the birds-and-the-bees talk,” she said, pointing to the event Dad had set.

I bit my lips, but a laugh broke through anyway. Thank you, Universe, for silver linings.

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