By Clay turns eighteen tomorrow. June 13, 2018. Legal. An adult in the eyes of the law, if not in the eyes of his mother, who still sees the nine-pound baby and the boy who ate crayons (that was Travis, actually, but Connie attributes all toddler chaos to the nearest child). Eighteen means he can vote, sign contracts, buy lottery tickets, and walk into a recruiting office without parental permission, the last of which he already did, but the legal retroactivity doesn't diminish the sting.
For his birthday, I made his favorites one more time: smoked ribs, corn on the cob, baked beans, Connie's chocolate cake. The exact same meal as last year. The same because tradition matters and because this might be the last birthday dinner I cook for Clay in this house, and I wanted it to be the meal he remembers when he's in a mess hall eating whatever the Army considers food and missing his mother's cake.
The ribs were good. The corn was good. The cake was good. Everything was good and nothing was fine, because "good" and "fine" are different words for different conditions and I know the difference. Good is the food. Fine is the feeling. The food was good. The feeling was not fine. The feeling was terror dressed in birthday candles.
Clay blew out eighteen candles and Connie took a video and Travis cheered and Amber FaceTimed from the hospital where she's doing her ER externship and Tyler ate four ribs and Clay smiled the way Clay smiles — small, contained, genuine — and I stood at the grill and thought: twenty-seven days. Twenty-seven days and this boy who just blew out birthday candles will be getting screamed at by a drill sergeant in Georgia and I will be standing in an empty kitchen making soup beans for two.
After everyone left, Clay and I sat on the back porch. He had a piece of cake in one hand and a glass of milk in the other and he said "Dad, I'm ready." Not defensive. Not defiant. Ready. The simple declaration of a man — because he's a man now, at eighteen, whether I accept it or not — who has made a decision and is at peace with it. "I'm ready." I said "I know you are." And I meant it. He is ready. He's been ready since the recruiter walked into his school and handed him a card and Clay looked at it and saw a door that he was born to walk through. He's ready. I'm not. But that's my problem, not his.
Connie made her chocolate cake for Clay’s birthday — she always does — but the year before he left, I started thinking about what I’d make if the choice were mine: something excessive, something that said “you are worth every bit of the effort.” This Better-Than-Anything Peanut Butter Cake is that cake. Clay sat on that porch with a slice of cake and a glass of milk like it was the most ordinary evening in the world, and maybe that’s exactly the point — you make the most extraordinary thing you know how to make, and you let the ordinary moment hold it.
Better-Than-Anything Peanut Butter Cake
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 55 min (plus cooling) | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 box (15.25 oz) chocolate cake mix
- Eggs, oil, and water as directed on cake mix box
- 1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk
- 1 jar (11.75 oz) hot fudge topping, warmed
- 1 cup creamy peanut butter
- 1 container (8 oz) frozen whipped topping, thawed
- 1/2 cup powdered sugar
- 1/2 cup chopped peanut butter cups or crushed peanuts, for topping
- 2 tablespoons chocolate syrup, for drizzle
Instructions
- Bake the cake. Prepare chocolate cake mix according to package directions in a 9x13 inch baking pan. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool 10 minutes.
- Poke and soak. While cake is still warm, use the handle of a wooden spoon to poke holes across the entire surface, spacing them about 1 inch apart.
- Add condensed milk. Pour sweetened condensed milk evenly over the cake, letting it soak into the holes. Allow to absorb for 10 minutes.
- Spread hot fudge. Spoon warmed hot fudge topping over the condensed milk layer and spread gently to cover the surface. Let cool completely.
- Make peanut butter whip. In a medium bowl, beat peanut butter and powdered sugar together until smooth. Fold in thawed whipped topping until fully combined and fluffy.
- Top the cake. Spread the peanut butter whipped topping evenly over the cooled cake.
- Finish and chill. Sprinkle chopped peanut butter cups or crushed peanuts over the top and drizzle with chocolate syrup. Refrigerate at least 2 hours before serving.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 68g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 410mg