Текст книги "Threefold"

Автор книги: Scott Hildreth

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

ETHAN

I stared up at the ceiling and studied the shadows. Because I refused to pull the blinds, the blue-white glow from the street lights never really allowed it to be totally dark in my bedroom. I preferred the dimly lit room much more than the darkness, it reminded me of moonlight. My choosing to let the light from the fifteen foot long, ten foot tall windows seep in allowed me to feel less confined; almost as if I were sleeping outside. I raised my hands to my chest, crossed my arms, and broke the awkward silence.

I rolled my head to the side and stared at the silhouette of her face against the almost spiritual glow the streetlights cast around her, “Describe yourself in one word.”

She tilted her head to face me, “What do you mean?”

“In one word, describe yourself,” I repeated.

“Short,” she laughed.

“That’s not a good description. Describe everything about you in one word. Not your height, but everything about you. Sum it up in one word,” I said under my breath as I continued to study her.

“Okay, hold on. Uhhm, I’d say…I’d have to say I was…Yeah, let’s go with this,” she hesitated and appeared to close her eyes.

As she opened her eyes, she continued, “Transparent.”

I uncrossed my arms, pressed my elbows into the mattress, and sat up, “What? Not at all. Try again.”

She rolled her head back and forth on the pillow, “You want accuracy? That’s my description. Now, it’s your turn.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll go with determined,” I responded.

“Nice to know,” she said as she gazed up at the ceiling.

Still sitting up in the bed, I crossed my arms and gazed down at her, “Now, back to what you said. Why would you describe yourself as transparent?”

She shrugged as she began to sit up, “I don’t know, maybe because for my entire life, no one paid any attention to me. It’s been kind of like I don’t exist. I think transparent is accurate. It’s like I’m invisible.”

I swallowed heavily as I thought of the difficult time she must have had as a child, “I’m sorry your feel that way.”

She turned her head and gazed out the window, “I don’t feel this way. It’s just how my life has been. My mother was beautiful, but eventually became addicted to morphine and pills. And I’d guess you’d have to call her an alcoholic; that is if you were going to call her anything. My stepfather was a monster. She wouldn’t protect me from him so I left.”

Although I wondered and felt compelled to ask, Cade and I had agreed not to ask her anything about her homelessness, and I intended to keep my promise. If she offered, I decided I’d listen, but I wasn’t going to push the subject. Now that she brought it up, I wanted to know more.

“When did you…or how old were you when you left?” I asked.

She turned to face me and stared with an expressionless face. I gazed at her, wishing I could see the blue in her eyes.

“Fifteen,” she responded flatly.

“You’ve been homeless ever since?” I asked.

“No, I moved out at fifteen. I lived with a girlfriend. She was going to go to the Community College in El Dorado after we graduated, so I moved out when high school was over. After about six months on my own, I lost my job and…well…I couldn’t make it with bills and stuff. I just…I don’t know, being homeless seemed easier. There’s very little pressure,” she shrugged.

“So this might sound weird, but do you like it? Being homeless?” I asked.

“I’ve been telling myself so for four years. I started out east, and eventually moved south. I’d been living on the south side for a little more than a year. It got pretty rough. I uhhm. Well…yeah…glad that’s over. So, finally, I’d had enough of it and moved downtown. Probably about the time you saw me the first time. You said you saw me a month ago, right?” she asked as she ran her hands through her hair.

I swallowed a lump which had developed in my throat and nodded my head.

“Yeah,” I responded dryly.

“Well, that’s when I moved here. I decided I needed a change. I’ve been sleeping wherever I can find a place; it’s easy in the summer, but winter’s a real bitch. I just didn’t really want to go to that park or the bridge at Kellogg. I kept telling myself things were going to change for me, but coming down here made me realize things weren’t going to change for me because I moved,” she paused and sighed deeply.

“If I wanted to see change, I was going to have to make it. I just haven’t come up with a plan yet,” she said.

“You said the south side was pretty rough. What was, well, what was different about it?” I asked.

She turned toward the window and stared for a long moment before she responded. Eventually, the words came in a quiet, almost monotone voice, “There were these guys. They forced me to do things. Bad things. This one, he was the uhhm, kind of like the leader. He kept finding me, over and over. So he took me to this old building, and he uhhm. He said…he told me it was where I had to stay…for the uhhm, well, at night. If I left, he’d find me. That’s what he said. He’d find me. And then, one day it wasn’t one of them. It was just…” she paused and swallowed audibly.

I was beginning to feel almost sick. The thought of what she must have been through began to sink in. Before I could arrange words to express my feelings, she continued.

“It was a blur. Like just over and over. I thought it wasn’t going to end. Then I woke up, and there was no one there. I laid there for a long time. I slept a lot. It was like it sucked life out of me. I couldn’t even stand up for a long time. I don’t know. Maybe three or four days or so I was in there, wondering if they were going to come back the whole time. I drank uhhm. They uhhm, they left some of their beers and stuff. I don’t know. So, finally I got up and…yeah. So that’s when I came here.”

I pressed my biceps into the backs of my hands and squeezed my chest with my forearms as I glanced beyond her and toward the building across the street. Comprehending being homeless, and attempting to understand magnitude of her life and what she had lost – once I started to think about it seriously – was extremely difficult if not completely impossible. Attempting to do so caused me to feel selfish for thinking I had any problems at all.

“It goes without saying, but I’m uhhm. I’m sorry,” I hesitated and cleared my throat, “If you got to pick, you know, if you could snap your fingers and change things, would you choose to be homeless?” I asked.

She glanced over her shoulder and chuckled, “I don’t get to pick.”

“Sure you do,” I responded.

She shook her head, “I don’t. But to answer your little fantasy, no I wouldn’t. I’d be married to some guy who rode a Harley, and cooked that bad-ass corn shit, what was it called? Elote?”

She hesitated and grinned. I sat in somewhat of a trance, wondering just what it was she meant by the statement, but afraid to ask for fear of getting an answer I didn’t want to hear.

She shifted her weight on the bed and began to pick at her fingernails as she spoke, “That’s a joke by the way. Well, kind of. If I got to pick, I’d want a guy who is big enough, tough enough, and mean enough to protect me from the monsters in this world; and believe me, there’s a lot of monsters. But the thought of having a man who is sensitive, kind, and has enough patience to touch me, caress me, and love me…now that’s what I’d want. Yeah, I want that.”

She hesitated and tilted her head toward me, “But if he was a pussy, it’d never work. The thought of being with a pussy just seems weird. So, I’d want a tough fucker with a soft side. Oh, and he’d have to be willing to at least act like he loved me. I need to know what it really feels like to be loved. Now it’s my turn. Are you single, and if so, why?”

As I thought of the simplicity of making Cade’s elote, I considered my response carefully. Her off-hand remark of being married actually aroused me. Not in a sexual sense, but in a sense of this lasting longer than one night. After struggling with my response for what seemed like an unusually long period of time, I began to babble.

“Yes, I am. I was married. I recently got divorced, and just haven’t felt a desire or need to try and move on.”

“Define recent,” she said.

“Oh, the divorce? Uhhm, two years in July,” I nodded.

“That’s recent?” she coughed.

I shrugged my shoulders, “As far as I’m concerned, yeah.”

“Age?” she asked.

“Me or her?”

“Seriously? I’m sorry, but I don’t give a fuck about your ex. I want to know about you,” she said as she shook her head.

“32,” I sighed.

“Fucking youngster,” she said flatly.

I nodded my head and smiled, “I like to think so.”

She turned and gazed out the window again. After a short pause, she spoke. “Can I ask?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure, ask me anything. What are you thinking?”

“Why? Why the divorce?”

I exhaled audibly and rolled my eyes.

“Money. She left me for more money,” I hesitated, narrowed my eyes, and gazed into my open closet.

After a moment of staring at my shirts, I continued, “I work on motorcycles at a shop down on south Broadway. It’s seasonal. I make a lot of money doing it, but she spent a lot, and well, it’s seasonal. So in the off-season, I just dick around with odd jobs and work on a few bikes here in the heated basement. Basically, in the winter, I don’t leave. I don’t know, I guess she just wanted more money than I could give her. She was pretty high maintenance.”

She turned to face me and shrugged her shoulders, “Fuck her, you deserve better.”

“You don’t even know her,” I responded, “How can you say that?”

“I don’t need to know her. Were you working on bikes when you met?” she asked.

I nodded my head and crossed my arms, “Yeah, kind of. I was going to college and working on bikes on the side. It was how I paid my tuition. I got a little of a late start in college, didn’t graduate until I was 26. But yeah, we met at college. I see where you’re headed, so yeah, she knew.”

Her eyes widened and she smiled, “You went to college?”

I lifted my chin slightly, “Sure did. I’ve got a piece of paper that says I’m a mechanical engineer. It’s where I met Cade. Go figure, huh? I always wanted to design my own bikes. Like I said, I’m determined. I received my degree and went to work at an independent bike shop. One day I’ll have my own shop, but not here. Somewhere warm.”

She raised her hands to chest level and turned her palms upward, “What I was going to say was if she knew you were working on bikes, and she knew your dream was to work on bikes, and you kept working on bikes afterward, she had no right to bitch about it. You deserve better. It’s like a girl deciding to date a porn star, and later complaining that he fucks other girls. Duh, you married a porn star, you dumb bitch.”

“You’ve got a good point,” I agreed.

She gazed down at the comforter and sighed. As she turned to face me, she tilted her head slightly and brushed her hair behind her ears.

“You’re a great looking guy, you’re obviously smart, and you’re determined. You can have anyone you want. Forget her.”

“Thanks. I just, I don’t know. I think I had some false understanding that marriage lasted forever. I’m a hopeless romantic. Some people place little or no value in marriage. I took the shit far too serious, I guess. Till death do us part is a fucking joke. Till you piss me off or till I want more than you can give me is more like it,” I paused and ran my hands through my hair.

I scratched my scalp with my fingertips as I shook my head. I knew I was a much better person than what my feelings depicted, but the feelings of worthlessness remained regardless. Chloe’s leaving me made me feel more than rejected, it caused me to feel inadequate and incapable.

I leaned onto my pillow and gazed out the window into the street, “She made me feel inadequate and ugly. In fact, when she left, she told me to cut my hair and maybe I’d have better luck with the next one. You know, it made me wonder if there were a few more reasons for her leaving than she had actually explained.”

“Don’t cut your hair,” she snapped.

I rolled my eyes and laughed, “I already did. This is the short version.”

She shook her head slowly as she arched her back. It was apparent she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tee shirt hung from her perky breasts which were outlined by the glow from the streetlights. As she twisted her upper body to face me, the small shadows cast across the front of her chest caught my attention. I turned my head slightly, glanced toward her obviously erect nipples one more time, and nervously shifted my gaze to the window.

“Fucking bitch. Sorry, but she’s an idiot. Like I said, you deserve better, and you can have anyone you want. Get over her and move on. It’s been two years, right?”

I nodded my head, “Yeah. Two.”

I glanced in her direction. Looking at her now, thinking of her being the homeless girl from the bench downstairs was almost impossible. She was beautiful, seemed somewhat intelligent, and was entertaining to talk to. Not at all what I would have expected a homeless person to be, but my preconceived notions were based on opinion, not fact.

“Okay. Moving on, let’s see…” I paused and turned my body to face her.

As her eyes met mine, I continued, “I want to get to know you. Spend some time with you. You said I can have anyone I want? I want to get to know you. Think about that, okay.”

Her mouth curled into a smile. She blinked her eyes a few times. Although it was difficult to tell for certain, it appeared her eyes began to fill with tears. Quietly, she sat and stared. Eventually, she turned away from me and gazed out the window.

“My friend Christina’s mom said something once, and it stuck with me. Everything happens for a reason. I kind of believe that. Do you really want to know me?” she asked.

“Yes, I do,” I responded.

She turned her head slightly. Her hair hung over her face, revealing her chin, cheek, and nose. She cleared her throat, swallowed, and continued, “Because I’m some complicated homeless girl and you feel sorry for me, or you’re intrigued by my homelessness?”

I shook my head and reached for her shoulder, “No. because you’re a person who interests me.”

She shifted her eyes toward the window, “Why?”

I gripped her shoulder lightly, “Initially, I’d say it was your beauty. Now? Hell, now you could be ugly as fuck and I’d still want to get to know you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” she breathed.

I nodded my head and slid my hand down to her bicep, “Yes, I do.”

“Okay, I’m done thinking,” she sighed.

“About?” I breathed.

“You said you wanted to get to know me, and for me to think about it. I’m done thinking,” she said as she titled her head to the side.

I slid my hand up her arm and across her shoulder, “And…?”

“I want that too,” she responded as she pressed her cheek into the back of my hand.

Our getting to know each other began immediately, and continued for what appeared to be roughly an hour. After discussing music, relationships, the importance of dental hygiene, our hatred for awkward silences, and the benefits of living in a warm climate, I felt as if Chloe had finally left me, and someone else was slowly beginning to take her place.

Fully realizing Rain and I were not in a relationship, nor anywhere near beginning one, I still found comfort in the feeling of having her open up to me was providing. Even though we weren’t together, there was something about her presence that provided me with a strange comfort I hadn’t felt since I was a kid.

“Where would you choose if it could be anywhere?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders as if I had not thought about it much. Truthfully, I had. My dream was Monterrey, California.

“Monterrey. Out in California. It’s along the coast, but far enough north that it’s away from all of the idiots. It’s beautiful,” I responded.

“Have you been there?” she asked.

“Never been out of this shit-hole state,” I responded.

“Me neither,” she grinned.

“Grow up here?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said, “Well, basically. Pretty close to here, but in this state, yes.”

“Brothers? Sisters?” she asked.

“Nope,” I responded.

“Me neither,” she said.

As I stared at the ceiling for a moment and thought of having my own shop in the warmth of California’s sun, the room began to brighten considerably. Feeling confused, I sat up and turned toward the window. An orange glow along the dark horizon confirmed my suspicion. I chuckled, relaxed onto my pillow, and clasped my hands behind my head.

“What?” she asked as she studied me.

“The sun’s coming up,” I said with a laugh.

Still sitting up on the bed, she pursed her lips, crossed her arms over her chest, and sighed.

I tilted my head to the side, “What’s wrong?”

She gazed down into my eyes, “That means this is over. I was really enjoying it.”

“Over? As far as I’m concerned, we’re just getting started. I probably should take a shower before Cade gets up. Shit, his alarm will be going off in a half hour or so,” I said as I sat up.

“Too bad the water’s free here,” she chuckled.

“Why’s that?” I asked as I stood and stretched my arms over my head.

“Makes trying to convince you to conserve water and let me shower with you kind of difficult,” she responded.

Strangely, my mind didn’t immediately begin thinking about sex. I imagined what she might look like naked, and began to imagine washing her back and shoulders. Without a doubt, the thought of having sex with her excited me greatly, but to have sex with her would make me all too predictable. Her current situation, her background, and her complicated loveless past told me to avoid sex at all costs, at least for now. As I realized I hadn’t responded to her half-assed offer, I felt like somewhat of a fool.

“Sounds fun,” I responded.

I raised my hand in the air, extended my index finger, and coughed a laugh, “And although I hope one day we reach a point we’re both comfortable doing it, right now I’m thinking it’s not a good idea.”

“You’re probably going to think I’m full of shit, but I like that response,” she said under her breath.

As I studied the outline of her face against the glow of the slowly rising sun, I realized although meeting Rain was in no way what I had planned, it was exactly what I needed when I desperately needed it most.

Her friend Christina’s mother may have been right.

Maybe everything does happen for a reason.

RAIN

It had been a little more than a week since I first met Ethan. Every night since meeting him, after work, he stopped at my bench and I rode with him up the elevator. As much as I had come to enjoy our nights of eating dinner together, I knew at some point in time it would end. Eventually, everything in life does. For now, however, I decided to enjoy each and every minute of my time with Ethan and Cade fully, and cherish my memories of mingling with the two kindest men I had ever met.

This evening had begun differently than the others, and Cade had stopped at my bench on his way home, asking if I would help him with dinner. I eagerly agreed, and after washing my hands and listening to his specific instructions, was preparing to whip some Thai Peanut Sauce into edible condition.

“Okay, I have everything in here, now what?” I asked as I pushed the lid onto the top of the food processor.

“Here, let me show you,” he responded.

He reached over my shoulder, checked to make sure the lid was secure, and pressed the button on the front of the contraption. The mixer began to buzz, and the ingredients started to swirl. Immediately, he pressed the stop button.

“That’s it. Just press that button and let them mix until it’s smooth and creamy. Check it periodically with the spatula,” he said as he slid the spatula across the counter.

“Okay,” I said as I pressed the button, starting the processor spinning once again.

As I watched the ingredients mix together into one, I turned to him and grinned, “What if a person doesn’t keep agave nectar in their house?”

“Then they can’t make a good peanut sauce,” he shrugged.

I turned toward him and chuckled, “So, if you don’t have it, you’re screwed?”

“I suppose you could use honey or light syrup, but it wouldn’t be the same as far as I’m concerned,” he responded over his shoulder.

“What’s in that sauce?” I asked as I tossed my head toward the bowl he was mixing sauce in.

He glanced in the bowl, and shifted his eyes to meet mine, “Sweet soy sauce, chili oil, garlic, and onions. It’s for the wontons.”

“What wontons?” I asked as I stopped the food processor.

I removed the lid and stirred the mixture with the spatula. Everything appeared to be mixed very well.

“You’re going to make them in a minute,” he nodded.

Standing behind me, he placed each of his hands on my upper arms, and rested his chin on my shoulder as he peered over me and into the top of the processor. Although my first impression of Cade may have been influenced by my immediate attraction to Ethan, I saw him as cute, but cute in a puppy kind of way. After spending time with him cooking, I saw him with an entirely different set of eyes. I found it funny how my thoughts had changed, but now I was seeing him as a very attractive man who was simply neat and very well put together.

“Okay, your sauce looks good. Now, come here and let me show you what’s next,” he said as he moved his hands away from my arms.

I turned to face him. What we were doing was what I had always hoped as a girl my mother would do with me. Cade was sharing one of his obvious pleasures in life with me; cooking. In doing so, he was teaching me his techniques and processes. Although it wasn’t something I expected from meeting these two men, I was enjoying it immensely.

“Hold your hand out,” he said as he lifted a small piece of thin dough from the counter.

He laid the dough flat onto my palm. As I stared down at it, he gave his instructions.

“Okay, take the spoon, and get a spoonful of the meat mixture I made, and spoon it onto the dough, but make it slightly off center,” he said as he motioned to the bowl of meat he had mixed while I was making the sauce.

I spread a spoonful of meat onto the little square dough. As I looked up, Cade began to laugh as if I had made a grave mistake.

“No, don’t spread it on the dough, just drop it onto it. Watch,” he chuckled as he lifted a little square of dough from the counter.

“Like this,” he said as he used his thumb to drop the meat from the spoon onto the dough.

“Take your free hand and dip your finger in the water, and wipe your finger around the edges. Then, fold it like this,” he said as he folded the dough in half.

“Pinch the edges, and set it down on the cutting board,” he said as he pinched the edges and held it for me to see.

I smiled and nodded my head as I attempted to scoop the meat into a pile in the center of my wonton. After dipping my finger in the water, I folded it, pressed the edges, and laid it onto the flour covered board beside Cade’s. I stared at the two wontons. Mine was flat and Cade’s was poofy. Obviously I needed more practice.

“Okay, make all of those,” he said as he tilted his head toward the pieces of dough, “I’m going to start the chicken. He just texted me, he’s on his way.”

“When you’re done, spoon the peanut sauce into that bowl, and I’ll explain cooking the wontons. You’re going to cook them, okay?” he said as he began poking wooden skewers through the pieces of chicken.

“Okay,” I shrugged.

Helping Cade cook had become much more than a pleasant surprise. As we proceeded, I began to feel useful, normal, and as if he really cared about having me help him. He certainly didn’t need my help, but the fact he wanted it was well received. As I continued to make the wontons and carefully lay them side by side on the board, I wondered just what I had done to deserve meeting two very unique and caring men. After washing his hands and drying them on a towel, Cade rested his chin on my shoulder again.

“Okay, listen carefully. Ready?” he breathed into my ear.

The feeling of his warm breath on my neck and ear caused me to shudder. As I tilted my head toward his face, he breathed into my neck again playfully.

“Ready...?” he breathed, drawing the word out for several seconds.

I wiggled my shoulders, freeing myself from him, and stomped my feet lightly on the floor, “Stop. That drives me nuts.”

“That’s good to know, I’ll use it to my advantage. Okay, no more playing, back to business,” he said as he flipped his head back, clearing the hair from in front of his eyes.

“The chicken is cooking. The timer will beep when it’s done. When it does, just take the tray from the oven, and set it aside. The rice is in the skillet, and needs nothing. Now, that big pot has boiling water in it. When you drop the wontons in, it’ll stop boiling. Let it come back to a boil, stirring it lightly, just to keep them from sticking, okay?”

Somewhat confused on why he was explaining about all of the food, I nodded my head, “Okay.”

“Then, when it comes back to a boil, pour that little cup of cold water into it,” he said as he pointed to the measuring cup of water beside the stove.

“Okay,” I said.

“Let it come back to a boil again, and do the same thing. After it boils again, remove them carefully with this spoon,” he said as he waved a spoon filled with holes in front on my face.

“Okay. Drop them in, back to boiling, cold water, back to boiling, and then cold water again?” I asked.

“You’ve got it, and back to boiling. Then remove ‘em, and split them three ways in the little bowls filled with cabbage.

“Okay,” I nodded.

“That’s him,” he said as I heard the sound of someone turning a key in the door lock.

He leaned into me and kissed my cheek. As I stood in slight shock and stared, he whispered quick instructions, “Three pieces of the chicken on each plate, rice beside the chicken, split the wontons evenly. You’ll be fine”

My eyes widened as Cade ran from the kitchen and flopped down onto the couch. As I heard Ethan walking inside, he began to complain to Cade.

“Dude, Rain wasn’t down on the bench. Did you see her today?” he asked as he walked into the house.

I smiled and stood silently as I made wontons.

After a few more footsteps, we were eye-to-eye, gazing at each other over the bar which separated us. Ethan’s eyes narrowed and his mouth formed a huge smile as I dropped the last wonton on the board.

“Sure did,” Cade said over his shoulder as he flipped through the channels on the television.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asked as he pulled off his jacket.

“She’s cooking our dinner, leave her alone,” Cade hollered.

“Cooking,” I responded, trying unsuccessfully to keep from smiling.

“What?” he asked.

“Uhhm, chicken, wontons, and fried rice. Oh, and peanut sauce,” I grinned as I lifted the board of wontons and turned toward the stove.

“No shit. Fuck, my favorite. Cade, you’re not helping her?” Ethan asked as he walked past me and toward his room.

I gazed at Cade, and waited for him to respond.

After Ethan passed, Cade looked over his shoulder and winked, “No. She said she doesn’t want help.”

I grinned as I gazed down at my dingy sneakers.

Okay, carefully put them in the water, and back to boiling.

Using the back of the spoon, I carefully flipped the wontons into the water. After they were all in, the water stopped boiling, just like Cade said. After a few minutes of stirring, it slowly came back to a boil.

Pour in the cup of cold water.

The water stopped boiling. As I continued to stir the wontons, the timer on the top of the oven beeped, startling me slightly. After a few seconds of searching, I grabbed the oven mitt and removed the tray of chicken from the oven and set it on the countertop. As I turned back toward the stove, the water was beginning to boil again. As if I was a seasoned cook in an Asian restaurant, I turned to the sink and filled the cup with cold water. Over my shoulder, I noticed Ethan quietly watching me from his seat at the bar. I turned from the sink, smiled, and poured the water into the pot. As I waited for the water to come to a boil for the last time, Ethan cleared his throat.

Okay, let the chicken sit, and put three pieces on each plate, with rice and split the wontons three ways…

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” he said.

I shrugged my shoulders and twisted my mouth to the side, “I don’t.”

As soon as the water came to a boil, I removed the pot from the stove and set it on the bar. After carefully lifting the wontons with the spoon and allowing the water to drip free, I placed them in the pre-prepared bowls of shredded cabbage Cade had placed on the counter. As soon as I was done, I laid three pieces of the skewered chicken on each plate, and removed the rice from the stove. As I spooned a healthy helping of rice on each plate, Cade walked into the kitchen.

“Looks wonderful, need any help?” he asked as he leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“You sure you’re not gay?” I whispered as I stared down at the plates.

“I heard that,” Ethan chuckled, “He’s not gay, he just acts like it.”

“Just stop it, Ethan. I was just seeing if she needed help,” Cade sighed.

“Here, let me put this sauce in a bowl,” Cade said as reached for the food processor.

Ethan walked past me, opened the refrigerator, and got a bottle of beer. After twisting off the lid and taking a sip, he walked up behind me and peered over my shoulder toward the plates.

“Smells good, is it ready?” he asked.

“Go sit down, we’ll bring it to you,” Cade snapped.

As Cade spooned the sauce into a small bowl, he tossed his head to the side, looked up, and smiled. As he turned to face Ethan, the smile turned to a scowl.

“Go! Get out of the way,” he snarled toward Ethan.

“Whatever, dude,” Ethan grunted at he turned and walked toward the dining table.

Cade picked up one of the plates and the two bowls of sauce. After nodding his head in the direction of the other two plates, I picked them up and followed him to the dining table. As he placed the bowls and plate on the table, he turned toward the kitchen.

“I’ll get us some water, sit down Rain,” he said over his shoulder.

Cade had already placed napkins and silverware on the table. Although I realized I hadn’t cooked the entire meal, as I sat down, I wondered what it would taste like, and how Ethan would react when he ate it. The wontons and the peanut sauce were my main worries, and any criticisms about the rice, sauce Cade had prepared, or the chicken wouldn’t bother me too much. As Cade handed me my glass of water, he nodded his head toward my plate.