I was awake before the sun was in the sky. According to my alarm clock it was 4:30 in the morning. Which was when I usually woke up. I hadn't fallen into bed until almost 1:30 so I tried to go back to sleep to no avail.
By 5, I threw the blankets off of me. I checked to be sure Damian was covered up-which he was- then started down the stairs.
My house was quiet despite six other people being there. I made my way to the kitchen as quietly as possible as to not wake Bobby. I went about my normal morning routine of starting coffee then going into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. Then I started gathering ingredients for breakfast.
As I pulled eggs from the fridge, a voice startled me.
"Good morning," the voice was deep and hoarse.
I caught the egg carton, that I had nearly thrown, as I turned. Bobby was standing, more leaning, against the counter, rubbing his eyes.
"Morning," I said as calmly as I could. "I didn't mean to wake you."
He waved me off. "You didn't. I always wake up this early."
I nodded and sat the eggs on the counter. "Would you like some water while we wait for the coffee?"
He nodded.
I grabbed two glasses and filled them with ice and water.
"So what are you making?" He asked as he sipped his water.
I shrugged. "Breakfast: gluten free pancakes, gluten free apple muffins, berry salad, bacon, ham, and scrambled eggs."
He stared at me for a moment then blinked hard. "That's a lot."
I smiled, "I like to cook."
I moved around the kitchen, feeling his eyes on me as I collected the remainder of the ingredients, bowl, and pans that I needed. I stood at the island, in front of him, and started mixing the apple muffins batter.
"Is that the pancakes?" he asked.
I smiled up at him. "No, the apple muffins."
"What makes them apple?"
"Applesauce. I use chunky so that it also has little bits of apple running through the muffins."
"Oh," he said then the coffee pot beeped. He turned his head toward the sound.
"Get you a cup." I said and stirred in another batch of flour into my batter. "Oh the mugs, cream, and sugar is all on the tray beside the coffee pot."
He nodded then moved over to the coffee nook. "Do you drink yours with cream and sugar?" He asked.
"Depends. Sometimes, I add in some almond milk creamer. Oh that's in the fridge if you prefer that."
I heard the coffee stop pouring into the cup then he moved across the kitchen to the refrigerator. A moment later he sat a cup in front of me. It was even in my monogrammed mug that I always used.
I smiled up to him. "Thank you."
He sat at one of the stools pushed up to the island with his own steaming cup.
I took a sip once I finished mixing the muffin batter.
"Good?" he asked.
"Perfect." He had added in the perfect amount of creamer.
He smiled then took a sip of his coffee to hide it.
"So where did you learn to cook?" he asked as I scooped the muffin batter into the tins.
"My mother was a wonderful cook. She taught me so many things throughout my childhood. But I really learned because both of my parent's had to work a lot when I was a kid so by the time I was 10 I was in charge of cooking dinner every night. I always wanted it to be really good because my parents were great. I spent a lot of time watching Food Network."
I looked over to Bobby and he was watching me intently. I smiled then looked back to what I was doing. I placed the tins in the oven then walked over to the island. He was still silently watching me with such intensity. I had the sudden urge to wrap my arms around him and kiss him softly. I could already feel how strong he was as he held me tightly. I could feel his lips push lightly against mine in a soft kiss, and how just-right his hand felt as it settled against my hip.
"Are you okay?"
My eyes focused back on Bobby in front of me. I blinked a few times trying to unsee myself in Bobby's arms.
"Yeah, sorry." I whispered and grabbed the closest thing to me to give me a reason to look away.
"Do you miss your parents?" He asked, misreading my reaction.
"I do." I started mixing flour and eggs and butter together for the pancakes.
"Where do they live?"
"New York."
"You were raised in New York?"
I shook my head. "No, I was raised in Dallas, Texas. My parents moved once I went away to college."
"Where'd you go to college?"
"Boston University." I said. "I majored in film."
"Oh, that's cool." He said and took another long drink from his coffee.
"I know I'm boring."
"I don't think you're boring." He said quickly.
"Well tell me about you."
"Is it weird that I'm in your house at 5 in the morning and we know very little about each other?"
I giggled nervously. "Maybe. But you're a friend of a friend." I glanced up to see that he was staring at me again. "And now we can be friends."
He smiled as he drank again. I picked up my coffee cup and took a long pull from it.
"What do you want to know?"
"Did you go to college?"
He nodded once. "Yes,"
"What was your major?"
"Englsih."
I laughed to myself.
"What?"
"That was almost my major."
"Really?"
I nodded as I started adding bacon to a sheet tray.
"When did you start wrestling?"
His eyebrows knitted together as he thought.
"Um, 2002."
I nodded once. That was a long time ago.
"How old were you in 2002?" He asked as though he could read my mind.
I sighed softly and moved across the kitchen to slide in the sheet tray of bacon into the oven. I slowly turned back toward him. He was looking at me, waiting for my answer. I wasn't sure what he hoped it would be, but I knew he wasn't going to like my answer. I didn't like my answer.
"I turned 11 in 2002."
He dropped his eyes down to the floor. I walked back so that I could start adding pancakes to the griddle. My stomach sank to my toes. It was unrealistic to think that he and I could be anything other than friends. He hadn't given me any indication that he was interested. Because of course he wasn't. He is fifteen years older than me. He probably thought of me like a child.
I'm not a child.
"You're 15 years younger than me." He said softly, seemingly more to himself than to me. I glanced back at him quickly. He ran his hand down his face as he sighed.
"We can still be friends." I laughed.
"We can." He said quietly.
I wasn't sure what his change in demeanor meant. I focused harder on how heavy the ladle felt as I filled it with batter and the change in weight as the batter pooled onto the hot griddle. I listened as it sizzled and the scent of butter flooded my nostrils. Once the griddle was full, I grabbed a knife and a cutting board. Then, slowly, turned back to the island and started slicing strawberries and throwing the pieces into the bowl with blueberries.
"Anything else you want to know?" He asked. His voice wasn't as even as it had been.
I thought for just a moment. I would have liked to ask why the sudden change and why my age seemed to upset him. I wanted to know if he felt the pull to me that I felt to him. But that was silly. Of course he doesn't.
"What do you like to do outside of wrestling?"
He shrugged. "Not much honestly. I work out a lot. I hang out with Adam and Kyle and Roderick."
"I understand that." I said. "I'm a workaholic. At least that's what Damian used to tell me."
Bobby dropped his mug loudly against the island. I looked up. His jaw was clenched and his eyes darkened.
"You okay?"
"Fine." He said through still-gritted teeth. "Sorry." He grabbed his mug roughly and took a gulp.
I paused slicing berries so that I could flip the pancakes. Then I took a long pull from my coffee as I looked at Bobby who still looked...uncomfortable.
I continued slicing berries, but resigned to not speaking. Apparently, I was good at upsetting him.
I finished slicing the berries then pulled the pancakes from the griddle and refilled it. I pulled the apple muffins from the oven and arranged them into a basket before covering them with a tea towel to keep them warm.
I was aware that Bobby was watching me as I moved around the kitchen. I tried to just ignore the heat of his stare. I tried to just ignore the tingles it sent down my spine.
I added the thick slices of ham into another baking tray and slid it in next to the bacon. Then I grabbed yet another bowl and started cracking eggs into it.
"Would you like any help?" Bobby asked. His voice seemed too loud in the space now that it had been quiet for so long.
"No thank you." I said. "I'm almost done."
"You're fun to watch. I couldn't cook any of this. Well," he stopped to think. "I can scramble eggs. But that's pretty much it."
I smiled faintly. "Well here, since you know how to do this." I pushed my bowl and eggs toward him. "Knock yourself out."
He chuckled but took up cracking the eggs. I finished up the last of the pancakes. Then grabbed an onion, bell pepper, and mushrooms. I settled back on the island and started dicing the onion.
"What is that for?" he asked.
"I thought I would make a frittata too."
"What's that?"
"Its basically a bunch of vegetables mixed into beaten eggs then baked."
He looked amazed. "Oh, that sounds good."
I nodded and grabbed yet another bowl.
I added in the veggies then started seasoning them. Bobby finished cracking the eggs and started whisking them.
"We're going to put half into this bowl." I motioned to the chopped vegetables. "Then scramble the other half."
"Yes ma'am." he smiled up at me.
A few moments later, the frittata was in the oven, the bacon was out, and Bobby was standing over the stove top scrambling the eggs.
"I smell coffee." I heard Rhea before I saw her.
"You do." I called.
She walked into the kitchen and smiled sleepily at me then took in the amount of food around the kitchen. "How long have you been awake?"
"Since 5."
"It's 6 now." she matter of factly then poured herself a cup of coffee. "Morning, Fish." She nodded toward Bobby.
"G'morning." he said as he swirled the eggs in the pan.
I gathered up the basket of muffins and platter of pancakes then went to the dining room to lay them on the table. Soon enough the bacon and the ham joined them. Then the bowl of eggs. Then a heated kettle of coffee, a carafe of orange juice, and a pitcher of water. Then, finally, the frittata.
"Time to wake everyone up." I said.
"I'll get Kyle." Bobby said.
"I'll wake Shotzi. I think she's already awake, just laying in bed." Rhea said.
"Then I'll get Adam and Damian."
A few moments later we were all gathered around the table, filling our plates. Kyle and Adam and Damian all looked sleepy and annoyed they had been woken up. Damian was pouring coffee down his throat by the gallon. Kyle kept giving murderous glances to anyone who made a noise. Adam looked, disgustedly, at the food on his plate. Shotzi ate bird sized bites as she hung her hair over the face, keeping out the light. The hangovers were real this morning.
I sat at the head of the table with Bobby the farthest away from me. I glanced at him as everyone else miserably picked at their food.
"How is everyone?!" Rhea yelled and was met with a chorus of shhhhhh. She laughed.
I glanced up to Bobby. His eyes averted to his plate as though he had been staring at me too. I internally rolled my eyes at myself.