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After I slip on my clothes from yesterday, I go up to my room and freshen up. My second suitcase is still full, and I’m glad I brought extra jeans and sweaters. After I change, I put on my slippers and make my way downstairs where Ryan is pouring two cups of coffee.
“You look nice,” he says and hands me a mug.
“Thank you.” I take it and stare at it. “I imagine there’s no cream, right?”
“Actually, there are some creamer singles in the pantry. Once they’re gone though, that’s it.”
I’m so excited, I nearly jump out of my skin. When I walk into the pantry, I scan around and immediately find them close to the top shelf. Standing on my tiptoes, I reach up and pull the small container down. There are about twenty little plastic cups of creamer, but if the snow alert is any indication of how long we might be here, I need to be conservative so I only grab a few. This might last me a few days at best.
I go back to kitchen and notice Ryan leaning against the counter. He’s holding his coffee in one hand and phone in the other. When I catch a glimpse of him, I instinctively chew on my bottom lip because for as long as we’re here, he’s mine.
“Did you want some?” I offer and hold out my hand.
He shakes his head. “No thanks. I like it just how it is.”
“Not sure how. The only time I’ve ever drank my coffee black is when I tried dieting fads. Wasn’t easy having a best friend who had the paparazzi taking pictures every time we went out,” I admit, peeling back the top and pouring the cream. “Way too many pictures with bad angles were printed for my taste.”
He gives me a look, but I can’t read him. “You’ve always been gorgeous, Kendall. And fuck the paps.”
“It’s hard not to feel self-conscious, though. I avoided the limelight as much as possible. I know how it affected Cami’s life. Hell, mine too when I was with her,” I say.
“Yeah, and everyone wonders why I broke away from all of that. I’m the forgotten child, and while my parents would love to rope me into their fundraiser pictures and everything else, I’m happy not to be seen. I just want to live my life and do as much good as I can in the world while I’m here. Nothing’s guaranteed, and if the pandemic has taught me anything, it’s not to take things for granted. I don’t. Not anymore, at least.”
I swallow hard, loving how he’s opening up to me about it but also hating how much it's affected him. “You’re changing the world, Ryan. I truly believe that.”
He gives me a smoldering look over the rim of his mug before taking a sip. “I’m trying. Sorry to change the subject, but any chance you’re hungry?”
“Starving. I’d love some bacon, scrambled eggs, a big fat omelet, sausage, pancakes, waffles—with extra butter and syrup.”
He lets out a hearty laugh. “I think we’ve got Beanee Weenees, tons of chili, beans, corn, and other random canned goods.”
I get up and go back to the pantry to see what’s available. “Beanee Weenees? That actually looks gross.” I chuckle.
“I’ve never been a fan, but my dad loves it. Not surprised there’s a bunch of weird shit here.”
“Well, we’ve got gourmet macaroni,” I say with a raised tone, grabbing the box.
“Gourmet?”
“It’s only gourmet because it’ll be made with love.”
Ryan smiles and fills a pot with water, then places it on the burner. We wait for it to boil before I add the noodles.
“This is going to be so good,” I sing-song, mixing in the Velveeta cheese. “A hot meal is much better than a cold one.”
“You know, if anything, this time we’ve spent here has humbled me a bit. Makes me think about all the people you help at the shelter.”
I suck in a breath, thinking about everyone I’ve met while volunteering. They all have unique stories, and it’s hard not to feel guilty that you were born into wealth and they weren’t. “I feel the same.”
I’ll be devastated if we’re still here over Thanksgiving and I can’t help serve lunch because it’s something I’ve done for the past decade. While I’m enjoying spending the time with Ryan, it means a lot to me to give back every year during the holidays.
When our food is done, I divide it into two bowls. We move to the bar top, and when Ryan takes a bite, he lets out a hearty moan.
“Oh my God. I haven’t eaten this since I was a kid.”
“It’s delicious, isn’t it?” I take another bite and savor the taste.
He nods. “So good. Much better than Beanee Weenees.”
I chuckle, and when my phone buzzes, I swipe my screen to find a message from my sister.
