Chapter 7
Rafe
“It’s Wal-mart,” Rafe said when they walked through the front doors. “Asda is Wal-mart.”
Rafe couldn’t believe there was a Wal-mart equivalent in England. It dulled some of the country’s luster, like every time he saw an American chainstore.
Except fornow.
Asda was the savior Rafe needed. He’d never been so happy to see discounted goods. Eamonn grabbed a cart and followed him to the foodsection.
“What do you want to make for your meals?” Eamonnasked.
Rafe hadn’t given that much thought on the train ride. He’d been transfixed by the British landscape, and he found that being in such proximity to Eamonn scrambled his circuits. It was like when two walkie-talkies were held up to each other and let out a high-pitched noise. And one of those walkie-talkies had scintillating blue eyes. After his talk with Louisa about Eamonn and his ex-boyfriend though, Rafe realized that the guy needed space. He was still healing. So he would keep his scrambling circuits tohimself.
“I can get cereal for one pound!” Rafe threw four boxes of Cheerio’s in the shoppingcart.
“You can’t just eat cereal every day. What do you want forlunch?”
Rafe stopped in the aisle, catching stolen glances at all the cheap food. He came to a realization he was afraid to say outloud.
“What do you usually make?” Eamonn asked. Rafe didn’t respond and looked at the floor. “Have you ever made yourself ameal?”
“Outside the dininghall?”
“Are you serious? Are you actually a real person, or are you a toddler full-grown like that Brad Pitt movie?” Even Eamonn’s scruff gawked athim.
“At home, my mom made all of my meals. She did all thecooking.”
“You’ve never cooked a meal in your bloodylife?”
Saying it out loud made it sound ridiculous, but it made sense to Rafe. This was how he grew up, as did most of his friends. When he awoke for school, there would be a bowl of cereal and a cut up banana waiting for him on the kitchen table. His mom would hand him his lunch or his dad would give him lunch money. And in evenings, when he was up in his room doing homework, or pretending to do homework, he would eventually smell the beginnings of a savory aroma brewing in the kitchen. It would get stronger, setting his stomach to rumble mode as he waited in anticipation for what would be in store downstairs. That’s just how it was in his house. In college, he remembered the surge of freedom he felt when he got to choose his own meals in the dining hall, a fact he would not repeat to Eamonn. He didn’t want to hear the sarcastic response to thattidbit.
“I’m assuming you’ve cooked all your meals ever since you walked out of thewomb.”
“Most of them,” Eamonn said with a smile that threatened to scramble more of Rafe’s circuits. “Mum’s a great cook, but her hours at the restaurant were a bit naff, so I wound up making dinner for me and my sisters. It was nothing revolutionary. I’d heat up some chicken in the oven and zap a bag of frozen vegetables in themicrowave.”
Rafe imagined Eamonn wearing an apron preparing a home-cooked meal. He was probably adorable with his sisters. Teasing, yet fiercelyprotective.
Eamonn’s face softened, and he gave Rafe a nudge with his elbow. “Well, there’s a first for everything. It’s all part of that global adventure you were discussing. Just think, somewhere in Zimbabwe, there’s a boy also learning how to cook.” He interlocked his fingers. “Connected.”
“Funny.”
Eamonn wheeled the cart through the maze of aisles. Rafe loved seeing all the pound and pence signs in the prices. He was probably the only one in Asda who appreciatedthem.
“So what’s the best meal you’ve ever made?” Rafeasked.
“Chateaubriand steak. It’s this meat you have to get just right. I made it for my first anniversarywith…”
“Nathan?”
Eamonn noddedyes.
“I’m sorry for asking about him at Apothecary the other night. I feel like aprize idiot.” Rafe said that last in his best cockney accent. That got a smile out of Eamonn, which could have illuminated all of Asda. “Nathan also sounds like a prize idiot,too.”
Eamonn’s non-response told Rafe that he was a lot worse. Louisa was right. He did not seem like a guy who did the casualthing.
“What about you? Do you have a boyfriend back home? A Chad orSkip?”
