Slow-Cooker Peach Cobbler

He left on Sunday, September 1st, 2019. Labor Day weekend. The moving truck was loaded Saturday night — his brother helped, a man named DeAndre who drove up from Atlanta and was polite and efficient and didn't look at me with pity, which I appreciated more than he'll ever know. The apartment was empty by 9 PM. Terrence's apartment, not mine. His space was boxes now. His life was cardboard and tape and a U-Haul with Georgia plates.

He came to say goodbye Sunday morning. Early. Seven AM. The kids were still asleep. I opened the door and he was standing there in jeans and a t-shirt and he looked exactly the same as the man who brought sunflowers on Valentine's Day and I thought: this is how you'll remember him. This face. This door. This morning.

He said: "I don't want to do this in front of the kids." I said: "I know." We stood in the doorway — inside and outside, the threshold between staying and going — and he held me and I held him and we didn't say goodbye because goodbye is for people who aren't coming back and Terrence is coming back. He has a guest room. He has a wallet full of orange hearts. He's coming back. He's just not staying.

He said: "This is not Marcus. This is not Danny. This is different. I need you to know that." I said: "I know." And I do. I know because Marcus left in silence and Danny left without warning and Terrence left standing in my doorway at 7 AM on a Sunday holding me and saying: this is not the same. This is a man choosing a career and grieving a love and those two things can happen at the same time and it doesn't make him a villain. It makes him human. I'm human too. Humans leave sometimes. The brave ones tell you first.

He woke the kids before he left. Chloe hugged him and said, "Bye, Terrence." Two words. Steady. She's learned how to say goodbye without breaking. She learned it too young. Jayden gave him the fire helmet. THE fire helmet. The one he wears to bed, the one from Wanda, the one that is his most precious possession. He held it out and said, "You can borrow it." Borrow. Not keep. BORROW. Because Jayden is four and he understands, on some level that language can't reach, that borrowing means you come back. You come back to return what was lent. Terrence took the helmet and said, "I'll take good care of it, big man." He left with a fire helmet and two cards in his wallet and a recipe for sweet potato pie that's better in my kitchen.

I didn't cook on Sunday. I sat on the couch where we used to sit and I looked at the toothbrush cup — three toothbrushes now, where there were four — and I let the missing hurt. I let it fill the apartment the way his coconut shampoo used to fill the bathroom. The missing has a smell. It smells like absence. It smells like September. It smells like the end of something that was good, which is the worst kind of end because you can't even be angry about it. You can only be sad and grateful and sad again.

I didn’t cook on Sunday — I already told you that — but Monday came, the way Mondays do, and Chloe and Jayden needed something warm and sweet that wasn’t made by their mother staring out a window. So I did the only thing I could manage: I put peaches in the slow cooker, pressed the button, and walked away. It cooks itself. It fills the apartment with a smell that is not September, not absence — something softer. I can’t make sweet potato pie yet; that one still belongs to a different kind of Sunday. But peach cobbler — that one I can give them right now.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 3 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 3 hours 40 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cans (15 oz each) sliced peaches in juice, undrained
1 cup yellow cake mix (dry, from a standard box)
1/2 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Nonstick cooking spray
Vanilla ice cream or whipped cream, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Prepare the slow cooker. Lightly coat the inside of a 4- to 6-quart slow cooker with nonstick cooking spray.
Add the peaches. Pour both cans of sliced peaches — juice and all — into the slow cooker. Stir in the vanilla extract and spread the peaches into an even layer.
Mix the topping. In a medium bowl, combine the dry cake mix, rolled oats, brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Drizzle the melted butter over the mixture and stir until it comes together in a loose, crumbly topping.
Layer — do not stir. Sprinkle the topping evenly over the peaches. Do not press it down or stir it in; leave it in a layer on top.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 3 to 3 1/2 hours, until the topping is set and cooked through. In the last 30 minutes, prop the lid slightly ajar with the handle of a wooden spoon to let steam escape and help the topping firm up.
Serve warm. Scoop into bowls while still warm. Top with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a spoonful of whipped cream if you have it. It’s good either way.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Cooker Peach Cobbler — The Kitchen Fills Itself When You Can’t