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“Please.” I held Sophie’s hand as we made our way through the tables to sit.
We ate breakfast. We talked about everything and nothing. We talked about our past and our future. Contentment filled my chest. As long as we were together, I could handle anything that came our way. We’d be there for each other. We’d be unstoppable together.
* * *
That night, I convinced Sophie that she should come over for dinner. I involved Kendall in figuring out what to make. We decided on a cheesy chicken pasta dish with garlic bread, mainly because we’d be able to make it without too much trouble. I bought a bouquet of flowers for the table and a bottle of red wine.
While I prepared dinner, Kendall baked a chocolate cake with vanilla frosting. I think she wanted to show Sophie what she could do.
At seven, Sophie rang the doorbell.
Maybe because I’d dreamt of being with Sophie my whole life, I was in a rush to move to the next step, the one where we were already living together. Where we could have chosen dinner together as a family and enjoyed making it together.
Kendall opened the door.
Sophie stepped inside. “It smells delicious.”
“We made chicken, pasta, and a cake.”
“I’m excited to taste everything.” Sophie glanced around the room, her gaze pausing on the kitchen table that was already set with dishes and silverware, cloth napkins, lit candles, and flowers.
My dining room was empty. I’d need to get a table for it. Maybe even make my own. I’d talked to Ethan about his process, and I was eager to try to make something more complicated than Sophie’s shelves.
“Thanks for inviting me to dinner,” Sophie said to us.
I poured the wine for us and grape juice for Kendall. “I hope it’s the first of many nights together.”
Sophie smiled. “Me too.”
We sat at the table to eat, talking about school, the progress at the bakery, and my work. It was a nice night. One I wanted to have again and again. After we’d cleaned up, Kendall showed Sophie the cake.
“It looks great, Kendall. I’m so proud of you.”
Kendall preened with the praise. “I wasn’t sure I got the icing right.”
Sophie swiped her finger over the icing, licking it. “It tastes great.”
“I kept playing with the milk until I got it the way I wanted it.”
“What kind of mixer do you have?” Sophie asked her.
“It’s just a hand mixer. So my arm was getting tired.”
“You should have a stand mixer,” Sophie said thoughtfully to Kendall and then rushed to add, “If that’s okay with you.”
“Whatever she needs.”
Kendall’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Your birthday is coming up.” I was happy to support this hobby. She was learning a skill.
“You can pick out the color,” Sophie said.
“You pick the color of a mixer?” I asked.
“This one you do,” Sophie said, exchanging a smile with Kendall.
This mixer sounded expensive, but if it was what Kendall was interested in, she should have a good one. She struggled with the hand mixer, saying it had gotten too heavy to hold.
