She shrugged. “We didn’t have a lot of money. We made things we could stretch. Soups. Stews. Stuff with potatoes and ramen noodles.”
“My grandmother has the best lasagna recipe,” I said. “Even if you’ve had lasagna before, you’ve never hadthislasagna.”
She tilted her head. “I’ve heard the word lasagna. And I know it’s an Italian food because I’ve seen the Olive Garden commercials. We don’t serve it at the diner, and I never made it with Mother.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll grab the ingredients, and we can make it at your place. You have things like pans and baking dishes?” I couldn’t assume anything.
She laughed. “I have a pot. And a couple of plates.”
“No problem. I’ll bring what I need.”
“It’s a date.” She glanced at the diner door. “I’m late, and Big Harry is a brute.”
“Don’t I know it.”
She leaned in for a super-fast kiss, and my heart sped up. It was so easy, so natural, but after a year without it, this kiss, and every kiss, felt like a miracle.
As I headed to the bus stop, I suddenly understood the urge of people in old-fashioned movies to jump in the air and click their heels.
I sure felt like it. I glanced around. There were a few people wandering First Street. Who cared? I jumped in the air, and wouldn’t you know it, my heels connected.
Someone behind me whooped, and I waved.
Yes, this day was a good one.
Gram was meeting some of her friends the night Ava and I chose for the lasagna dinner, so she dropped me offat Ava’s apartment rather than having me lug all my kitchenware on the bus.
I wanted to drive again, but that seemed completely out of reach.
“I can come and fetch you after,” she said as I opened the door.
“No need. I’ve got this.”
Her smile got tight. “Call me if you don’t feel well.”
“I’ll be fine. I really will, Gram.”
I knew she was glad to see me out of my room. But at the same time, she also knew how bad things were. My migraine meds were nearly empty, but we couldn’t refill them for another two weeks. Because of the way I was hoarding and over-ingesting them on Ava days, she was worried.
I was too. But this was more important.
When Ava opened her door, I smiled at seeing her wearing all black, as usual. Her hair was down today though, so she looked more like the Ava I once knew.
“I only have that one shirt that isn’t black, and I wore it on our last date,” she said flatly.
I leaned in to brush my lips against hers. “You look perfect.”
Her brows drew together as if she wasn’t sure she could believe the compliment. “Let’s check out your kitchen skills,” she said.
I followed her through the ramshackle apartment with its lawn chairs and crates. I pictured my family’s old coffee table there. And the gliding rocker Mom loved. I should get them soon. I wanted those things for her. I wanted to imagine the two lives I loved coming together, even without me.
I slid the paper bag onto the counter and began pullingout the contents. Gram and I had assumed nothing. I had a pan for browning the meat. A spatula. The big pot for making sauce, and later, boiling the noodles. A large bowl to mix the cheeses.
I slid a cutting board and knife toward her. “You can cut up the tomatoes.” I passed her the bag.
She dug out the tomatoes and took them to the sink to be rinsed, while I arranged the spices along the counter. Soon, her kitchen smelled of the aromatic sauce.
“It’ll be a while before we need to do the next step.” I took her hand. “Want to listen to music?”
