Living with Sam has turned out better than you ever thought. When you come home, he’s there; when you cuddle up on the couch, he’s there; and best of all when you go to bed, he’s there. The place isn’t that big but you don’t care just as long as you get to come home and see him. He saved your life a while back and without knowing it you saved his. You’ve healed each other’s wounds and being blissfully happy.
You wanted to make dinner for him one night and got this great new recipe. Getting it all prepared and popping the dish in the oven you wanted to use this platter that was your parents’ in the top cabinet. Stretching you barely opened the thing. You knew Sam was in the next room reading and you didn’t want to bother him, besides you’ve gotten along with reaching things before he moved in.
Trying to stretch a little further but the very tip of your finger is all that graze it. Pulling over a chair you begin to stand on it but it wobbles a little and being afraid of heights you didn’t risk it. Letting out a deep sigh you try to climb the counter. After figuring out what leg to raise first you hear the floor creek. Looking over you see Sam leaning in the doorway, “need some help there?” You hop up and down trying to get on top, “nah, I’ve got it.” Straining as you try to keep steady on the slippery top he moves closer.
One hand on the door and the other on the platter as you drag it off the shelf. Balancing you slowly bring it down and nearly touch the counter top as you wobble a little. Feeling your heart jump into your throat but Sam moves in and takes the platter from you. He moves and sets it on the table and comes back to you. Placing a hand at your back and the other under your legs you put your arm over his shoulders. He lifts you off the counter, “thank you.” He smiles down, “anytime.”
He raises you up so you kiss. Moving your hand to his chest, “Sam… dinner.” He lets you down and you pull it from the oven and set it on the stove. He gets the plates out and sets them down. “Can you bring me the platter?” He does and you dish the food on to it, “thanks again.” He stands behind you and runs his hands up and down your arms. He leans down, “well if someone would just ask for help and not be so stubborn…” “I thought that’s why you liked me.” He lets out little muffled laugh, “well that’s just one part I like about you,” he kisses the top of your head.
THE END