The Art of Moving On | ✔

CHAPTER NINETEEN; part one

     After I've walked around the perimeter of Dres's house extensively, gone through all his things, and picked a Smiths album to play on his record machine, I return to the kitchen to bother him.

     I sit down at the island and watch him cook. "What're we making, Chef?" I ask playfully, nose picking up the fine scent of bacon. Bacon is always the way to go. He could make amouse-bouche for all I care. As long as there's bacon, I'm satisfied.

     "A dirty dog," Dres answers, glancing back at me over his shoulder.

     "Aw, don't say that about Charlie. He's right there, he can hear you." Dres fakes a laugh. I ignore him. It turns out a dirty dog is a hotdog wrapped in bacon. Dres serves it with a side of air-fried slice potatoes. It's a good compromise on healthy and late night cravings. My tastebuds are certainly satisfied.

     While I eat my dirty dogs, Dres bakes the promised cupcakes. He refuses to tell me what kind he's making for me so I'm stuck watching and trying to put it together based on the ingredients. 

     It's nearing one in the morning when he finally sets the cupcake down on a plate in front of me. I'm back in my spot at the island, with my head resting on my folded arms. I don't know how I feel about Dres staying up to bake me my own cupcake but I've decided not to think about it right now.

     Dres slides a fork my way. "You get to try it before I bring it to the store Monday."

     "Oh, shit, I'm your personal taste tester? This is exciting. Alright, okay, let me give you my expert culinary opinion." I school my facial expression to neutral as I look up at Dres. My fork's poised above the cupcake, and I take a moment for dramatic effect.

     "Seriously," Dres deadpans as he reaches for the plate. "I'm going to throw it out if you don't just take a bite."

     "Alright, alright. God, I was preparing my palate. I'm nervous. This is my first cupcake of yours. What if I hate it? Could be a deal breaker, Dres."

     Dres rolls his eyes and I don't know if he's doubting that I could dislike his cupcakes or that me disliking them would be a deal breaker. I mean, it clearly would never be but he can pretend my threat lands. My fork goes in easily, the cake's still warm and moist, and my mouth starts to water at the sight. I bring it to my mouth slowly, and Dres glares at me like he's a second away from choke slamming me into the countertop. I could be down for being choke slammed by Dres.

     I swallow the first bite way too quickly, not savoring it, and have to go in for a second before I moan and say, "This is freaking declious. What in the actual world allows you to exist?" I ditch teh fork and slam the whole thing into my mouth. Dres looks at me absolutely aghast. With my mouth full I say, "I wuv it."

   After I swallow the last of what's in my mouth, I realize what I've just eaten. "Wait a minute. Wait a gosh darn minutes. Is this the apple cider cinnamon brown sugar rum extra sugar carry the one with an atomic isotomer cupcake I suggested?"

     Dres balks at me. I grin. "It is, isn't it?"

     "It is a regular apple cider cupcake, yes," he says, totally downplaying it.

     I am elated. "You actually made the cupcake! And you're bringing it to the store Monday? This is crazy. Name it the Cas. Please name it the Cas. Call it the Cas's Smooth Cider Cupcake."

     "Why smooth?" Dres asks.

     "Because I'm obviously very smooth. I managed to win you over."

     Dres eyes me skeptically. "Have you?"

     "I mean," I say coyly. "I've had many a gracious welcomings into people's homes. But none quite like yours."