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“Thanks. I was dying.”
“Oh no problem. You are totally trying some of the marinated egg now, though,” Deacon said, laughing a little.
Wrinkling her nose, she said, “Nope. Not a chance.”
He chewed thoughtfully on the dumpling and said, “That was the price of the dumpling. Sorry. It’s written in stone now. My hands are tied.”
Laughing, she said, “Really?”
Thoroughly enjoying himself, he popped another gyoza into his mouth.
“Yep. Really.”
As if by magic, Sara’s drink and gyoza chose that moment to arrive. She offered him one of hers in repayment.
Shaking his head, he gestured to the bowl of ramen the waiter was bringing his way.
After the waiter set the bowl down in front of him, he broke the egg apart.
“Nope. Time to pay the piper,” he said, snagging a piece with his chopsticks.
Sara had expected something pink, remembering the only pickled egg she’d ever had. This was a little grayish on the outside, but it didn’t look entirely unappetizing.
He held a piece in front of her mouth with his chopsticks. She gave him a sideways glance.
He was staring at her calmly and expectantly as if to say, “I’m not moving my chopsticks ‘til you take this.”
Giving in, she took the bite. She was surprised by the flavor, expecting something almost grainy in texture with a heavy vinegar flavor, but getting something creamy, almost like a soft-boiled egg instead.
She turned her head after she had finished chewing, and said, “Okay. You’re right. That was actually pretty decent.”
Deacon gave that familiar smirk, and used his chopsticks to stir in the meat and vegetables piled on top of the noodles.
“Told you.”
Laughing she turned to him and said, “And then you just ruined it by being all smug.”
Leaving his chopsticks standing in the mountain of ramen, he held her gaze, his eyes softening.
Not entirely sure what the emotion flickering over his face was, Sara was relieved when the waiter came over to drop off her meal. Taking a bite of the crispy chicken, she gave a happy sigh.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes until Sara asked, “So. You’re nothing at all like I remember from school. What happened?” she asked, gesturing at him with her chopsticks.
Deacon stared into space for the longest time. Sara was beginning to think that he didn’t actually hear her question, when he finally spoke.
“Chloe happened, really. Senior year, my mom just took off. Left Chloe home alone for a week by herself. She was only thirteen at the time. I had to go back home and take care of her. Thinking about someone else for once…it changed me.”
Sara’s eyes widened. She had really not expected such a straightforward answer. She didn’t expect to be so moved by it either.
Not sure what to say, she put her hand on his arm, and said, “Wow. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really expecting you to answer me. For what it’s worth though, sounds like Chloe was lucky to have you.”
They drifted back into a companionable silence as they finished their meals.
When the waiter came up with their checks, they each paid, and made their way to the exit.
Deacon asked, “So what else have you got planned for today?”
Shrugging, Sara said, “I’m gonna head over to the bakery in the Japanese Village Plaza, get a cup of coffee, a croissant, then listen to some pretty terrible karaoke. Maybe buy some shit I don’t need. You know, typical Saturday. You?”
