Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas

Show You How - Part 4

I was dreading that day’s dinner, not only because it was my turn to cook, but because I didn’t want to face Brandon. I felt like I knew too much, much more than I ever wanted to know. The thought of hearing from him, even if it was something benign like the weather or a reiteration of what I already knew from Carmen, made my stomach ill.

But whatever I knew, or whatever I suspected, were cards that I couldn’t necessarily play. I would have to invite the conversation and see what Brandon offered – and as much as I wanted to avoid it, it would be over sooner if I just dove right into it.

“I didn’t hear you come in last night,” I said when Brandon came down to the kitchen. I was heating up tomato sauce in a saucepan, careful not to burn it like I had last time.

“Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I got in kind of late last night. It made for a bit of a rough day today, but nothing that a few cups of coffee couldn’t get me through.”

You’ve had a lot of coffee lately, I thought with a frown.

“Need any help with that?” he offered, noticing the expression on my face.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. Shit. He can’t think this is about her. “I won’t burn it again,” I added grumpily, poking at the sauce.

It worked. Brandon laughed and leaned over to take a look. “You’re doing just fine so far,” he said. “I’m quite impressed. And did you add spinach and mushrooms yourself? You’re becoming quite the chef.”

I wrinkled my nose at him playfully before shooing him away. “Go sit down. It’s almost ready.”

The dinner I served wasn’t exactly at the same caliber as Brandon’s was yesterday – he would have made the sauce from scratch himself, and if he really had time, he probably would have made the pasta too – but I was still rather pleased with myself. It was an unremarkable meal at best, but I was still satisfied that I had made it myself with no help and no mishaps.

I didn’t say anything as I twirled my spaghetti around my fork, waiting to see if Brandon would start talking without any prompting from me.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat. “I’ve been sleeping a lot better for the past few days,” he said. “My back pain is a lot better now.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said. “Are you taking anything for it?”

“Just Advil when I need to, but not that’s not very often now. I think it’s going to a chiropractor that’s helping the most.” He took a bite of his food and chewed it longer than necessary, trying to work out how exactly what he was going to say next. “And that’s, well, that’s how I met Jenna. She works at her dad’s clinic – her dad is a chiropractor too – and I’ve been feeling a lot better lately.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on my plate. This is what I’ve been waiting for. I finally heard it – quite a bit late – but I didn’t feel the satisfaction I was expecting. I didn’t feel anything different, and when I thought about it, why did I think I would? It didn’t erase everything that had happened up to this point.

“That’s good,” I finally said. “Back pain isn’t something you should ignore.”

Brandon’s jaw tightened and he looked down. “I really like her,” he said.

Too much, too much, I thought, flushing hot. This isn’t a conversation I want to have. But he was expecting me to say something, preferably something approving, and whatever I said now would impact whether or not he would feel comfortable coming to me in the future. Wasn’t that where my annoyance stemmed from?