Super

Dinner Date

Chapter 23: Dinner Date

"-What the hell is wrong with you! Why are you doing this to yourself!"

"I'm not changing my mind. All of you wanted me to move on and this is the first step-"

"This isn't what we meant, we-"

"Well, this is what I'm doing, okay. Can we at least try to leave this on a good note? I don't want to fight anymore, Joey. Could you just take me home?"

"But how does he fit in?"

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"The guy!"

"Joey, who are you-

"Nathan!"

My glass serving dish thumped against the corner of my hard-plastic counter and I swear to god I heard a crack. Shit! I placed the platter gently on the counter and ripped off my purple oven mitts. God, please let that have been the platter and not the tarte. Anything but the tarte! Please. Please. Please. Please! I gingerly turned it around and smile at the small, damn near invisible, hair line crack in my glass dish. Oh thank god.

5:53pm. I was running out of time. I quickly set the table for two: I placed napkins under the mix matched silver wear, poured water into each glass, and finally placed all the food on the table. It all looked good, nothing caught fire or collapsed in on itself and honestly, at this point, that's all I could ask for. Alright, so far so good. Was there anything I was-

Ding Dong

"Not now." I muttered ripping off my apron and throwing it on the couch. "One minuet, I'm coming!" I dusted my hands off on my ripped blue jeans and opened the door. "Nathan." I said a little dumb founded. He stood at my front door looking completely at ease wearing a thermal grey and black flannel jacket, dark wash jeans, and black Steele toed boots.

"Hey."

"Hi. You...you rang the doorbell." I said and he cocked his head at me, clearly amused. "You know what, never mind. Come in." He moved past me into the apartment and I closed and locked the door behind him. Nathan looked between me and the homecooked meal waiting for some kind of explanation. "I swear to god, I'm not going to propose."

"That's good to know. Guess it makes me a little less terrified." He said sitting down and I laughed sitting down across from him. There was beat of silence and felt like my head was about to explode.

"Do you want something to drink? Beer?" I asked getting up.

"Yeah, that'd be great." I set down two Valley Brews on the table, opened both, and we each took a long drink.

"So..." Nathan said trying to break the silence. "What is all of this?"

"Um, this...this is creamy garlic chicken. It's my grandma's recipe actually. She taught me everything she knows. And thanks to her, I could pretty much cook Thanksgiving dinner on my own as a seven-year-old." I laughed a little awkwardly, clearing my throat. "Then there is the oven baked asparagus. And finally, the Banana Tarte Tatin."

"Sorry, what was the last one?"

"Oh, Tarte Tatin. It's, essentially, a really big tart with some rum, bananas, caramel, and cinnamon. It's sweet but not too sweet...hopefully."

"It looks amazing." He said taking a healthy serving of the chicken and asparagus. "and don't take this the wrong way, but I thought that you were going to order something."

"Oh, I was. And then I thought I'd just cook something. Cooking helps me to think."

"You needed to think?"