The moment lingered; the admission stung, but we had grown accustomed to pretending. By the time I was out of the shower and dressed, we were back to our roles. We could love and be in love in these moments; the future be damned. It was a precarious and dangerous path, but we were both too weak for the alternative.

"Okay. So, all this is going to become eggplant parmesan," Billy said as he surveyed the kitchen island filled with groceries.

"I can help," Mary called from just beyond the doorway.

"Mom," Billy groaned. "We're adults. Please let us cook one meal!"

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'll be at Betty's playing Canasta if you or the fire department need to reach me," she called out before we heard the front door shut behind her.

"She has such little faith in us," Billy shook his head at me.

"I think she has the exact right amount of faith in us," I noted as I looked over the ingredients.

"We can do this. There is no meat so we have decreased the likelihood of really causing a health scare," he measured. "We can do this," he said again to himself.

"I'm less convinced," I added.

"I have her recipe," Billy continued as he pulled a couple yellowed notecards from a drawer.

"Oh, okay. I can read and follow instructions like the best of them," I said as I eagerly took the notecards. I read through them and quickly realized the problem. "Billy, there are no measurements or timings or anything in this. Peel tomatoes with seasoning until sauce is ready. That is literally step one. Her entire sauce recipe is peel tomatoes with seasoning until sauce is ready. We're screwed."

"What? No, that can't be..." he took the card from me and read them over. "Exactly what she wrote. Yeah, we're screwed. I didn't even know you could peel a tomato."

"Right! It is hard enough to peel? I mean I can peel a potato all day long, but squishy tomato?" I was even more baffled as I stared over the ingredients. "And what makes something an ingredient versus a seasoning?"

"She's evil. You hear about it, the moment when you see your parent for who they really are. I just never thought my own mom was pure evil." Billy shook his head in horror.

I sucked in a deep breath and mustered a confident "we can do this."

"We can?" Billy said, still bewildered by the scene laying on the island before us.

"Billy Collins, you have had a number one single, sold out Madison Square Garden, and survived a summer in a van with Tim. You can do this."

"No." He shook his head and lifted his gaze to me. "We can do this."

I smiled. "Right, so step one peel the tomatoes. Where is your peeler?" I asked.

"Right here," he eagerly pulled the peeler from a nearby drawer. "Do you want to wash 'em or peel 'em?"

"Um," I desperately wanted to wash them as I still had no idea how you would peel the thin skin away from the soft flesh, but I had to face my fears. "Peel," I confidently nodded.

"Okay, I'll wash." Billy washed the first tomato and handed it to me.

"Peel the tomato," I murmured to myself as I looked at the red fruit in one hand and the peeler in the other. "I can do this."

"We," Billy corrected. "We can do this."

"We can do this," I concurred as I began my first attempt, which resulted in little more than a bruised tomato. "What am I doing wrong?" I sighed as Billy finished washing the rest of the tomatoes.

"Maybe you have to break the skin with the knife so the peeler has something to catch?" Billy suggested.

"Okay," I nodded before making a small slice to the tomato and trying again with marginally better success. "Haven't you even seen your mom peel a tomato?"

"No," he shrugged. "Isn't you mom like a home ec teacher? Have you ever seen her peel a tomato?" He jabbed back at me.

I sucked in another breath to prevent myself from snapping back. "We can't turn on each other," I declared. "I am confident we can outsmart a tomato."

"My confidence is dwindling," Billy admitted.

"You know what?"

"What?" Billy's eye gleamed at my sudden confidence.

"To the Googler," I declared.

"The Googler," Billy agreed.

I brought it up in on my phone. "You have got to be kidding me," I lamented as I read the directions. "No normal person would have ever known to do this."

"What?"

"Apparently you need to put them in boiling water for a couple of second then immediately put them into ice was and the skin just falls off them," I groaned.

"Really? How did someone come up with that?" His nose scrunched up as he thought about the process. It caused little creases that made me giggle. "What?" He smiled at me.

"Nothing. You just looked so adorable when you are confused," I teased.

"When I'm confused!" Billy grabbed my around the waist and pulled me to him. "I believe you mean when we're confused," he added as he dipped his face to my neck and tickled it with soft kisses pulling more giggles from me.

"Yes, I concede. We we're confused!"

Billy spun me to face him. "Always a we," he added before dipping to kiss me.

I let my arms circle his neck as he lifted me off the floor.

"This is about as well as I expected this to be going," Tim said from the doorway.

Billy reluctantly let me slide down him to the floor before our lips parted.

"I don't remember inviting the peanut gallery," Billy noted as I spun in his arms to face Tim.

"You two are incredibly cute. I'd be jealous if I... oh, no. I am jealous," Tess added.

"Ouch," Billy and I said together.

"I'm very romantic," Timmy shot.

"Are you?" Tess teased.

"Yes. Just last week I brought you home flowers," he noted. "And last night, I did that think you like with the ice cream."

"Ew!" Billy and I called out in unison.

"Relax, he talking about how I like ice cream in my hot cocoa," Tess laughed.

"Not cool, man," Billy groaned.

"Hey, you shot first!" Tim responded.

"Did I? I believe that was the misses," Billy argued.

"It doesn't matter, we have some tomatoes to peel," I reminded Billy as I pulled myself from his arms.

Billy quickly grasped my waist and pulled me back to his chest. "We could just order eggplant parm from a restaurant and spend the afternoon upstairs," he whispered.

"Mmhmm, tempting, but no," I whispered back accented with a kiss to his cheek.

"Well, at least I got a tempting," Billy noted as he let me slip from his arms.

"So, how do you peel a tomato?" Tim asked as he looked over the kitchen island.

"Honestly Tim, you've spent countless hours eating my mom's food and you never even learned how to peel a tomato?" Billy teased, causing me to laugh.

Tim gave a sheepish shrug.

"You bring a pot of water to boil, throw the tomatoes in for a couple of second, and then you put them in ice cold water. The skins just slip right off," Billy explained as though he had done it a million times.

"Really? How would I know that?" Tim grumbled.

"It's true," Tess shrugged.

"Wait, you knew that?" Tim said in shock.

"Tim, I've made chicken parm for you a million times," Tess complained.

"You make that sauce from scratch? It's so good. I... really?" Tim's face was a mix of awe and confusion.

"Really? You thought I just grab a jar of sauce?" Tess moaned.

"You made that sauce. Seriously? I... I just... It's just." Tim slipped to one knee. "Marry me. You can have anything you want; all my records. Just marry me and never leave me hungry."

"Get up, Tim," Tess groaned.

Tim stood. "You made the sauce," he said again in wonder.

"Are you two done?" Billy complained as we waited for the pot of water to boil.

"Almost. Hey guys, did you know that my girl knows how to make sauce? Like real sauce that you want to swim in and make a life around?" Tim continued.

"I think I heard something about that," I teased back.

"Okay, I can see that you two have a sense of what you are doing, so we are going to leave," Tess announced.

"Thank you," Billy confidently said.

"Leave? What? I want to watch them," Tim protested.

"Do you? Or do you want to come home with me and watch me make my sauce?" Tess enticed.

"Yes, please. That. I would like that very much," Tim murmured as though he were hypnotized by Tess.

"Say good-bye to your friends," Tess directed.

"Good-bye to my friend," Tim obeyed.

"Call me if you need me," Tess offered as they left.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Billy and I looked at each other and agreed that we shouldn't have let her leave.

"We can do this," Billy reassured.

After consulting the Googler multiple times, things started to progress. Billy particularly enjoyed smashing the tomatoes, which multiple sources said was most effectively done by hand. Hours later something that resembled eggplant parm was in the oven and Billy and I were exhausted.

"How does she do this everyday?" Billy lamented as he slumped to a stool at the island.

"And still have the energy to deal with everyone coming in and bothering her," I added.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again; the woman is a saint."

"Agreed," I said as I slid on the stool next to him. "So, I mean, this was a good effort, but..."

"Pizza. We order a backup pizza," Billy answered without pause.

"Perfect! I mean, I hope it turns out great and all, but..."

"Yeah, the likeliness of it being edible is slim to none," Billy agreed. After a moment of silence, Billy twisted my waist to my stool swung me to face him. "Hey, I had fun today."

"Me too. This is actually the most fun I've had... geez, I'm not even sure," I admitted.

"Well, I had a decent time last night," Billy noted.

"You know what I mean." I pushed at his shoulder in jest.

"This is a good life, Lil," Billy added as he flicked at my belt loop. "We could have this."

"Ten percent of the time," I reminded him.

"No, all the time. I like to create music. I can be a song writer, a studio musician. There are a ton of paths that don't include touring. Let me choose, Lil."

"No, Billy. I know you. I've seen you on stage. I've seen you in the moments before and I've seen you in the moments after."

"Yeah, Lil. You have seen me in all those moments. But I am me. I know what I am thinking, I know what I like and I know what I love. Let me choose."

"Can we not do this now? Can we just have one night?"

"Yeah, we can have a night," Billy agreed.

"So," Mary began as she looked over her plate.

"It's eggplant parm," Billy offered.

"Of course it is," Mary agreed.

"Do you know why it's so.... Soupy?" I asked.

"Well, did you salt the eggplant and let it rest?" Mary asked.

"No, Mom. We didn't. Did you put that in your recipe?" Billy grumbled before I kicked him beneath the table. "Sorry," he mournfully added.

"I think it was a very good first effort," Mary smiled. "You should have seen the mess I made the first time I tried to make it!" Mary laughed to herself.

Billy smiled and slung an arm around my shoulders. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, when your father and I were first married, your father would call me Fire Marshall Mary, because the fire department came so many times," she continued.

"No," I protested, as Billy let out a loud laugh.

"Oh yeah, my casseroles were soups and my soups were more like oatmeal. It was terrible. It's amazing we didn't starve to death. You father, bless his soul, worked so far to put food on the table and what I did with it..." Mary's eye gleamed with tears. "Well, he would eat every bit on the plate and tell me it was delicious. As though I didn't know."

Billy held out a hand to his mom, who clutched it.

"We had fun," I offered.

"That's the key," Mary smiled as she gave her son's hand a last squeeze before dropping it. "You can solve all your problems as long as you can laugh together."

"Agreed," Billy said as he kissed my temple.