Grilled cheese and carrots it would be.
Her front door opened and closed as she was topping each sandwich with its second piece of bread. She reached into the drawer for a spatula and pressed down on the bread.
“Feeling better?” he asked, with a kiss on her cheek.
She coughed into her shoulder before answering. “Well enough to make you dinner. Thanks for taking care of me.” The butter in the bottom of the skillet sizzled when she pressed on the sandwiches again.
“It was my pleasure,” he said, rubbing her back. Her muscles and joints were still sore, but at least his touch felt good. When she’d been really sick, she hadn’t wanted anything touching her skin, especially his warm hands.
“Anyway, I enjoyed doing it.” He gave her bicep a squeeze.
The only way to get a good crust on a grilled cheese sandwich was to use moderate heat and keep pressing the bread into the butter. If she was paying more attention to Levi’s touch than to her cooking and pressing down a little harder than necessary, then the crust would only be better. “You enjoyed taking care of me while I was laid up with the flu? That’s a little weird, don’t you think?”
Especially after last night’s conversation and feeling like an invalid in a Victorian novel, she’d had plenty of time to think about his comment about “years caring for Kimmie.” The corrosive thought that she was the chronically ill replacement for his beloved wife was probably the fever talking. But, like the soreness in her joints, the thoughts lingered, sinking deeper and deeper into her marrow. And him saying things like “I enjoyed doing it” only gave the thoughts sticking power.
She probably should have let it go, but what if it were true?
He was close enough to her that she could see the confusion on his face from the corner of her eye. “I liked being with you. Even though you were sick, not because you were sick.”
She flipped the sandwiches. Both had a perfect golden crust, and the cheese inside already looked gooey. A few more minutes and dinner would be ready. She pressed the sandwiches into the pan again. “Can you wash a couple carrots? Dinner is grilled cheese and carrot sticks.”
When he stepped away from her to the sink, his brows were still crossed. “That sounds good, but I would have made you dinner.”
“I needed something other than soup,” she said. Her words were harsh and ungrateful, even to her own ears. Water poured out of the faucet. She closed her eyes. The water turned off. Levi still hadn’t said anything.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him.
His shrug was loose, uncaring, which immediately made her suspicious. Levi wasn’t a loose, uncaring kind of guy. “You were sick of soup. Nothing to be sorry about there.”
“I’m not sorry for being sick of soup. You ate soup every night with me, so you’re probably also sick of soup.”
His head tilted in what she thought was agreement, but he seemed to be concentrating so much on peeling carrots that she wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry for sounding ungrateful. All you did was take care of me. You didn’t have to.”
“No,” he said, finally putting down the carrots and the peeler and turning around to face her. “I didn’t have to. I wanted to. Because I care about you, not because you needed me to. It was a simple thing I could do that would make your life easier. Up until this week, I didn’t think that was a bad thing.”
“Up until this week?”
“Dennis got the job and is moving to Bozeman. We have lived in the same town since we were kids. We went into the mines together. We were in the mining accident together. And, hell, he married my sister.”
Taking the carrots out of the sink and getting them to the cutting board seemed to absorb all of Levi’s attention, but she didn’t press him. Nor did she remind him that she knew most of this information. This seemed like the kind of story someone would stop and start and finish in their own time.
“Brook called me on Monday and accused me both of being with you because you’re sick and of pushing Dennis to apply for the job in Bozeman because he’s sick.” The fall of the knife on the cutting board as carrot tops skittered on the counter underscored what he thought of both those ideas.