Page 47 of Frosting and Flames

“I used to come over here to play before her family moved. God, I haven’t thought about her in a long time.” A nostalgic smile crosses her face. “She convinced me to help her draw tiny flowers in the bottom corner of the wall of her room. I was scared her mom was going to catch us.” She laughs lightly. “I completely forgot about that. Are they still there? The flowers?”

“I have no idea. I don’t really go in there.”

She stares at the door a moment longer. “Is Tanner here?”

“No, he’s at work. Should be home in less than an hour.”

She chews at her bottom lip. “Could we go in? Just to check the wall? Or is that an invasion of privacy?”

“Uh…” I scratch at the back of my neck. I threw all the crap I didn’t have time to finish putting away in Tanner’s room temporarily while Rachel is over. “It’s a little messy.”

She shrugs. “I don’t mind some mess. You saw my house.”

I hold back my laugh of disbelief. Her house was picture perfect.

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

When I open the door, she stands at the doorway, gobsmacked. “This isn’t messy. A nuclear bomb went off in here.”

I chuckle nervously. I dumped the laundry from the living room on his bed that he never took care of, along with all the bills and junk mail. And that’s in addition to the other clothes that were already strewn across the room and draped over the desk. Discarded shoes litter the floor—which is also a mess of my making—since they were cluttered all around the front door previously, creating a tripping hazard.

The effect wouldn’t be so bad if his overlarge furniture didn’t make the room feel smaller than it is.

“Yeah, I guess he needs to clean up after himself more.” I usher her forward, hoping she doesn’t realize some of those shoes are mine. “Which wall was it?”

She takes a moment to orient herself. “To the right of the window, where the dresser is. Is it okay if I move it?”

I gesture for her to do what she wants, but she isn’t able to budge it on her own.

“Here.” I slide it over for her.

Her gaze lingers on my upper arms briefly before she turns and kneels on the floor, hand brushing over the wall.

“Must have been painted over,” she murmurs. “It’s been twenty years, though. Guess it’d be weird if it was still there.” She stands and surveys the room. “She had this princess canopy over her bed I was so jealous of.”

I smile, imagining Tanner’s room decorated for a little girl. “I didn’t take you for the girly princess type.”

A faint smile crosses her lips. “I think it was more that she could do whatever she wanted to her room. I had to share with my sisters.” She steps over the debris on the floor, back toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get started.”

I move the dresser back and follow her out to the kitchen, and as I get the ingredients she asked me to pick up, it becomes more and more evident how tiny this kitchen is. Tanner and I never have a reason to be in it at the same time, but with Rachel here, it’s painfully obvious.

Not that I’m complaining. It’s like the walls are conspiring to keep us together, small brushes here and there as she gets a pot out from the drawer under the stove and I retrieve the cutting board she asks me to get.

At the very least, she no longer seems skittish, like I’ve finally broken through the last of her reserve.

She has me brown the ground beef in a pan as she chops an onion with quick, practiced motions, and I’m slightly in awe of her knife skills.

“Have you prepared garlic before?” she asks, holding up the bulb.

“Let’s assume I have zero knowledge,” I tell her, pushing the meat around in the pan, hoping I’m doing it right.

“No one ever taught you to cook?”

I shake my head, hoping she won’t press further. The topic of my parents is… a tricky one.

“Well, you have me now.”

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