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Bexley followed Alex out the back and into the small garden.
“You have a fountain back here?” she asked.
“It doesn’t work. I need to replace it, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
The fountain was small and had only greenish-brown water in it. The garden was behind it against a tall wooden fence.
“I wasn’t expecting company, or I would have had someone fix the place up. I was lucky I could get my friend to come over to stock the kitchen and clean the dust off everything.”
“You didn’t have to go through all that trouble just for me.”
“Well, we have to eat, and nothing delivers out here,” Alex replied. “Security already hates when I come here, so us going out to dinner isn’t really an option, either.”
“Right,” Bexley said. “Can I help you cook something?”
Alex removed the blue tarp from the pile of wood and said, “Sure. Can you chop vegetables?”
“I think I can handle that,” Bexley said.
“Then, we’ll make an evening of it,” Alex replied. “Can you hold the door open for me? I’ll bring in enough for the night.”
“I am an independent woman, you know? I can carry firewood.” Bexley crossed her arms over her chest playfully.
“Will you just let me do this for us, please?” Alex laughed.
“You’re trying to keep that semi-butch card, aren’t you? I think they just call that ‘soft butch,’ though.”
“Well, I’ll take both. Can you get the door?”
???
“So, I know I’m not a great cook, but was it at least okay?” Alex asked.
“It was great. You sell yourself short a lot,” Bexley replied, pushing her plate away on the small table.
“The wine is nice,” Alex said, finishing her glass.
“Alex?”
“Yes?”
“Dinner was lovely.” Bexley smiled at her. “And you cooked it.”
“You helped.”
“No, I chopped. You cooked. I unpacked.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Alex stood abruptly and moved to the old-fashioned refrigerator. “I didn’t make this myself, but while you were unpacking, I did wash and clean the berries.”
Bexley wasn’t sure what Alex was talking about until she showed back up at the table carrying a piece of cheesecake with several strawberries around the plate.
“You…” Bexley began as Alex sat it in front of her.
“It’s store-bought, but I hope it’s okay.”
“Where’s your piece?”
“I don’t much care for cheesecake.”
