By Christmas week. Brianna has the kids Christmas Day Γçö my year was Thanksgiving, hers is Christmas, that's the deal. I get them Christmas Eve afternoon through Christmas morning. We negotiated this over text in October with the kind of careful, bloodless politeness that divorced parents develop to avoid saying the things they actually feel. It's fine. It's the shape of the thing.
Christmas Eve I made Mama's baked chicken with rice and gravy. Not because it's a holiday recipe Γçö it isn't Γçö but because it's Aiden's favorite and I wanted his last meal of the night to be something that tasted like love and not obligation. Seasoned the chicken with garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, salt, pepper, a little cayenne. Baked at 375 until the skin was golden and the juices ran clear. Rice cooked in chicken broth instead of water Γçö Mama's trick, the one that separates okay rice from rice that makes you close your eyes. Gravy from the pan drippings. Simple. Perfect. The kids ate in their pajamas. We watched a Christmas movie. Zaria fell asleep on the couch at nine. Aiden stayed up until ten pretending he wasn't tired. I carried them both to bed. Two trips. Getting heavier every year.
Christmas morning they opened presents. Zaria got the doll Γçö the specific one from the legal brief she filed in early December. Aiden got new basketball shoes and a book about LeBron. They were happy. That's all I needed. I drove them to Brianna's at noon. The handoff was quick. Brianna said Merry Christmas. I said it back. I meant it. Whatever she is or isn't to me now, she gave me those two kids, and that's a debt I can't repay and don't want to.
Christmas dinner at Mama's. Second one without Marc. Last year the empty chair was a scream. This year it's a whisper, but whispers can be louder when the room gets quiet. Mama cooked for three days Γçö ham, smothered pork chops, mac and cheese, collard greens, candied yams, cornbread, sweet potato pie. I made the cornbread again. She let me. Keisha came. Darius brought his family. Pop sat in his recliner after dinner and fell asleep watching whatever was on TV. The kids played in the living room. The house was loud and full and missing one person, and we all felt it, and nobody said it, because Carters grieve by filling the table and eating until the sadness has less room. I hugged Mama when I left. She held on longer than usual. I let her.
The chicken and rice was the real meal, the one that mattered — but after we ate and the movie was on and the kids were loose and happy in their pajamas, Aiden asked if we could make something sweet. These no-bake haystacks are what we landed on: a bag of chips, a can of noodles, ten minutes on the stove, and then we dropped them on wax paper and waited while the movie kept playing and Zaria kept stealing spoonfuls of the melted chocolate when she thought I wasn’t looking. By the time they hardened, it was almost nine. By the time we ate a few, Zaria was asleep on the couch. That’s the recipe I want to remember alongside the chicken — the one we made together, just because we could.
Chocolate Butterscotch Haystacks
Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 45 min (includes cooling) | Servings: 24 pieces
Ingredients
- 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
- 1 cup butterscotch chips
- 1 can (3 oz) chow mein noodles
- 1/2 cup dry-roasted peanuts (optional)
- Pinch of flaky sea salt (optional, for topping)
Instructions
- Prep your surface. Line a large baking sheet or flat surface with wax paper or parchment. Set aside.
- Melt the chips. Combine the chocolate chips and butterscotch chips in a medium microwave-safe bowl. Microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring between each, until fully melted and smooth — about 2 to 2 1/2 minutes total. Do not overheat or the chocolate will seize.
- Fold in the noodles. Add the chow mein noodles (and peanuts, if using) to the melted chocolate mixture. Stir gently with a rubber spatula until all the noodles are fully coated.
- Drop and shape. Using two spoons or a small cookie scoop, drop rounded spoonfuls of the mixture onto the prepared wax paper, shaping each into a small mound. If using sea salt, sprinkle lightly on top of each piece before they set.
- Let set. Allow the haystacks to cool and harden at room temperature for 30 minutes, or transfer to the refrigerator for 15 minutes if you need them faster. They’re ready when firm to the touch.
- Store. Keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days, or refrigerate for up to 2 weeks. Layer between sheets of wax paper to prevent sticking.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 115 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 15g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 48mg