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I mean difficult! It’s going to be difficult!
I’m going to have to stop saying the word “hard” ever again.
“Well… they are muscles,” she mutters, her eyes sliding diagonally away. “How can you argue with that?”
“Actually, this induction stove top boils water really fast. Do you mind if we eat right away?” I ask, changing the subject gracelessly.
But when her eyes lift to meet mine again, there is that damn connection. It’s like a highway. It’s that broad, that clear.
Grateful to have a task to distract me, I just start sautéing everything that’s on the plate. The noodles are almost done when I throw some red pepper and garlic into the pan, topping it with some white wine to make a sauce. A couple tablespoons of butter and we are ready to go.
“Can I help or something?” she asks meekly.
As I plate the pasta for three of us, I just shake my head. “Did you wait until I was done to ask that?”
“Well, I didn’t want to interrupt your concentration.”
“A-ha. Do you want to call Ethan for dinner?”
As soon as she trots across the living room toward the game room, I scold myself yet again.
This is too easy, I remind myself. Teasing each other, calling the kid for dinner… Don’t get used to it. Don’t get twisted.
Ethan is distracted and antsy when he sits down, hunching over the plate of pasta and eating with gusto.
“I think he wants to get back to the game.” Penny apologizes on his behalf.
Ethan looks up, blinking as though just waking up. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “This is really good, Mr. Corwin. Thanks a lot.”
“You’re totally welcome. Call me Clay, okay?”
I don’t know why I want to laugh, but I do. I’m not going to do it, because I don’t know what she would think if I did, but something in me just wants to laugh. Just let it out.
Penny keeps her eyes on Ethan while he eats, the corner of her mouth twisted in amusement. She looks at him with such unvarnished affection.
In record time, his plate is completely clean. He looks up expectantly.
“Yeah, go. Finish your game,” Penny chuckles. “Rinse your plate and put it in the sink, please.”
Ethan takes his plate and rushes to the kitchen, zipping through the chore at lightning speed. Just like that, he is gone again.
“Great manners on that kid,” I observe.
She grins proudly. “Thank you for noticing!”
We continue to eat in silence for a while. She keeps her eyes on her plate, sighing happily from time to time. I try not to watch the motion in her throat when she swallows.
Finally, when we’re done, we get the dishes in the dishwasher, moving next to each other as though we’ve done it a hundred times. We easily get the chore done in moments.
“Okay, so, when you designed this place,” she asks as we climb the slightly curving staircase to the bedrooms, “did you design it for a hundred people to live here? Or were you just unwilling to let go of any of your design ideas?”
“I designed it for all the roommates I was going to have, obviously,” I answer back, pushing open a door I’ve hardly ever opened so she can step inside. “It’s not my fault it took you fifteen years to get here.”
As soon as she walks in the room, I get the reaction I was hoping for. Her mouth opens as she looks around with delight. She notices the bamboo flooring, the double-plaster walls. She knows her stuff. She gets it.
“Okay, check out the bathroom.”
Making an exaggerated scared face, she tiptoes over to the private bathroom and pushes open the door, then squeals with delight.
