it's the Fourth!

It was Omaha's birthday.

He didn't want Sheena to make a big deal about it, but she needed too. It was her day off to do something good for someone, instead of a blah day watching everyone else have fun.

Of course, she wanted to know what kind of cake he wanted.

"Cherry cheesecake." He told her.

Naturally, Sheena thought it would be complicated to tackle, but he showed her a recipe on the back of a cream cheese box and grabbed a graham-cracker crust (already made in the cake isle) and a can of cherry pie filling.

"This will be all, you'll need." He promised.

"Really?"

He nodded.

It was still early in the day.

"Don't, you want to do something?" She asked.

He looked at her with open eyes as if she was being weird.

"Its the Fourth."

"I know." Her eyes were patience.

"Barbecue." He then said, as he turned to the meat isle. He came across the rib section. "If I get these on and smoke them all day, then it'll be ready for Taylor and what's her face, when they get home."

"What's her face?" Sheena winced.

"I keep forgetting her name." Omaha finally admitted. "Taylor talks about her all the time. And I haven't even met her."

Taylor was picking his fiancee up from the airport, and they were having lunch at her parents.

"Sara?"

"Yeah..yeah.." He sounded as if his days would be numbered. He'd have to move from Taylor's basement.

"You know, Taylor probably couldn't afford the house payments, if you weren't living there." She informed him.

He grabbed a couple of more packs of ribs.

"We need beans." He said, but he wasn't going for cans of baked beans. He got the ones in a plastic bag that would need to cook most of the day, but he said he knew a short cut for that, too.

Sheena told him, they might need more than one cheesecake, but Omaha was a man on a mission.

"Slow down." She couldn't keep up with him, as he raced on with the grocery cart through produce. "Where did you learn to do all this kind stuff? Its like you're cooking for an army?" She practically fell on his backside when he came to stop in front of the onions.

"C o c k fights." Those two little words stung Sheena, who looked at him blankly.

"What?" Omaha asked. She stood by the grocery cart in total shock.

"I dunno if my cousin does it anymore. Hopefully, not." Omaha shrugged. "But we could make a good bit of money, just sitting out a bucket. People are hungry who come to a c o c k fight. We could easily make 500 hundred bucks, tops."

"Wow." She didn't know. What else had he not told her?

He hurried her along. They needed to start smoking the meat. He grabbed some brown sugar, red pepper and cinnamon.