Pink Lemonade Pie

The first week of knowing. The first week of walking around the apartment and seeing his toothbrush and knowing it has an expiration date. September first. Five weeks. The countdown has started and I didn't buy a ticket to this show but I'm in the front row anyway.

We decided — together, adults, at the kitchen table with the overhead light — that we would end the relationship when he moves. Not before. Not after. When he goes, we go. Clean. Kind. No long distance. No "let's try." We've both seen what "let's try" looks like — it looks like phone calls that get shorter and texts that get less frequent and a slow fade that turns love into obligation. Neither of us wants that. We want what we had: full, present, here. And if "here" is ending, then we'll end it with the same honesty we started it with.

Five weeks of loving someone who's leaving. Five weeks of knowing every dinner is one of the last, every kiss is numbered, every Tuesday night on the couch is finite. It should make everything worse. It makes everything sharper. The edges of things — his laugh, the way he says "hey" when he walks in, the coconut shampoo smell on my pillow — are all suddenly in high definition. Impermanence is the world's most effective magnifying glass.

I told Chloe and Jayden. I sat them down on Saturday — Chloe on the couch, Jayden on the floor because Jayden conducts all serious conversations from the floor — and I said: "Terrence got a really amazing job in Atlanta, so he's going to move there in September." Chloe said: "Is he coming back?" I said: "He'll visit." She nodded. That was it. Nodded and went back to her book. Seven years old and already fluent in the language of people leaving. I hated that. I hated that my daughter's response to a man moving away was a nod and a return to reading. I hated that she wasn't surprised.

Jayden said: "Can I visit the fire stations in Atlanta?" And just like that, the tragedy receded. Because four-year-olds don't process departure the way we do. Four-year-olds process departure as a logistics problem: if the man is in Atlanta, are there fire stations in Atlanta? There are. Problem solved. Grief is for people who have lost the ability to redirect. Jayden has not lost that ability. Jayden is a master redirector. I should take lessons.

I made a peach cobbler — peak season Georgia peaches from the farmers market, brown sugar, butter, a biscuit topping that Earline would approve of. Georgia peaches for the Georgia-bound man. The irony was not lost on me. The cobbler was perfect. Terrence ate two servings and said, "You're going to miss me." I said, "I already do." He said, "I'm still here." Still here. For five more weeks, still here.

I made the cobbler for him, but I made the pie for me — or really, for the five weeks that are left, the ones I intend to taste all the way through. Pink Lemonade Pie is everything that season asks for: cold, creamy, sweet with just enough tart to keep you honest. It felt right to have something in the refrigerator that was bright and temporary and worth every single bite, which is exactly the energy I’m trying to hold onto right now. Chloe asked for a second slice and Jayden asked if Atlanta has lemonade, and I said yes, baby, Atlanta has everything.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 15 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 pre-made graham cracker crust (9-inch)
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk
1 can (6 oz) frozen pink lemonade concentrate, thawed
8 oz whipped topping (such as Cool Whip), thawed, plus more for serving
2–3 drops red or pink food coloring (optional, for deeper color)
Lemon slices or fresh raspberries, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Beat the cream cheese. In a large mixing bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with a hand mixer on medium speed until completely smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Add condensed milk and lemonade. Pour in the sweetened condensed milk and the thawed pink lemonade concentrate. Beat on medium speed until fully combined and smooth, about 1–2 minutes. Add food coloring now if desired, and mix to incorporate.
Fold in whipped topping. Using a rubber spatula, gently fold in the whipped topping in two additions, being careful not to deflate it. Fold just until no white streaks remain.
Fill the crust. Pour the filling into the prepared graham cracker crust and smooth the top with the spatula. The filling will be thick and creamy.
Chill. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or until the pie is fully set and slices cleanly. For a firmer, icier texture, freeze for 2 hours before serving.
Serve. Slice and top each piece with a dollop of whipped topping and a lemon slice or a few fresh raspberries if desired. Serve cold directly from the refrigerator or let stand 5 minutes if frozen.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pink Lemonade Pie — Sweet, Tart, and Gone Before You’re Ready