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“Perfect.”
***
Lance moved his steaks around in the skillet, careful not to add too much heat to the pan. Steam brushed against his face. Chantelle would arrive any moment, and his steaks were perfect. Diverting his attention to his side dishes, Dottie already finished the mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables. He rubbed his palms together, his mouth watering at the sight of home-cooked food.
Then the doorbell rang, and his heart skipped. Dottie would get the door on her way out, since he told her he wouldn’t need her services for the rest of the evening. Checking the steaks one more time, he shut off the burner.
Lance grabbed two plates from his cabinet. If he remembered, Chantelle liked ginger ale, so he retrieved a bottle from the bottom of his pantry.
“Smells good,” she said.
He turned with the bottle in his hand and stared. Without fail, she was wearing heels. They clicked as she approached his stainless steel stove. She hovered as she inspected the meal for the evening, and the corners of her mouth turned up.
Chantelle then removed her black blazer from her shoulders and draped it over the back of his chairs at the table. “No dessert?”
He pivoted to open his stainless steel refrigerator. Opening the left side for the freezer, he picked out two cartons of ice cream. “We have vanilla and chocolate?”
“Excellent choice. Always stick to the basics.”
He gestured for her to have a seat. “Dinner’s ready.”
“I can serve myself.”
“My way of apologizing again. I haven’t been very nice to you since you came back into town.”
“You were nice today.”
“Thank you.” He served her a plate of the smothered steaks, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. He brought it over to her just as she wrung her hands together.
“This looks amazing. I’ll bet it tastes great too.” She picked up her fork. Chantelle bowed her head for a moment and then took a bite from her meal. She hummed in apparent satisfaction.
“You like it?” He asked.
“Amazing. When did you learn how to cook?”
Lance served his own plate and then took his seat across from her. “My grandmother gave me some pointers before she passed. It’s easier when Dottie is here, and I have to give her credit with the mashed potatoes and vegetables. I made the steaks.”
“I approve,” Chantelle said. “It reminds me of the cook-off our senior class did. What was it again? Chili?”
Lance chuckled, making sure he swallowed first so he wouldn’t choke. “That was you or Grant. Too much paprika.”
“Me?”
“Yes. We also had Jenny, Sophia, Brian, and… Who was that other boy? His head was always in a book.” He tilted his head as he tried to recall their former classmate. “I think that was… J… Javier!”
Chantelle nodded, but avoided eye contact. “That was him. He was the smartest boy I knew. Between reading and inventing something, he was always nice to me.”
Lance’s scalp prickled. “He had a crush on you.”
She raised her chin. “You don’t know that.”
Lance shook his head. “He did. I could tell.” He took another bite from his steak.
“He was sweet. I may have gone out with him if he’d asked.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
She nodded. “I would. There’s no harm in giving a person a chance.”
