I stood over the silver sink, warm water filling the metal bin halfway with soap bubbled at the surface. The last of the small plastic plates were stacked to my left with bits of food left over from the lunch shift that had just concluded. I brought my hands to the base of the stack and placed the plates in the water-filled sink, beginning to scrub away.
"I hope you're excited about dinner," Harry called out as he cleaned our prepping surfaces.
"I'd be more excited if I knew what we were having," I responded, chuckling slightly.
"You'll find out soon, calm down," he said, a smile apparent in his voice. I continued scrubbing the plates one by one, resting them on a drying rack once they were leftover-free.
"I'm excited, but I've got to run over to the commissary once I finish these dishes," I said. "I'm not sure my usual attire will fit the dress code for the evening." Once I finish scrubbing the final bowl clean, I place it on the drying rack and dry my hands with a towel. I turn to face Harry, only to find him propped against a countertop. He grinned before quickly scanning over my outfit.
"Yeah, I suggest you do that," his grin grew into a wide smile and he let out a friendly chuckle. I balled up the towel I had dried my hands with and threw it at him. The towel softly hit his chest before cascading over his folded arms. I reached around to my lower back and untied my apron, then swiftly lifted it from around my neck and placed it on the counter. I made my way toward the exit.
"See you at dinner!"
"See you then," he responded.
I pushed my way through the door and followed the dingy hallways to the commissary. I kept my eyes down to the ground the entire way, watching the tips of my boots alternate beneath me. I could see boots pass by me a time or two, but most of the people of The Sanctuary were at work, not wandering the halls. I followed the growing sound of voices to an open pair of doors, I looked up from the ground and found myself at the commissary. There were a few tables set up in the larger room, people were selling clothes, art, snacks, games, and anything a person could want in an apocalypse.
I closely examined each table I passed, taking note of the products on display and their point values. I noticed a few items that I hoped wouldn't be purchased anytime soon, so I could buy them myself when I saved up. For now, I had enough points for a decent dress to wear tonight. I shuffled my feet across the concrete and over to the women's clothing table. There was a selection of dresses hung from a line behind the older woman who was selling the clothes.
"Hi," I greeted her.
"Hello," she said in a cheerful voice. "How may I help you?"
"I'm looking for a dress," I said vaguely. I didn't know exactly what Harry was planning, but I saw it as an excuse to look nice, which I hadn't had much opportunity to do until I got here.
"Well we have a variety of choices," she said as she turned to face the dresses. I studied each dress, there were a few red dresses, one baby blue dress, one yellow dress, and one black dress. I pointed to the black dress.
"How much is that one?" I asked her. She turned away from me and faced the dress I singled out.
"Oh, it's fifty points, but-" I cut the woman off, earning a quick glance from her.
"I'll take it," I said.
She turned back to the dress and unclipped it from the line. She gently folded it before handing it to me.
"Name?" She asked.
"Jade Thatcher," I said. She gave me a nod as she wrote my name down on a sheet of paper along with the number of points the dress was worth.
"Thank you," I said as I walked away. I quickly left the commissary and headed up to my room.
-
Harry told me to leave my shift early to get ready for dinner, he said he would take care of the dishes. I stood in front of my mirror, only minutes until I had to leave for dinner, and looked over my outfit one last time. The tight fabric of the black dress clung to my body but didn't reveal a boney frame like I had when I was first held prisoner. My flaxen hair flowed just past my shoulders and met my chest. I exited the bathroom and found the pair of flats I had worn to dinner with Negan. I slid my feet in easily and made my way out of my room.
Without realizing it, I had made it to the entrance of the kitchen. My feet had already memorized the route to my workplace. I pushed my way through the door, revealing a small table set for two in the middle of the kitchen, where our prepping stations normally reside. Two chairs faced one another from opposite sides of the table, and two small bowls that rested on top of the wooden surface were accompanied by two wine glasses and silverware. Harry turned to face the door, previously hunching over the stovetop. He was wearing black jeans and a black and white striped t-shirt. A grin formed on his lips and he looked me up and down.
"Jade," he began walking towards the table with a small pot in his hand. "You look lovely."
"Thank you, Harry," I said as I made my way to one of the chairs. "What do we have here?"
I watched as he scooped out cream-colored rice, instantly recognizing the dish.
"Risotto, huh? Can't say I ever thought I'd be eating risotto ever again." I pulled the chair out in front of me and sat down.
He let out a hearty laugh. "Well, we have an abundance of rice and we still had some vegetable stock. Cream, butter, you know the rest." Once my bowl was portioned, he filled his own. He then took the empty pot back to the stove and redirected it to the refrigerator. When he turned around, I noticed he had a bottle of white wine.
"How the hell did you get that?" I asked him.
"Bought it from the commissary yesterday," he explained as he popped the cork. He sauntered over to my side of the table and filled my glass appropriately before filling his glass slightly higher. He set the bottle on the table between us and sat down in his chair. "Dig in," he motioned to the food.
I didn't hesitate to reach for the utensils and dig in. It smelled amazing, and it tasted even better. I moaned at the flavor, I hadn't had something this delicious since my dad was alive.
"This is phenomenal," I said as I covered my mouth with my empty hand. I rested my fork on the edge of the bowl and reached for my wine glass, taking a quick sip. I placed it back down before continuing to eat.
"So how was your birthday?" He asked, beginning a conversation.
"My birthday was alright," I answered truthfully, shrugging my shoulders.
"What'd you do?" He took a bite of his risotto.
"Spent a lot of time with Negan, unfortunately," I said before shoveling another pile of risotto in my mouth. I met his gaze and his eyebrows were raised, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"That sounds rather shitty," he said as he took a swig of his wine.
"He made me spaghetti for dinner and thought it was a Michelin star meal," I said sardonically. He let out a hearty laugh and picked up his fork.
"Is my meal better?" He asked as he took a bite. I nodded my head in satisfaction.
"Way better," I answered.
The kitchen door flung open, causing me to drop my fork. Both Harry and I looked up at the abrupt noise, only to find Negan smirking like a maniac. His eyes bounced between Harry and me as he approached the table, Lucille at his side.
"What the fuck is goin' on in here?" He asked, his voice booming at the end of his rhetorical question. "Some sort of lovey-dovey dinner bullshit, hm?"
Harry turned to face me briefly before slightly turning to Negan, staring him down in the corners of his eyes.
"Harry made me dinner for my birthday," I answered for us. Negan gave a nod.
"Did you use your points on all of this, Harry?" He pushed, gesturing to the food on our table lousily with his leather-coated index finger. Harry nodded slightly.
"Yes sir, I used my own points-"
"Well, I'll give you all of those points back," Negan exclaimed as he leaned backward. "It's on me." He turned his gaze toward me, checking over my outfit. His same arrogant grin shining bright through his stubble as he did so. He reached for my wine glass and quickly downed the rest before shooting me a quick wink. I never should have told him about my plans.
"Enjoy your dinner, sweetheart," He said suggestively. My expression remained blank, I was clearly unimpressed by his 'spontaneous' trip to the kitchen. "That color looks fucking great on you." He turned toward the exit and left without another word. I immediately turned to face Harry, his expression mixed with irritation and nerves. We waited a while before we spoke again, not wishing to attract any more unwanted visitors.
I apologized for the brief interruption, and Harry assured me it was no big deal. The rest of the evening was filled with light conversation about our life before the demise of mankind. I imagined Harry fitting in with everybody in Alexandria, his kindness and generosity were traits that each Alexandrian held within themselves. I couldn't help but be selfishly grateful that he was here, though, because he was the friend that would get me through this shit show of an experience.