Dream Girl

Alkaline

Rhys' P.O.V

She expected the doorbell to ring any minute now. It had been over four hours since Ben had messaged her and he hadn't come yet. He was a man of his word so she knew he would come, it was just a matter of when at this point. The timer rang loudly and she walked back into the kitchen and took the pot roast out of the oven. She took the cover off the roasting pan and marveled at the perfectly cooked roast. She didn't prepare herself a plate as it needed time to cool. She turned the oven off and walked back into the living room. Her television, which was place on top of the fireplace, was playing an episode of Stranger Things. 

Two of her cats were cuddled together on the chair, taking a nap. Her doorbell rang and she figured it must've been Ben. She got up and answered the door only to see her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Mixon. "Well hi," Rhys smiled. "Good almost evening Rhys. The mailman accidentally gave me this envelope. It's addressed to you". She handed the envelope to Rhys and she thanked her. "While I'm here, you wouldn't happen to have a copy of this week's People Magazine would you? Leslie told me you get a subscription". Her voice was high pitched and she could easily be mistaken for a young woman if you were unaware of her appearance. 

"I do. Come in and I'll find it for you". Rhys moved out the way and Mrs. Mixon walked in. "Where are those cats I adore?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen. "There's two in here," Rhys said from the living room. "There's no telling where the other three are". Rhys looked through a woven basket on the coffee table and pulled out this weeks edition of People. She walked up the steps and into the kitchen where Mrs. Mixon was waiting. "I know that smell anywhere. You've cooked a pot roast," she smiled as Rhys handed the magazine to her. "I did. I tried the recipe that Theresa had given me a few weeks ago and I didn't like it, so I'm back to my original recipe".

"For that Mississippi roast?" Mrs. Mixon asked. "It's too spicy for Gerald and I. It had to be tossed. What a waste," she said. Mrs. Mixon looked over towards the hallway. "Your door was unlocked," Ben said as he stood under the arch that led to the kitchen. Mrs. Mixon looked him up and down and then said, "Hello young man". He smiled and nodded. "Hi". Mrs. Mixon turned her attention back to Rhys. "Well I'll let you go on about your night. I'll also tell that mailman to check before he drops things off". She walked out of the house and closed the door behind her. "Could you be so kind as to lock it? I don't need anymore people walking in unannounced," Rhys said to him.

He did as he was told and then walked back into the kitchen. "You're two hours late," Rhys said as she prepared herself a plate. "I know. Training went longer than expected and then I got caught in some traffic," he explained. "Don't just stand there. Come and make yourself a plate," she said as she plopped some potatoes and carrots on her plate. He walked over and saw the plates on a shelf next to the fridge. "You cooked for me?" he asked as he grabbed a plate. Rhys walked over to the table and sat her plate down. "The food was already being prepared when you messaged me".

She walked over and grabbed herself a glass from one of the glass cabinets by the stove. She poured herself a cup of Gold Peak slightly sweetened tea and sat back down at the table. "I can have some?" Ben asked pointing at the bottle she left on the kitchen island. "Go ahead. Just put it back in the fridge when you're done". He poured himself a cup and Rhys started eating her food. Ben sat the tea in the fridge and joined her at the table.

"I was wondering, do you live with your parents?" he asked. "What would make you think that?" she asked. "You stay in this really nice house in a very nice neighborhood. I just assumed you lived here with your parents". She took a sip of tea and sat the cup down. "I own this place". Ben's eyes widen in surprise. "Is that so? What do you do?" he asked. "A little bit of everything," she responded as she picked up a potato with her fork. "A little bit of everything pays the mortgage?" he scoffed. "There is no mortgage. I own this place".