7. Audrey
The sun streamed in through the panelled window of Theo’s room, and as I held my arm up to block out the light, I noticed he was already awake. My heart began thumping, wondering how to break any tension after being so close last night. Small talk wasn’t my forte after being so intimate, especially when it felt like there was an elephant in the room that needed addressing. The elephant, of course, was how we ended up here, and what we were going to do about it. But luckily, he beat me to it.
“Good morning.” His husky voice cooed. “How’d you sleep?”
“Alright,” I lied. The mattress was harder than my usual one at home, and my bones were feeling stiffer than I’d hoped for them to be. He laughed at my apprehensiveness.
“You don’t need to pretend; this isn’t the most comfortable bed.” His hands coiled around mine, the pad of his thumb brushing my skin softly. It ignited sparks in me, the kind of sparks I clearly felt last night… and then my face flushed with red.
“I don’t usually do this,” I explained. “I’m not the kind of person who has one-night stands and acts all cool in the morning, or like I don’t care.”
“Who said this was a one-night stand?” he asked, immediately soothing my worries. “I’d like to think the only thing we shouldn’t repeat is our bout of midnight swimming.”
Oh my God, I completely forgot about that. After such an intense evening, apparently the part where I almost died fell to the back of my memories, into a subcategory called ‘things I don’t need to worry about’. I groaned, revelling as I assessed my brain’s priorities, and how even now, I still had the urge to peek at Theo’s bare chest and stomach, covered only by sheets. But would we have ended up like this if he didn’t save me from a near death experience? It certainly pushed things along, that’s for sure. But it was nice seeing him in a different light; more intense, caring, and courageous to come after me, even when I made stupid decisions. I rolled my eyes; if I told Lucy about what happened, she’d never let me hear the end of it. “That wasn’t my smartest moment. I’m actually pretty ashamed of it.”
“I egged you on in the beginning; I’m part of the problem here.” His eyes looked over at me, as if checking for any damage since it was too dark to do so last night. “But I’m glad we came out safe.”
“Me too. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think this is a quick fling; I just wanted to make sure you were on the same page as well,” I said honestly. Besides my initial hesitancy, I tried to accept my vulnerability. Deep down, my parents’ distance only made me want to get closer to others, and it was a problem, especially when I planned to leave everything behind to get to France… but maybe delaying the goal a little while longer wouldn’t be too bad. I was enjoying my time here, with Theo and Lucy. Would it be so bad to see where this went? And despite my vulnerable statement, Theo sighed in relief. It was a great sign that things might turn out well, and a tonic for my anxiety.
“I’m definitely on the same page.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “But in reflection, I want to go about this the right way.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, scratching my arm. The dried salt water from last night was irritating my skin, reminding me that I desperately needed a shower.
“Let me take you out somewhere nicer for dinner, a place where you’ve always wanted to go.” He paused thoughtfully. “You said you don’t do this often, and I want to prove to you that this isn’t a one-time thing. Let me treat you.”
A place popped up in my mind, but I held it close to me for now. It felt silly expressing my wants like this. Especially if it was something that pushed Theo into an awkward position. If I was to choose somewhere, he’d have to be a gentleman and take it on, without even knowing if he could. “I wouldn’t know where to suggest,” I lied.
“We talked about how you’ve been dying to get out of here, but you still haven’t been to the best spots in town. Let me help you explore that.”
“Well,” I started, trying to build the courage. “There is this one place Lucy’s always raving about, after visiting it with her family. But it’s a bit pricey.” I thought the warning was necessary, since he was still in the process of finding his feet here. I had no clue how much money he set aside for his Australian getaway, and I didn’t want to use it all up, when I would’ve been content with flowers and a homemade dinner.
But instead of contemplating it, he laughed, as if I was missing something. “That’s fine, Audrey. Where am I calling to book?”
“It’s called The Boat House, and it’s a bit further down the shoreline, on the opposite end of town to the café,” I explained. “It’s far enough away from the esplanade to keep the flip flop-wearing tourists out, but still close enough for an amazing view of the sea.”
Theo grinned, and my anxiety dissipated once more. “Sounds dreamy, I can work with that.”
“Well, great,” I added, trying not to let the butterflies get to me. I made my way out of his bed, checking the time on my phone while I slipped last night’s dress on. “I better go get ready for work. You’re sure you’re okay with organising the booking?”
“More than okay.” He walked me out to the doorway. “I’ll text you with the reservation time.” And to seal the perfect goodbye, he leaned in for a kiss. Our lips brushed against each other softly, in a polite and delicate way. The kind of kiss that wouldn’t make my lips swell, but one that would have me thinking about him for a long while after.
“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” I said, once we’d pulled apart. “Bye.”
He leaned against the doorway and watched me turn on my heels, ready to rush all the way home. “Goodbye, Audrey.”
After work, I found my way over to Lucy’s house and knocked on the door, waiting for her to let me in, but with a crash and a bang of pots and pans, I realised she was a little too busy. Luckily, I knew where she kept her spare key, behind a garden gnome at the base of the porch. I collected it subtly, making sure no one was watching, then let myself into her home. “Lucy?” I called out.
“I’m in the kitchen!” she shouted. Then another crash sounded, and I came running. When I found her, her focus was solely on her iPad, watching a YouTube video of some British cooking show.
“You good in here?” I asked, trying to hold back my amusement. Lucy rarely looked frantic, but her hair was sweaty, her apron had a few stains that someone might have reasonably been able to avoid, and she was balancing a few too many dishes on the stove at once.
“Never been better.” She grinned, pointing at the video. “I’ve just found a fantastic cooking show, and I think I’m in love.”
“Really?” I smirked. “Are you going to ask it out on a date?”
“If only it had arms and legs, or at least a big, fat mouth to kiss.” She wiggled her eyebrows, playing into the joke. “But I’m serious. The way she’s describing things makes it actually look easy—the kind of kitchen poise that Cathy could only dream of.”
“What did Cathy ever do to you?” I crossed my arms in jest, knowing she’d been scheduling Lucy on one-too-many weekend shifts to allow herself the extra chance to skip town.
She hmphed. “By the time I finish this lady’s series, I might even demand a raise, with all the new tricks I would’ve learnt.”
“As you should.” I nodded. “But what’s got you so wrapped up in it? I can’t say I’ve ever seen you be so entertained by other cooking programs on TV.”
“To watch amateurs rise to fame? Uh uh.” Lucy shook her head. “Mary Mitchell is like cooking royalty in London. She cooks the kind of food that would put Martha Stewart to shame.”
“I don’t recall you ever being too familiar with Martha Stewart either, Luce.”
“The point is implied! Mary Mitchell has the skills, and I’ve decided to fixate on her until somehow her talent spreads over to me as well. Like period syncing with close friends.” I chuckled, knowing that was one of her proud points about our friendship.
“I guess you’re into cooking, then?”
She gave me a face as if I’d offended her deceased grandfather. “I’ve always been into cooking.”
“I mean, I knew you enjoyed arranging platters and boasting about your hosting skills, but it’s the real deal now, huh?” I eyed the different plates cluttering the kitchen, from cherry bruschetta, a salad made entirely from herbs and a dressing put together from scratch in a repurposed jam jar, to layers of homemade lasagne sheets keeping a pumpkin filling warm. “Everything looks amazing here.”
Suddenly, Lucy’s tense shoulders dropped, knowing she didn’t have to be defensive. It was a cute way to show how nervous she must’ve been, like she found a direction in life that she was always on the cusp of, and she was now wanting to test her limits. I was definitely a dreamer, but maybe Lucy had become one as well. “Well, thank you. You’re welcome to taste it, when everything’s done.”
“I’d expect nothing less. It’s a friendship tax.”
“Precisely.” Lucy laughed, wiping some excess pumpkin filling onto her apron to keep the other stains company. I didn’t envy what her washing machine would have to deal with after this.
“How’d you find her, anyway?” I peered over to the woman on the screen, who worked at a marble kitchen bench and had a certain elegance to her accent. It was as if instead of being Mary Mitchell, she should’ve been named Mary Darling, plucked straight out of a Peter Pan movie. Well, that’s only if Peter Pan suddenly took on the plot of a modern London Kitchen Wars episode. Regardless, she was the kind of role model you’d be proud of having, and I almost felt jealous. I wanted France, but that was it. With my strained relationship with Mum and Dad, I didn’t know if anyone had ever felt like a role model to me, aside from Lucy. And even then, I was older than she was. I had to figure out for myself who I wanted to be growing up; I didn”t get the luxury of having someone else as a role model.
“I was trawling through some digital food magazines and there she was, in all her glory, smack bang on the front cover.” If I wasn’t mistaken, I almost thought Lucy sighed blissfully.
I shrugged. “I see the appeal, and if this means I get more of this…” I pointed at the decadent desserts and meals she’d conquered. “Then I’m all for it.”
“Only in it for you, huh?” Lucy winked. “That’s fine by me. I read today that the best food critics are the ones that want you to cook for their pleasure.”
“Why’s that now?” I laughed.
“Well, if they don’t think the food is good in the first place, they’re certainly not going to ask for the dish again.”
“So, I can expect you to keep a tab on my likes and dislikes from here on out, I suppose?”
“I’ll be charting every single piece of feedback like you’re my little science experiment,” she joked. And then suddenly, we were young and free, laughing like children who didn’t have a care in the world. Children whose only job involved having fun and exploring our true selves, wants, and dreams. This was why Lucy was my best friend. And no matter what physical distance might come between us in the future, this is why I planned to never let her go.
Out of respect, I left Lucy alone to finish her episode of Mary’s Kitchen, plopping my weight down onto her comfortable living room sofa instead. I almost moaned from the sheer relief I felt, putting my feet up on the cushions, letting the circulation in my legs flow a little easier than it had done all day. I was tired, sore, and any other adjective of ‘exhausted’ you could name under the sun, but I didn’t mind when Henry’s work kept me busier than usual—especially when it meant I’d be adding an extra hundred dollars to my travel fund. I opened my phone up to my banking app, checking on what I’d been able to save so far—I knew it still wasn’t enough, and it might not be for quite a while. But, as I heard Lucy hum a tune in the kitchen, along with the creak of the oven’s hinge as she opened and closed it, I knew I had more to learn from her than just friendship. Lucy was teaching me patience, and that it was completely okay to have a goal, even if it was one that you’d be chasing for a little while longer than you expected. Besides, with Theo in the picture, I didn’t mind sitting tight for an extra few months—maybe even years, stuck in this town. It was crazy to think how ‘all in’ I was, after only a short while of knowing him.
Just as I shook my head at the thought—a stern reminder that I was getting ahead of myself—my phone flashed with a message from Theo. After this morning, I didn’t think I was nervously waiting for an update about our date… but as soon as I saw it, the tension in my stomach began to ease. Was this really the effect he had on me? I believed in romance and love and everything in between, I just didn’t expect to experience a hint of it so soon. I didn’t realise the greatest feeling I could experience in my twenty-two years of existence was the joy of hearing my best friend talk to herself in the next room, the smell of freshly cooked food, and the butterflies in my stomach that told me Theo must’ve liked me as much as I liked him. And finally, I let myself read over the message: ‘Dinner’s at 6pm tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you.’
As much as I tried to bury the feeling, I couldn’t wait to see him either.