“Eric.  Hi.”

“Jillie?”  He couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.

“Yeah, is Nick there?”   Silence.  Dead Silence.  “Eric?” “Yeah. No. No.”

“Eric, could you meet me for coffee?”

“My cars in the shop, the guys are coming to pick me up for band practice at 5pm.”  “Eric, how about I come now.  I will pick you up.”  “Ok. But I don’t have much time.  What’s going on Jillie?”

“I won’t take much of your time.  Just let me buy you a coffee, okay.  See you soon.’ I said, not realizing I had been holding my breath.

“Jillie, I …”   “Eric, I will tell you when I get there.  I’m heading your way now.”

Running the engine for a minute to warm up, I sat in the luxurious leather seats of my Jaquar.  What a car.  Just do it!  Nick and I shouted, looking at each other.  A total impulse buy. Sunroof, stereo to die for and the best part: Fast and Furious.  You could pass a semi in pounding, pouring rain with confidence.  It held twists and turns in the road that felt like you were still on the freeway.  It gave me I-have-everything -to-live -for feeling.

Usually, I take the longest route to my destination, but this time I went straight to Eric’s place and honked the horn.

He came out his front door.  Always the cool dude drummer.  I had seen him with long hair and bell bottoms to today’s short hair and jeans.  His style may have changed; he was heavier, older, and wore glasses despite that he never will lose his cool stagger, still attracting girls at every gig.

“Hey, Jillie,” he said as he slid into the passenger seat. “I was thinking let’s go through Starbucks drive-thru and go park in the park.”  “Okay.”

Except when we parked neither of us touched the coffee.  “I found a naked picture of Stormy today on Nicks computer.”  He looks at me like, What?  Are you kidding?

I turn and give Eric a careful look.  He was looking out the window.

“Eric.”  The silence stretched until I broke it with a slightly brittle laugh.  “Stormy was YOUR girlfriend?  Right.”  You were engaged to her.

Eric frowns at the question.  He gives me a tilted half smile, which I knew from experience  was not without its effect.

“I’m having a tough time telling you this,” Eric said

 

As a kid, my neighbor’s teenager threw a football at me.  It hit me like a bullet in the chest and knocked the wind out of me.  I fell to the ground, not able to catch my breath.  I was suffocating.

Only once again.  I was asphyxiated by my eyes.  By a picture worth a thousand words.  My husband Nick was naked!  His best friend Eric’s girlfriend, Stormy! Eric’s girlfriend the band groupie, Stormy? With a joint in her mouth, a beer in her hand, standing naked inside OUR tent.

Oh, my God.  Eric had told us that Stormy preys on older men.  She moves in with them to feed her gambling and booze addicition.

She owes IRS 25K  and goes under three different names!

After Eric told us that story, I remember asking “Why did you date her?’

He said, She’s a party girl. You know long legs..some hootchy-kootchy.    Hearing that from Eric is like chewing someone’s used gum found on the sidewalk.

I remember thinking what a dumb ass Eric was.  I went in one instant from being tolerant of Nick and his old high school friend to wondering what Nick saw in him as a Grown, Educated man.

I had known Eric, as long as I had know Nick.

The two of them were on the westling team together in High School.

On a Saturday, on a date with Nick the summer we met when I was 16, we went to see his best buddy, Eric.

Nick knocked on the door, and when Eric opened, he grabbed Nick and put him into a headlock.

The next thing I knew they knocked over the living room couch while I was still standing in the doorway.

Which I later learned was the Bell Clap, Body Blaster and Tilt A Whirl wrestling Cross-Body moves.

Eric has been in and out of our lives since the beginning.

39 years ago.

I called Eric.

 

 

 

Does he need another week?  I could feel my forehead wrinkling up, and a shiver went down my spine.  My mother used to say a shiver was when “someone walked over your grave.”

Nick said he had been depressed lately and in my best coach all-in-a-sincere voice I said, “Together we can do anything!  We are a team.  No worries.”  He kissed me, pulling me down and unzipping my jacket.  I was always surprised at how much he could do with one hand.

Without even thinking, I headed outside to the Barn where Nick kept his office.

Our small Gambreal-style Barn was built in the 1930’s.  You can see the Barn’s age when you go upstairs through an old door with a glass doorknob.  Upstairs in the Barn, dust was on everything.  Making it hard to see what was what.

Years ago, together , Nick and I grabbed brooms.  Then, we tried to sweep the dust out the hayloft door.  We ended up with dust all over us from head to toe.  We grinned at each other and started to do the Texas two-step since we were no longer city slickers.  That summer night, we had dust-free barn.  So, we laid a blanket down to look out the hayloft and the night of stars.

Nick explored the outline of my face.  A blond eyebrow arched playfully, “I love you,” he said. His strong arms embracing me as he took possession of my lips and heart.  Nick was not just my husband but also my “honey-do-weekend” handyman.  Nick helped his grandfather build a house in his teens and absorbed experience with hardware and electrical- you name it. I thought of us as I could cook anything and he could fix anything.

The best days of my life were not necessarily the days something tremendous or exciting happened, but the content I found in my home and family.

I saw his desktop computer in the barn office.  I sat at the desk and briefly looked at business papers, then turned on the computer.

We had no secrets. I knew all the passwords.  So first, I checked out our business email and then his personal email, which was always full of his main hobbies, karate and paragliding.

There is a new picture on his computer so I open it.

“Tout de suite”  Let me , let you know, that now and forever….I will never forget.

 

I drove home up to Two Pines and A Cone.  Our acre of land slopped and then went up a hill to our barn.  I  drove closer to our 2-story home with our wide expansive red deck.  My husband Nick chose the name, Two Pines and A Cone eighteen years ago,  for the two pines that loomed 50 feet on both ends of the house.

They represent Nick and me.  The cone was our 10-year-old-daughter, Paige.  I always smile so grateful to have property I love and can retire at. I parked my semi-new but nethertheless first sport’s car.  A Jaquar.  I never had so much fun driving.  I gave it a quick look then headed up the steps and into the French doors and yelled out, “Nick!”

Silence.

I dropped my purse onto the tiled hallway entry table and walked into the living room.  Our fabulous view of Mount Thomas from our floor-to-ceiling window was at its best on this sunny day with clear skies.

Nick had been traveling a lot lately.  I usually go with him.  I remembered the first time we entered a complimentary hotel suite during one of his speaking engagements.  The utermost beautiful fruit basket I had ever seen sat on the end of the table.  Overflowing with fresh fruit, expensive cheese, crackers, and gourmet chocolate truffles all wrapped up in a bright blue bow with a “Thank you note”.

There it was…Nick had reached the Top!  The star attraction in our business and my life.

“You made it, Nick.  You made it!”  I hollered, jumping up and down on the bed with my mouth full of grapes and throwing the rest at him.

Of late, he said he was too busy to sightsee (our favorite activity exploring new cities), and it is best that I stay home and make appointments on the phone for his subsequent speaking engagements.

Was that the office line ringing?  I ran down the hall to the study.  I grabbed the landline phone receiver.  Before I could say hello, I heard Nick’s voice say, “Jillie, Jillie.”

“Hey, Nick! Honey, how are you? I say softly as I pull out the office chair and sit down.  “Yeah, yeah, really busy.  I need another week here.”

“OH? “Well, we need to look at the calendar soon as I have booked many appointments for you.    You haven’t called me much, and I miss you.”

For the last couple of decades, the fellow called me more than once a day when we were not working in the office together.

“Jillie, um, yeah, the client is coming today. I could not make it yesterday, so I have got to go.    So, I’ll be back at the end of next week.

Dead Air.

I look at the receiver.   I put it back to my ear.

I looked at my watch and stood up  and out of the chair.

I call back on the landline.  A busy signal?

I hang up.

 

I hurried to get the door open and was immediately stopped.

The Bouncer at the latest new Bistro in town just asked me for my ID.   Me? A 57-year -old woman?  Me?  I put my arms around him. Squeezing him so hard he coughed.

“Your late!”  Cecilia said, as she glared at the Bouncer.

My best friend since Junior High School had that Bouncer turned around and me out of his arms in less then a second.

She glared at the Bouncer and clutched my elbow and up the steps to her table. “What the hell,” she said with a big grin.”

Today, she had invited me to this crowded new restaurant because she had won a contest, and lunch for two was free.  We dined on blacken seabase and indulgd in lemon drop cocktails.

“Ladies, would you like another Cocktail,” our eye-catching young waiter gleamed down at us.

Cecilia made a show of taking the last swig of her 3rd cocktail and leaned back in her seat, screwing up her face.

“Would you run through that dessert menu again?”  The waiter rattled off a list on his menu.  Cecilia listen indently then threw up her hands and said “nah”.

“Cecilia said she wanted to tell him to bring her a shot with a Beer Back.”

“Well Jillie, what do you think?” she said, pulling out a compact from her Givenchy handbag.

Then, Cecilia touchng up her lipstick, she gave me a sideways look.  I hesitated a bit, not quite sure if she meant her new yellow dress or her new yellow hair color.

“By the way, Jillie I am getting annoyed every time we meet for lunch and you keep getting younger.”

Cecilia had aged.  Don’t we all.  She still wore the pixie haircut of her teens and had  few frustrations in her life.  All though money was not one of them.  Cecilia was a Trust Fund baby.

“Your sweet,” I said.  I tugged at the waistline of my blue chiffon sleeveless top. ‘Damn it, ” I said. “I think I spilled.”  Cecilia dipped her cloth napkin in her water glass. “Here, this should help.”

“Thanks, CeCe.” (My nickname for her) We were two nerdy little girls years ago.

I think fond thoughts of our time together at Junior High.

We played records at top volume, trying to get down the new dance moves, and stole her mother’s makeup.

We spent every weekend riding bareback on her family’s horses.  Now I laugh) our in-depth discussions).

Always about if you could have sex with your clothes on?!

Bursting at the seams with food and love, we hugged goodbye in the mall outdoor parking lot.

It’s fun knowing someone for years.  And we had a wonderful day.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE continued

Zdunowski left my life and I could not be happier.

I was officially never at the end of the line again with my new name: Mrs. Jillie Aldridge.

There were some things I did not like about Nick.  He smoked a lot of pot.  And besides were just teenager’s he will grow out of his unhealthy habits, right?

Plus, I read somewhere this quote, “He can finish a snack pack of pudding without a spoon.”  That pretty much summed it up what I already knew…the sex was great.

Nick today is better looking that that pimply teenage boy.  He is handsome, funny man.

Every evening when we are lying in bed naked, I roll over to rest my heard on his chest.  My favorite part of his naked body is the soft spot high on his upper thigh.

It is like my plush plaything. Caressing it always relaxes me and helps me fall asleep.

I loved the name that Nick chose 18 years ago for our Dream Home. We called it Two Pines and a Cone.

The two pines loom 50 feet on both ends of the house, which stands for him and me.  And the Cone, at that time was our 10-year old daughter.

YIKES!

Oh, crap I just looked at the time.

I am going to be in so much trouble.

I am late.        I am late.      I am late

 

 

Be Gentle  to yourself.    You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars.  You have a right to be here.  And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with your soul.

FOUND IN OLD SAINT PAULS CHURCH BALTIMORE, MD  1692

 

The columns Overdone and Undercooked.com are archived on the website. Author, Shanna Young Eilers.

I have finished my Memoir!     A  memoir with flexibility changed names.

It starts with Chapter One and just for you – One Page Every Day!

 

 

January 1st  2026

 

When I was young, the only goal I had in life was to marry someone whose last name was at the beginning of the alphabet.

It was pure torture having the last name ZDUNOWSKI.  “Zdunowski get in the back of the line!”

Roll call in grade school was like waiting for Christmas.

Roll call in Junior high school was like slamming your finger in a doorway and anxiously waiting for the throbbing to stop.

Roll call in high school?

Well, the day’s I actually went to high school, I stood in the roll call line and watched one after another start to peel away until it was just me and Bobby Yates left as usual.

If only I were not me:  Miss Jillie Zdunowski.

Bobbie and I had gone from grade school to high school together.  We never had a class together.  We never spoke to each other.  We were like two hangtails that the pain worsened when you picked and pulled.

I suppose I should not have just given in and had an indulgent wallow in self-pity, however by the time I got to the rest of class I would miss the early part of lectures.

You get it.  So why bother.

I ended up just skipping class altogether.  That had a lot to do with my bad attitude and worst bad grades.

So, at barely turned nineteen I eloped with my boyfriend since i was sixteen. I did love Nick, but I also loved his last name ALDRIDGE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The cantaloupe hits the big time during its peak June through October. Believed to be a native of Asia he currently resides in warm and sunny California.  New in our town and only playing for these few weeks of summer, Cantaloupe is currently starring at your local produce department in “Fruit Cup” where he has teamed up with Honeydew and Watermelon.

 

Rich in vitamins A and C and potassium, and containing a fair amount of niacin and iron, he’s America’s answer to a sweet bargain for any dieter.  Half of a 5-inch melon provides the day’s requirement for vitamins A and C and has only 82 calories.  An incredible 825 milligrams of potassium along with low levels of sodium and fat, makes it the perfect treat for those concerned with blood pressure.

 

He’s everywhere you look but unfortunately he is still confined to bit parts such as this Scenario:  For many Americans, the fourth of July means fireworks, parades, picnics and watermelon.

 

I caught up with Mr. Cantaloupe backstage at Safeway’s produce bin.

 

The fact that watermelon is still number one at picnics, does that make you bitter?

 

Who me? I’m not bitter, I’m sweet. Ask Honeydew. Between you and me I’d say she was a little green with jealousy.

 

You and Honeydew were linked romantically for years. Is it all over between you?

 

We will always have our differences. But she is well loved, served plain or fancy.

 

Melon is a vegetable that is eaten as a fruit. Melons belong to the Curcurbitaceae botanical group that is also called the gourd family.

 

Yeah, what is your point?

 

Well, some could say you are quite rotund.

 

Big Deal. Look at Watermelon. He’s HUGE.

 

Well, no offense, but you are very difficult to tell when you are ripe.

 

Puh-leeze. Number one, a ripe cantaloupe has a characteristic sweet and delicate odor. If it’s not fragrant, leave it at room temperature for a few days to ripen. A well-rounded, much better word than rotund I might add, melon should have a depressed smooth scar at the stem end and a slight softness when pressed at the bottom end.

 

You do have a lot of seeds inside of you.

 

Implausible that some people think shaking my seeds around means I am ripe. You estimate a good melon by checking my underbelly.

 

Your underbelly?

 

Of course, that is the part that rested on the ground when I was growing.

A pale, yellow color indicates a ripe, flavorful melon. Green areas may be under ripe.

 

They say you are delicious snack. as well as an appetizer, dessert, or a main meal.

 

All that stuff, yeah. I’m really well rounded in that you can make dinner by scooping chicken salad inside my beautiful orange flesh or top me with ice cream. I have even been known to be peeled, sliced, and tossed with berries.

 

You know a very good treat on a hot summer day is to puree cantaloupe and make it into a sorbet.

 

You think so? I personally think that people are too quick to gobble me as a snack and do not appreciate the fact that I can come to the table as a gourmet meal.

 

How so?

 

Psst, come a little closer and I’ll tell ya. You know that cute little peach over there? She and I have been known to be good together. Peel one peach and cube 1/4 melon, sprinkle with lemon juice.

Place it in blender with 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice, grate an orange rind for a little zest, just a pinch or so, and my favorite part, 1/4 cup white wine.  Puree until smooth.  Add a little sugar to your taste.  Serve cold and you have a melon soup for one.  Use your good china naturally.

 

You may be a bit player, but your character will never go out of style.

 

Nah. I am here for the long run.  Hey, you see rhubarb over there? We were never a good match.  I think it had something to do with the fact she wasn’t well rounded enough.  How about you introduce me to that red heart plum…

Nothing is more exasperating to a Cook then a finicky eater!

You know the one who refuses to taste, try or cooperate, like Mothers-In-law.

It was a big day.  My first dinner for my in-laws.

The menu was perfect – Cornish Game Hens with Apricot stuffing, creamed Peas with Water Chestnuts and a light airy dessert.

Preparation took hours!  I toiled over the creamed peas, basted the hens with just the right amount of butter, and 7,549 hand mixed beats for the light airy dessert.

Exhausted but feeling proud.  We gathered at the table.

“Yum, yum,” grinned Father in-law. “Looks great hon,” quipped husband. 

Wiping the spots off the silverware, mother-in-law just smiled.

We were halfway through with dinner when husband said, “Gee Mom, aren’t you hungry?’

Nibbling On the Game Hen leg (the size of a sardine), she said, ‘I really prefer cold chicken, and have you ever been to “so and so’s oh my was the dinner good there.”

As I was wrapping her leftovers, I decided to start my first family tradition. 

When mother-in-law visits I hide those Creative Cookery books and exchange them for “Cooking with Canned Soup and Fun with Meatloaves.

Do you know what?  Family dinners have been a smash hit ever since!

BEST EVER MEAT LOAF

1 Can (10 1/2 oz.) condensed cream of mushroom or golden mushroom soup.

2 lbs., ground beef 

½ Cup fine dry bread crumbs

1-3 finely chopped onion

1 egg, slightly beaten

1 t salt  

1-3 cup of water

2 to 3 tablespoons drippings

Mix thoroughly ½ cup soup, beef, breadcrumbs, onion, egg and salt. 

Shape firmly into loaf in shallow baking pan. Bake at 375 degrees for one hour and 15 minutes.