No bath time, no fights over popsicle colors. One night of rest.
All I have in the freezer for tonight is dino nuggets and French fries, but I’m tired enough that I could skip dinner altogether and just eat in the morning.
Finally, after too much deliberating, I respond.
Lara:Okay, thank you. I owe you one.
Mom:You know we love having them. Get some rest, love <3
The drive home is quick, and when I pull into my spot on the street, a cat walks up to me right away, meowing loudly. I turn to put some food in her bowl but stop when I see it’s already filled.
“Odd,” I murmur, but my tired brain is too numb to work it out. Maybe Mom filled it extra full before leaving the café today.
It’s not until I get to the landing and hear someone inside my apartment that I start to put the pieces together — did Zachery come back? Did he get my texts?
But when I open the door, it’s not Zachery.
It’s Jake, standing in the kitchen, wearing my apron, something delicious-smelling on a cast iron pan he’s sliding into the oven. When he straightens up and sees me, he gives me a smile.
“Oh, hey,” he says, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead and grabbing a glass of wine from the counter. “Here, take this.”
“Jake,” I manage, blinking at him like he might disappear. “What are you doing? I thought you were working on the house tonight?”
He shakes his head, and I follow him through the living room and to the little hallway, where he disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the rush of running water.
“Nah,” he says, reappearing. “I had something way more fun to do. Come here.”
When I step into the bathroom, I’m hit by the scent of lavender and see the bathtub steaming, a few candles flickering romantically from the vanity.
“Jake,” I breathe, turning to him, and he accepts a kiss from me before tugging on the bottom of my scrub top.
“Come on,” he murmurs against my lips. “You’d better get in the bath before it’s cold.”
I laugh and he disappears, closing the door so I can undress and slip into the water, which is the perfect warmth. Lavender oil floats on the surface, and a moment later, he appears with two bath bombs for me to choose from.
I pick purple, and it fizzes merrily, only strengthening the sleepy lavender smell. Jake reappears to refill my glass, then again to gently tell me dinner is ready, and I can come out if I want to.
We sit across from each other at the little dining table in the nook, with a candle flickering between us, eating rosemary garlic steak and talking about our days. I tell him about every horrible thing that happened to me at work, and by the end of it, I actually feel better. Lighter.
“Why are you doing all this?” I ask later when I’m seated on the couch and he’s rubbing my feet, massaging in scented lotion.
He turns and looks at me, and I see him at once at both eighteen and twenty-three. We’re still so young, but I have the feeling that I would know him at any age. That we could slot right together at thirty-eight or eighty-three.
He shrugs. “Someone said the other day that you could use a spa day. And I agreed with them.”
“Someone?”
“Yeah, the librarian.” He chuckles, shaking his head and going back to the massage. It feels good enough that I have to bite my tongue to keep from making noises I’ll regret. “In fact, I ran into a lot of people the other day. An old babysitter. Coach Ferguson.”
“Wait—” I sit up, and my foot slips from his grip. “Isn’t that the coach you hated?”
When he realizes I’m not giving him my foot back, he rubs his palms down his thighs and looks into the distance, considering the question.
“Yes and no. He was great at strategy, but he had such a temper. Terrible sportsmanship. Just not good at managing kids. But I do have him to thank for my skills, and partly for getting into Michigan.”
“No.” I shake my head, poking at his forehead with my pointer finger, reminding myself of when I did it all those years ago. “You got into Michigan because of that big brain of yours.”
I’ll never get tired of the pink that rises to his cheeks when he gets a compliment, and I watch it with pleasure as he shakes his head and clears his throat, giving me a look.
