Chapter Fifteen #2
I walked to the kitchen and grabbed Ted’s bowl on the way.
My house was certainly not big, but I was proud of the two-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath house I’d been able to buy just a few years ago.
I was fortunate to live with my parents until I could buy my place.
It had been a total dump when I first bought it, but over the years, I had done projects that made it feel like a true home.
Reese took a seat on my gray, overstuffed sofa as she took in the room. “This is really nice, Kelly. Do you own it?”
“I do,” I said proudly.
“Did you know that I am thirty-one years old, and I have never owned a house?” she asked.
“Nothing crazy about that. It’s hard to buy a house nowadays. I know a lot of people my age who are married with kids who don’t own a home,” I said as I put Ted’s bowl down and headed for the pantry.
“Sometimes I worry I’m falling too far behind,” she said, her voice small.
“Fall behind?” I took a jar of spaghetti sauce and some noodles out, then got a pot of water boiling. I pulled out a saucepan and started warming it up with olive oil.
She took a seat on top of my tiny kitchen island. “At this age, I should be further ahead. I should be married and having kids already.”
“You don’t have to do everything at the same time as other people.
It’s okay that you are on your own timeline.
You could buy a house at eighty, and you would still be perfectly on time for your life.
If you want kids, then having them later in life doesn’t make you a failure,” I said as I pulled out a cutting board. “Do you want a glass of wine?”
“You like wine?” she asked, an eyebrow arching up.
“What? I don’t look like a wine-o to you?”
“A wine-o? Definitely not.” She stared me down.
“Okay, I’m not a wine-o per se. But I do like the occasional glass. Do you like red or white?” I asked.
“I’m good, thank you,” she declined.
“I have beer too, if that’s more your thing.” I started peeling and then cutting up garlic.
“I don’t drink alcohol,” she mumbled, her gaze fixed on her hands.
I shrugged. “No biggy.”
“No biggy?” she repeated, her face guarded.
“I have some soda in the fridge, if you prefer. Or I’ve got POG,” I said.
“POG?” Her eyebrows furrowed.
“It’s a juice. It’s a mix of passion fruit, orange, and guava juice.”
Reese scooted off the island and ventured into the fridge. She came back with the carton of POG. “Do you want some? Or would you prefer a beer?” She asked.
“I’ll do some POG, thanks,” I said as I put the garlic into the hot pan.
“I love the smell of garlic cooking,” she said, pouring us both a glass and then handing it over to me before sitting back on the island. “It doesn’t bother you that I don’t drink?” she asked.
“No. Should it?” I peered over at her.
Reese didn’t answer, but instead took a small sip of the POG. “This is pretty good stuff.” She smiled.
I made a mental note to keep it stocked in the fridge in case she ever wanted to come back over. “Do you like to cook?” I asked.
“I’m terrible at it. I burn everything.”
“No, you just haven’t had the right teacher. If you don’t cook, what do you eat every night?”
“Does takeout count?” She shrugged sheepishly.
“Not at all,” I smiled back as I added the noodles to the boiling water.
We chatted comfortably as dinner came together. Once it was done, I gathered our bowls and brought them to the living room coffee table.
Reese looked around as she realized I didn’t have a dining room table. “Are you sure you want to eat red sauce in here?”
“It’ll be more comfortable than standing at the island,” I said.
“But your couch!” she argued.
“I trust you, Reese. And even if you spill, I can always clean it up.”
She followed me to the sofa, unsure but not willing to argue. She sat down, and I turned on the TV, flipping through the guide. “Do you see anything that catches your eye?” I flipped through some more until she gasped, and I stopped on Legally Blonde.
“Ooo, that one!” She practically jumped up and down.
“Good choice,” I said. The movie was only about ten minutes in.
“You like rom-coms?” she asked.
“Kahale and I both secretly love them. Legally Blonde is a classic. Especially when she explained how ammonium thioglycolate works.”
Reese busted out laughing and even snorted a little bit. I’d never been more in love with a laugh in my life.
“You have that part memorized?” She asked through tears of laughter.
“I take my rom-com watching very seriously,” I laughed back.
We relaxed and enjoyed our pasta. Reese and I occasionally glanced at each other, taking turns saying a line from the movie before the character got the chance to. Ted happily lay at Reese’s feet.
“Aren’t you going to ask whether Reese Witherspoon is my namesake?” she asked, her eyes tense.
“Nah. Reese didn’t become more popular until closer to the year 2000. Besides, if she were your namesake, I get the feeling you would have mentioned it,” I said. Reese seemed satisfied with my answer but didn’t respond.
When we finished our bowls of spaghetti, we set them on the coffee table and settled on the sofa. The sofa was so overstuffed that we found ourselves being pushed together. At first, we both struggled against it, shifting every few minutes to keep our arms from touching.
After about thirty minutes of fighting it, Reese gave in with a sigh and leaned into me. “Is this okay?” She rested her head on my shoulder, her hair tickling my chin.
I silently breathed in the minty smell of her shampoo mixed with salt water. I went to clear my throat, finding it hard to speak. My body was on fire from the points where I was making contact with her.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, my voice sounding like it was full of gravel.
I felt Reese relax even more into me with my permission. The busy day caught up with me, and I felt myself becoming light.
My heart was full, and I knew that today had sealed it for me. I liked Reese. More than just a friend.
One moment, I was watching Reese Witherspoon while breathing in the intoxicating scent of my Reese. The next thing I knew, I was being awoken by the sound of Reese’s voice.
“I love you, too,” she whispered softly.