I Would Want To See You One Last Time.

Piece 8

           The walk was a tiring one, I'd just decided on giving up Dally for the better, and now I feel like shit. Maria made me write out a text message to Dally explaining why we're not going to be close anymore and to send it. That made me feel worse. She said it'll pass and I'll feel better eventually, but what about now?  We're walking to her house, my feet are hurting, and there are words in the back of my mind, tingling at my throat, wanting to come out.

        Walking in her front door, I see pictures of families in sunny areas and freshly placed flowers in a vase sitting on the coffee table. I can smell the scent of bath and body works candles still burning with incandescent lights coming from the kitchen, as it's lighting up the rest of the room.

        Maria steps in and I follow her, cautious. This isn't my house and I don't think anyone knows I'm here with her.

        She looks at me, giving me a questioning look, and says, "Are you alright?"

        "Yeah! I've never been to your house, nor was I aware I would be going over today." I look around at the stairs leading to the second floor and the different hues on the flowers. Maria walks over to a lit candle and blows it out.

         "We burn through candles here quick." She looks at me for a second and when I catch her gaze, she looks away quickly. She looks suspicious.

         "Come on," She heads to the kitchen, "you look uncomfortable." I follow her into the kitchen where I see food in pots and pans on a drying rack, with a very clean kitchen. Freshly cleaned, it slightly smells like lemon.

          "Your house is nice!" I say, trying to stir up a conversation. Suddenly the awkwardness sets in and I feel weird for being here. I don't want her to think my feelings are a part of her responsibility. That'd be hypocritical. I let someone do that to me, but that doesn't mean I should do that to someone else. I can't drive her away.

         "Thank you. It's all my mom's doing, she loves decorating and I can't decorate. She tries to get me to but it doesn't look good. I just sniff the candles she makes me smell and help her lift things." She says while opening the pantry. I see food for miles. Made me wonder what's in the fridge.

        "Are you hungry?" She asks, looking at me with the pantry still open. I don't say anything and just look away. "That's a yes." She looks back into the pantry and pulls stuff out.

       "I'm going to help you cook. You need lessons." She says as she stands on the balls of her feet to see higher in the pantry.

        "What do you feel like having?" She asks, then looks at me and her eyes widen. I've just been watching her, in the middle of the kitchen, just standing there. Looking. Like a creep. A weirdo. What the hell am I doing here?

       "Winter?" I watch her eyes narrow, she's looking at me and I can't say a word. I instead blink at her, watching her watch me. I watch her take a breath in and out, then head my way as she grabs my arms, not stopping her own movement. She brought me to the chair in the kitchen and I sat down getting her hint.

       "Take a breather and let me know how you feel in a couple of minutes. We're going to make that pasta you like, but.." She stops. "better looking." I smile, she hasn't even tasted it and already thinks it's bland.

       She runs a hand from the top of my head to the back of my neck before walking off back into the kitchen. I see her pull out her phone, type something in, and stand it up against the backsplash on the counter with what seems to be a recipe.

       I watch her as she goes to the pantry, the fridge, and the seasonings, as she pulls out the pots for the sauce and noodles, and the pans for searing the chicken.