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8
Danielle
Robert might be sitting at my kitchen table, but his thoughts were a million miles away. I wasn’t even sure he tasted the lasagna, which might be a good thing. Usually I make my own sauce, but I didn’t have time today. I had spent more time cleaning my house, trying to make sure everything was neat.
“If tonight was a bad night for this, you could’ve said no,” I told him.
Robert shook his head. “I’m sorry that I’m not the best company tonight. I have a lot on my mind.”
“I can only imagine. If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen. If you’d rather not, that is okay too,” I said. We really didn’t know each other enough for me to expect him to confide in me. That didn’t mean I secretly didn’t hope that he would.
“I don’t want to ruin your evening,” he stated.
“I would like to think that if I was troubled by something, you’d listen to me,” I said, not so sure he would. Then again, I probably would’ve spoken to Ellen and Lori first. I’m sure he has plenty of friends that he turns to when he needs to vent.
“I would. This is different. I don’t know what’s going on. Yesterday the police had me come down to the station to discuss the fire.”
“That’s not uncommon, is it?” I asked.
“They said they have proof that the fire was set,” he stated.
My jaw dropped. “Someone burned it down on purpose? Who?” I asked.
“They are investigating that.”
“And they have no clues?” I questioned.
“One. A woman with long brown hair. That’s it,” he said.
I have long brown hair. God, I hope they don’t think I did it. I hope he doesn’t wonder either.
“Robert, you…you don’t think that…that I…”
“Of course not,” he stated firmly. “If I thought you were capable of anything like that, do you think I’d be here eating your cooking?”
Even though he hadn’t eaten it all, it did say he wasn’t worried that I poisoned him, not intentionally at least. “Good point,” I replied. “I do hope they find out who did it. If it was me, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep until they did.”
“I haven’t,” he said.
“Then what are you doing here? You must be exhausted.”
“I am. But I can’t remember the last time a beautiful woman offered to cook me dinner. How could I turn it down?” he smiled.
Beautiful. The word felt so good to hear and it would be so easy to let everything else slip away, but I was worried about him. Robert was under a lot of stress and now the lack of sleep wasn’t going to help any.
“Then maybe I’ll clear these dishes and we can finish off with dessert,” I said. Robert raised a brow, and I saw his smirk. I guess you’re not that tired. “Grapenut pudding.”
He chuckled and said, “You’re joking right?”
“Why? You don’t like it?” I asked.
“Actually, it was my childhood favorite. My mom used to make it at least once a week for me,” he said.
“I can’t promise it will be as good as hers, but it is homemade,” I said, glad I’d gone with my gut and chose to make that instead of something heavy like chocolate cake.
I began clearing the table when Robert got up and started to help.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
