A Fresh Start

Cherise led the way into her apartment and took her coat off. She took his and let it rest on the hook by the door. Micah was looking tired.

“If you want to lie down while I cook, you can,” she said, gesturing at the couch.

“No,” he said. “If it’s all right, maybe I could cook with you?”

She smiled and nodded, scooping some food into Lira’s bowl like normal.

“I’ll put you in charge of the asparagus,” she said and handed him the bundle. “Do you know how to clean and trim it?” He shook his head and she took one. She got a strainer out from the cabinet and put it in the sink, turning the water on. “It’s really simple and actually kind of fun. You put one hand near the tip and the other at the end and….” She snapped the end off. “It’s that simple. Put the ends on the counter and the rest in the strainer so they can rinse.”

While he did that, she took out two chicken breasts and trimmed the fat off. He started to hum a song as she seasoned the chicken. She tried to lift a cast iron skillet off the wall but she couldn’t lift it.

“I’ll do it,” he said kindly and took it down for her. She smiled. “What next?”

“In the cabinet is a box of penne pasta.” He took it out and started boiling it. “And mince a clove of garlic.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he said with a salute and she grinned at his change in mood while she sautéed the chicken.

“Now, we just need to sautee the asparagus, cut up the chicken, and mix it all together.”

He put the asparagus and garlic into the cast iron.

“Like this?” he asked, pushing it around with a wooden spoon.

“Exactly,” she nodded. “Be careful to not let it stick to the pan, though, or it’ll burn.”

She drained the pasta and chopped the chicken.

“It smells and looks delicious,” he said as he carried it over to the table.

“I have a wonderful sous chef,” she replied, putting two plates and two forks on the table.

They sat down and ate quietly. Micah got up and poured some wine, gesturing to the couch. His face was dark again.

“I don’t know where to begin,” he sighed, taking a sip and looking at the barren fireplace.

“How about how you two first me,” she suggested.

“Freshman year of high school,” he began. “We were both in track. She was a nice girl, really sweet and funny. We hit it off pretty quick. We started dating in our sophomore year.” He turned a little red. “She was my first kiss. It was junior prom. Half way through our senior year, I found out she was cheating on me and I broke up with her.

“I told you she comes from a family of money. Her father owns an oil rig out in Lawton. So, as you can guess, Mariah got whatever she wanted. When I broke up with her, she got furious. After graduation, I never heard from her again. I figured it was all over. I read in a paper that her father lost the oil rig and had moved on to stocks and bonds. I considered contacting her to see how she was doing but thought better of it.”

“Why is she singling you out like this?” Cherise asked, unaware her wine glass was empty.

“Probably because I was the only guy brave enough to actually break up with her,” he said. “I had also read she was engaged at one point but it fell through. I wonder if he’s the father,” he muttered.

“Is she really that vindictive?”

He poured a third glass of wine. She could tell he was starting to get buzzed.

“Probably,” he answered. “Fuck,” he groaned. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

“Do you want some more pasta? It’ll help soak up some of that alcohol.”

He stared at her with bleary eyes. “I’d like you,” he blurted out and she turned red, looking down at her glass. “You know, I’ve liked you since the first time we met.” He moved closer on the couch. “You were always nice to me. I remember when we had that big test that I hadn’t studied for and you stayed up the night before the cram with me.”

His hand slid onto hers.

“Micah, we talked about this,” she whispered, finally looking up at him.

She hadn’t realized how close he was.

“Kiss me,” he breathed. “I know you want to.”

She leaned back. “You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk,” he murmured, putting his hand behind her neck.

“Micah, please don’t,” she said, trying to push him away.

“Just one,” he whispered then pressed his lips to hers again.

She tried to push him off, memories of her ex flooding back to her. His empty wine glass hit the floor and his other hand touched her cheek. She looked around for Lira who was fast asleep on the kitchen floor. If Lira wasn’t upset….

He pulled away for a second before kissing her again and she hesitated, not sure what to do. It was true she wanted to kiss him but he was drunk.

“This doesn’t feel right,” she whispered, successfully pulling away.

His eyes were half closed. “Why?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m sobering up quick,” he murmured and she could tell he was.

“It’s a work night.”

“It’s Friday,” he reminded her.

“I- I have to take Lira for a walk.”

“She’s asleep.”

Their knees were touching.

“I’m- I’m running out of excuses,” she said, swallowing thickly. “But I’m really scared.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he said then kissed her, pulling her close.

Finally, she gave in. She ran her hand up his chest to his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. His mouth tasted of wine and a slight hint of the pasta. It was pleasant and she realized she really did like the feel of his lips on hers.

His hands began to wander down her arms to her stomach and she gasped, pulling away.

“No,” she said, panting slightly.

“Sorry,” he said removing his hands from her and putting a hand to his forehead. “I have such a headache.”

“Is my kissing really that horrible?” she asked, trying to make a joke.

He looked at her in exasperation. “Does everything have to turn into a joke for you?”

She stood up, fixing her hair. “I’m going to bed.”

-

She curled up under her covers and cried quietly into her pillow. If only he knew everything. He confided in her, though. Perhaps the time was coming for her to confide in him.

-

She woke the next morning to the smell of sizzling bacon. She yawned and stretched. Lira wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She pulled a robe on over her pajamas and slipped on her slippers.

Lira was in the kitchen, begging for the bacon that Micah was cooking. He was whistling quietly, tapping his foot in time with whatever song was playing in his head. She wondered if he remembered what happened the night before.

“I poured you some orange juice,” he said when he saw her walk in.

She smiled.

“Thanks,” she muttered and took out her pill sorter.

“Okay,” Micah said and she looked up. He was talking to Lira. “But don’t go telling on me to your mama,” he said and tossed her a slice of bacon.

“Micah!” she said and he gave her a huge grin.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, raising his hands in defense. “She made me do it.”

She laughed a little and took the plate of bacon he offered her.

They sat on the couch and ate in silence. He propped his feet on the base of the coffee table. She wasn’t really hungry. She was trying to find a way to explain everything to him.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

She put the plate on the table and tugged at her hair.

“You were honest with me,” she said, looking at her hands. “I think it’s time I be honest with you.”