Chapter 9
nine
. . .
Kate
I have to laugh at Lucas’s apron. Although part of my humor is the fact that we’re in these apron wars, and neither one of us has said anything.
But I love that Lucas doesn’t just work hard, like he’s done all day, but he does it with a smile and with a desire to enjoy life. I think sometimes I get focused on what I’m doing, and I forget that this is my life. If I’m not enjoying every second, then I need to figure out what the problem is and what I can do to change so that I am enjoying it. Before I know it, it’s going to be over, and what’s the point in living if it’s not fun?
And yes, I know that it’s important to live in such a way that people can see Jesus in you, but surely people more easily see Jesus in a smiling person than someone who seems preoccupied and angry all the time, right?
“I feel like I need to address the elephant in the room,” Lucas says as we sit down at our stools and he pours some sparkling grape juice in each of our glasses.
“What’s that?” I ask, wondering if he’s going to say that he’s as attracted to me as I am to him.
“I’m winning the apron thing, just saying,” he says, picking up a piece of meat and pairing it with cheese and crackers before sticking it all in his mouth.
He munches happily as I digest what he just said.
“No way,” I say, totally unwilling to concede any grounds in this turf war. “I am the apron queen.”
“So you have to tell me how that works, since I’m the apron king,” Lucas says, and I catch the glimmer of laughter in his eyes.
My mouth opens and then it closes, like a refrigerator in a bachelor pad. I can’t hardly agree with him, can I? That we could be the king and queen together? Isn’t that the obvious answer? But I can’t say that. Otherwise he’ll think… He’ll know that I like him. That I don’t see him as my competition, somehow, anymore. It’s funny how working together, facing the stress of deadlines, and handling the small emergencies that crop up can bond you to someone like a date could never do. It’s dealing with actual life that really shows you what a person’s character is made of, and I feel like Lucas and I dealt with life all day today, and I like the way he handles things.
Did I mention he’s funny?
And who doesn’t love a man who cooks?
“You’re not going to admit that we could be tied in this, are you?” He laughs. “Competitive much?”
I know I should be upset about this, but he’s right. I don’t like to lose.
“It’s not because I don’t want to lose that I didn’t say anything. Because if we’re king and queen together, what does that say?”
He sits for a moment and studies the cracker and meat in his hand.
I’m not sure whether he is thinking about what I said or trying to figure out a way to say it where it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to put us together.
Is he trying to put us together?
I think about that for a while as I thoughtfully chew my cheese. He has great taste in cheese. I’m not even sure what kind this is, but he had a little bit of maple syrup in a small cup and I dipped my cheese in it, and…the flavors are just out of this world.
But it’s a little bit hard to think when half of my brain is trying to figure out how I can recreate this in a dish.
Finally, I don’t know what else to say but, “Are you trying to make us a couple?” That sounds a little bit more than maybe what he is doing. A couple? Seriously? Do I even go there?
But why not? Should I spend my life beating around the bush, and not saying things I wish I would have said, and then losing the opportunity and living with regret. I don’t want to do that.
It feels like Lucas is the perfect foil for me, and while I don’t know exactly how I feel about him—we’ve only worked together for a day—I do know that I admire everything I’ve learned about him today.
“Would that be a problem for you?” he asks, picking up his sparkling grape juice and staring at bubbles in it before turning to me, with his deep, thoughtful eyes, and seeming to stare into my very soul. My mouth goes dry, and my fingers clench in my lap, probably to keep them from shaking. My heart seems to be pounding, and suddenly it feels like there’s not enough air in the room.
That would not be a problem for me. Can I say that?