"You're welcome." I glance at the table, which is set with real plates this time, along with forks and steak knives. "You washed dishes?"
"Just those plates. I had to use the bathroom sink."
"You can use my dishwasher if you want."
"That's okay. I don't want to inconvenience you. It'll be a while before I have a kitchen again."
"Do you need help with anything?"
"You could go inside and get the coleslaw while I check the grill."
The grill is sitting on the slab of concrete that's just off the deck. He goes over to it while I go inside.
His kitchen isn't even a kitchen anymore. It's demolished to the point that it's just an empty room with big plastic sheets hung in the openings to the other parts of the house to keep the dust down. He's hauled out the old cabinets, the sink? the counters, and the wallboard from the wall he demolished. He's really done a lot in a short amount of time. I expected it to be a complete mess in here but it's all cleaned out and ready for whatever step is next.
There's a blue cooler on the floor and when I open it I see the coleslaw sitting on ice next to bottles of pop and beer. Given his lack of a kitchen, it's a lot of work to host dinner. Now I'm feeling kind of bad for turning him down earlier. It was nice of him to invite me over and go to all this work to make dinner.
I take the coleslaw and head outside just as Nash is coming in. I run right into him and his arms instinctively go around me so I don't fall on my unstable leg.
"You all right?" he asks. My head is right up next to his chest and God, he smells good. I don't know if it's the soap he uses or his laundry detergent or just him, but whatever it is? he smells good. Just like last night.
"I'm fine." I back away.
"Steaks are done. I think we're ready to eat." He holds the door open for me, then holds my chair out for me and I sit down.
"Thanks for dinner," I say as he sits across from me. "It must be a pain to make dinner without a kitchen."
"It's not easy, but it's better than eating out every meal."
"If you need to use my fridge or microwave sometime, just let me know."
"I might just do that." He hands me the coleslaw. "Thanks for offering."
"Or, if you want to have dinner again...I guess that'd be okay." I spoon some coleslaw on my plate.
He smiles. "Are you inviting me over for dinner?"
I shrug. "Not every night but maybe once in a while."
"Like tomorrow?" He laughs a little as he offers me some potatoes.
"Aren't you getting tired of having dinner with me?" I spoon some potatoes onto my plate. "Or are you just asking because you're afraid to eat alone?"
"I told you, I'm not afraid to eat alone. I just don't like it. And as for why I asked, it's because I like you. I like being around you."
"Why?" I ask, because honestly I can't understand why he'd want to spend time with me. I'm not the person I used to be. The old me was fun and normal and liked to go out. But the me that remained after the accident is someone I don't recognize. I'm not fun or normal, and I never go out, except to go to work.
"Hey." I feel Nash's hand on my arm and I look up and see his serious expression. "Why would you ask me that?"
"I just wondered why you always want to hang out with me. You barely know me."
"But what I know of you so far, I like. And the more time I spend with you, the more I'll get to know you. Unless you keep that no question rule going, in which case I may never know the real Callie." He smiles and lets go of my arm. "Do you work for the CIA? Is that why you're so secretive?"
"No." I don't laugh at his joke because my mind is trying to decide if I should just tell him about my family. But if I do, he'll look at me differently, and treat me differently. He'll feel sorry for me and act serious instead of joking around. There'll be a darkness and heaviness in the air. And that's the last thing I want. I just want to continue like we've been doing, having dinner and talking about things that have nothing to do with death or dying or the family I no longer have.
"Callie, is something wrong?"
I smile. "Nope. My mind just wandered for a minute."
He nudges my foot under the table. "You got so quiet I was starting to think you really were a CIA agent."
"Sorry, but no. Just a regular, boring college student."
"You're not boring." He looks at me, his foot still touching mine, and I start to wonder if maybe he's only spending time with me because he's hoping we'll have sex. I know he said that wasn't his intention, but maybe he just said that. Maybe sex really is all he wants. Truthfully, I wouldn't be opposed to that. It's been so long since I've done it. The past year, I haven't even thought about it, until Nash showed up, stirring up that aching need to be with someone like that again. But I don't want us to go there. It'll just complicate whatever this is we have together.
"Nash, we can't...." I set my fork down. "We can't do what we did last night."
"Have spaghetti with your awesome homemade sauce?" He cuts into his steak. "That's too bad because I was really hoping you'd make that again."
"That's not what I meant."