Crumbling Cakes

Part X

"Excellent, thanks for stopping here first, Jon." I stared at the sight before me, faintly shivering. Crates of veggies and styrofoam coolers of meat were being brought down from the truck bed. "Dalia, can you grab that crate right there and bring it to the kitchen?"

"Is that a joke?" His head whipped in my direction, my eyes bounced between him and the crate.

His brow furrowed. "I don't see why it would be." 

"Um, weren't you the one that said I might as well just chuck the ingredients into the trash? Because that's what's going to happen here if I'm supposed to carry that." I looked at the crate warily. I didn't trust myself enough to tote that much produce. He cocked his head ever so slightly.

"I trust you." I stared at him in disbelief— that makes one of us. "It's one crate, Lia. We'll take care of the rest. I just need those to be rinsed right away." He lifted his chin at my impending doom.

A groan was my only audible response but I nodded nonetheless. It's one small crate, how hard can it be? I lifted it up and secured it against my chest, holy spaceballs that's heavy—didn't help that I was feeling light-headed. I miss you Fiesta Chewy Burrito. We were supposed to be friends; I lamented my breakfast blunder.

My walk to the door was smooth as pie, that was until my foot caught the threshold at a peculiar angle.

Mayday! MAYDAY!

My breath caught in my throat at the sensation of tipping back. I braced myself for the impact with the cement when two firm arms wrapped around me. An oomph briefly parted my lips as my back met something solid and warm.

"Easy now." Sebastian's voice was near my ear. Nonsensical noises made their way to the surface from deep within my chest. "Are you okay?"

"Yea, sure. Just fantastic." I swallowed, feeling my cheeks heat. Was it warm out here? Because it felt really warm. My hands clutched the crate to the point of pain. Too close!!! He righted me on my feet, only letting go when he was certain I was steady.

I turned around slowly, making eye contact against my will. "I'm so sorry. I—" Sebastian cut me off with a shake of his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips.

"It's okay. So long as you're fine." Oh sure, he could say I was fine but if I so much as thought the word he'd blow a gasket. Pipe down you, just be grateful that he kept you from cracking your head like an egg against the ground. Damn it, the brat was right. "Just walk a bit slower, yea?"

I nodded in mortification. Seriously, I thought two left feet only applied in dancing. There has to be some sort of walking clause, it's not fair that I can't even manage a straight line around him. How is it that I can catapult a tall fence yet stumble while carrying some vegetables? Or muffins. Or cupcakes. Or anything if I'm completely honest. My life was mental. Oh alright, I always walk away with bruises when jumping fences but that's irrelevant.

I needed to get a grip, certainly standing there gaping at him wasn't doing me any favors.

Okay slowly, Dalia. Slowly. I inched my way toward the rinse sink and by the grace of Chewbacca I made it there with zero incidences. I frowned at the contents of the crate.

That's a lot of carrots... and peas? I think they were peas, it looked like a green bean but small round balls were visible through the skin. How sad, I couldn't even tell you what a pea pod looked like. To me, peas were an odd green pile of balls soaking in a metal can. Guess that's the price you pay when you never get raw vegetables. Or any for that matter. 

Let's be real, when I used to have a trailer of my own—in the glory days before the Red-Haired Harlot took an emblematical sledgehammer to it—I would never spend my money on the raw stuff this world had to offer. I needed my food to last so it was grains and meat for this gal. Anything that gave me longstanding energy.