She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Totally fine.”
Her hand rested on her heart, as if she was worried about how fast it was beating.
What the hell had we been talking about before that whole fiasco? Food. Right.
“Um, so if you’re okay with it, then I’ll make you something.” Growing up, I’d never cooked anything. We’d always had a chef or housekeeper or someone whose job it was to cater to all our whims. It wasn’t until college that it occurred to me that a lot of my peers already knew how to make a meal in the microwave, and I didn’t. Since someone else had always done it for me, I’d assumed it required a few more steps. A kind roommate helped me out and didn’t make fun of me when I was worried about overcooking the noodles.
“You can’t really mess it up. Unless you forget to add water,” she told me.
I started with microwave nachos and noodles, and then graduated to spaghetti and seasoned chicken strips and broccoli roasted in the oven. It took a while before I could comfortably cut an onion, but I got there using a combination of video tutorials and cooking shows.
No one really knew about it, but I’d been quietly proud of myself. For figuring my shit out. For being independent when all my life I’d been trained to pay someone else to do the things I didn’t want to do. It would have been easier. Not cheaper, that’s for sure, but what were a few ruined pans when I could make a steak the exact medium rare that I liked?
Vail leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. “Oh, you’re going to cook for me? I didn’t know you could.”
Her response was playful, but it still stung.
“Canyou?” I fired back.
She smirked. “I learned.”
“So did I.”
I wondered what her early experiments had looked like. If they’d been as bad as mine. If she’d set off the fire alarm more than I had.
When we’d been young, it had seemed like the only thing we’d had in common was that we lived in the same house, but there had been so much more than that.
It wasn’t too late to find out just how alike we were.
* * *
“Oh my god. This is unbelievable.”She spoke around a mouthful of the gnocchi I’d made from scratch. It had a lemony pesto sauce with asparagus, zucchini, and chicken. Making pasta always made me feel connected with the universe or history or something.
“I can’t believe you made this,” she said, cramming more into her mouth. I had to admit, her enjoyment of what I’d made was the best reward.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a bite. Itwasgood. This was one of those recipes that I’d made so many times I didn’t even need to measure anything.
We mostly ate in silence because the food took all our concentration.
Once we finished dinner, we had brownies and ice cream with butterscotch and sprinkles on top. The brownies were from a box, but I’d figured out a few tricks to make them extra delicious and Vail loved the dessert almost as much as the pasta.
A warm glow settled into my stomach that had nothing to do with the food as we sat on her couch together and watched the kittens sleep piled on top of each other where they’d passed out on the floor mid-play.
“You don’t have to come to the wedding with me if you don’t want to,” Vail said after a few moments of contented silence.
“No, it’s fine. Really. I get why you want to do it.” Wasn’t what I would do, but I understood. I guess I wanted to help her do this. She’d exploded her way back into my life like a falling star and now I couldn’t see anything besides her. Initially, I’d been upset at seeing her again, but now…
Things were very different. Things had changed.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I am.” My words were true. I wanted to do it. For her.
She smiled and it made my entire body tingle. Her smile had me utterly undone. I didn’t know how to function when she looked at me like that.
“I really like your hair like this,” I told her. All I wanted was to reach out and touch it. See if it was as silky as it looked. But I kept my hands to myself.
“Oh. Thanks,” she said, picking up a few strands and looking at them.
