Me: I’m off tonight. Can I make you dinner at your place?
Her reply came through an hour later while I was grocery shopping at the Winn-Dixie.
Clyde: That sounds great. You know the garage door code. Make yourself at home.
I’d stood in the canned vegetable aisle and stared at her message so long that someone had to say excuse me to get me to shift over.
Make yourself at home.
Home had always been a foreign concept to me. Growing up, I’d been different than my peers. There’d been no mother or father or picture-perfect life. Lia had been the one showing up for teacher conferences and then, later, to the principal’s office.
The farmhouse had always been the place I ran away from, sneaking out and getting into trouble in the middle of the night. Same for the town. Kirby Falls hadn’t been a cage exactly, but near enough to one that I’d rebelled at every turn.
And then Magnolia had come along. The apartment above it, simple and comfortable enough, but mostly an afterthought. The smooth bar top and the leather-backed stools and the scent of lemon furniture polish were the only things that I’d felt like I’d earned.
But home ... I didn’t think I could point to a place or a time. My roots didn’t begin and end with tradition or community. There was a very real possibility that home was a person. Blond hair, light brown eyes, and a big heart. And I was probably going to lose her, too.
I finished gathering the ingredients for lasagna and then made my way to Bonnie’s house.
It was a meal I’d put together for myself a hundred times. Nothing special, but it was familiar, and I wanted Bonnie to have something to come home to for once.
I’d been here, in her space, enough to know where everything was. I found the mixing bowls, pans, and spices easily enough. Then I played a horrible game of what-if and imagined what the kitchen would look like with glass-front cabinet doors and a big bay window next to the dining table. It would let in more light and brighten things up the way Bonnie wanted.
Forcing my thoughts back to the task at hand, I finished layering ingredients in the casserole dish and then put everything into the preheated oven to bake. There were garlic knots from Apollo’s waiting on the counter. I’d reheat those before Bonnie arrived.
With the food squared away, I gathered my other supplies and went to the pantry. As I counted out teacups and several matching saucers, I envisioned the overall shape and size ofthe cabinet I’d sketched out earlier. I’d toyed around with the idea of a wall-mounted shelf, but Bonnie had space between the entryway and the dining nook for a cabinet. I’d already talked to someone about the glass panes I’d need. I just wanted to measure the wall to get all the details right and ensure I was building it big enough to hold her collection—and to leave her some room to grow it, if that was what she wanted.
I’d tucked my notebook and measuring tape back into my truck well before Bonnie came through the door an hour later.
The lasagna was resting, and the house smelled like garlic and warm bread.
And I thought her unrestrained, radiant smile might break me in two.
She walked right into me, arms squeezing tight around my middle. “It smells amazing in here. Thank you for making dinner.”
I nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “How was your day?”
She beamed. “It was great. Even better now.”
My throat was tight and I didn’t know why. Maybe it was all the things I didn’t think I could say in the time we had left, or the guilt over keeping my conversation with Danny a secret. Or it could have just been the way she was acting like another person making a meal for her was the best thing that had ever happened.
I felt sick knowing her excitement over something so small was because she’d gone without for so long. I’d bet my bar that Danny had never welcomed her home with a warm meal or aquiet, genuine interest about her day. Or if he had, it had been so long ago that Bonnie couldn’t remember it over the other things he’d done.
The apathy, the disinterest, the betrayal, the way he’d given up when things had gotten hard.
As much as I didn’t want to think about that jerk, maybe he’d be better if she took him back. Perhaps finally realizing what he’d lost had put things into perspective, and he’d treat Bonnie the way she deserved.
As we talked over dinner and Bonnie told me about her students, the upcoming winter break, and Candace’s wedding plans, I tried to stay in the moment.
I tried to appreciate every single second with Bonnie.
But I could feel myself retreating, staying quiet and letting her carry the conversation. Shoring up my walls and guarding my heart against disappointment.
“You okay?” Bonnie finally asked while I was loading the dishwasher and she was wiping down the counters, a scene so strangely comfortable and domestic that I wondered what it would be like to do other things like it. To decorate a Christmas tree or go grocery shopping together. Suddenly, I wanted to put gas in her car or rake leaves in the front yard.
Was that love? Finding someone you desperately wanted to take care of? To do everyday, ordinary things with?
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Just tired.”
