“Anything I can do?”
She looked around the kitchen, suddenly looking less confident at the sight in front of her. Bowls and spoons were scattered across the island as well as a dirty cutting board and knives.
“Well, could you work on a salad while I get some rice going?”
Smiling, I got to work pulling all the ingredients we had onto the counter. We fell into a comfortable rhythm, like dance partners between appliances. Our conversation was light as we told each other funny stories from our childhood. Her laughter was infectious, and I enjoyed having some one-on-one time with her.
“So he was about to go tattle on me, but I poured water on him to make it look like he wet himself, so he couldn’t!” Macie howled at the memory of her and her younger brother.
“Oh shit, that’s cruel,” I said. “Sometimes I’m sad I’m an only child, but when I hear stories like that, it makes me change my mind. You were a she-devil.”
She turned from the stove, a kitchen towel in her hand, with a fake scowl on her face.
“Don’t call me that, or I’ll towel whip you!”
Grabbing my own weapon, I twirled it to perfection. But hers was wet, so I knew I was in trouble. We bounced back and forth like jousters, looking for our best shot. She took it, and I swerved out of the way just in time.
“For a big guy, you’re quick,” she said as she ran to the other side of the island.
“Yeah, well, plenty of years running plays on the football field’ll do that.”
She knew I was about to strike, and she wasn’t prepared to fight back. Her hoots and howls as I ran after her with my twisted towel made me laugh out loud as well. I was about to snap it in her direction, truly planning on missing, when we were stopped in our tracks.
“What’s going on here?” Ava asked.
Although her words were soft, they conveyed so much. Her disbelief came through with an edge of anger.
When our eyes connected, I saw something that speared my heart.
She was hurt.
But why?
“Ava!” Macie yelled. “You’re right on time. You can either grab a towel and help defend me in this war, or I could get back to making us dinner, your choice. Personally, it smells like my chicken might be burning.”
The smoke coming from over the stove wasn’t dark yet. I ran and pulled the pan from the burner, the food safe from disaster. I kept myself busy at the stove like a coward. It was easier than dealing with the version Ava who had come home.
“I decided to cook since Logan always cooks for us. I was able to get to the store.” Macie continued talking cheerfully, oblivious to the silent war now taking place between Ava and me. “Do you like chicken marsala?”
I went back to finishing up the salad as I waited to hear anything come from Ava’s mouth, but she remained quiet.
“Hey, Ave,” Macie said. Her voice got low as she walked out of the kitchen. “You OK?”
They were on the couch, talking quietly. I chose not to listen, knowing I likely had something to do with it.
And to be honest, I didn’t know how to do this anymore.
“That was delicious,Macie. Careful, you might be upgraded to chef in the house,” I said.
She and I cleared the table as Ava continued to sit. She was unusually quiet, especially for her, during dinner. No snarky comments, no rebuttals to anything I said. Yet the pain came through in her eyes.
“It’s so cool that you’ll be playing rugby,” Macie said. “We’ll come see you play once the games start.”
Her excitement made me eager for the season to get started, but it was still too cold. Training only for now. Training and parties. Most teams at any college were like their own fraternity. When not in season, they, of course, partied. I knew to expect it but hoped it would be less than a traditional fraternity.
At the meeting tonight, I met up with two players who also didn’t drink. It didn’t seem it was for any reason other than health and diet, but I was psyched to have guys to hang out with who would be sober with me.
“Yeah, I’m excited to have something else to do here at school, too. Keep my mind occupied, ya know?”
