Crack In The Ice

Chapter Twenty-Three (pt.2) [Eli]

After a while, Owen says he needs to go home. I take his cue and we leave together.

When we get to our street, I hesitate in front of my doorstep. Owen tells me his offer still stands, but I decline.

I'm surprised to see Elliott on the couch when I open the door.

"You're home," I say.

Elliott silences the TV with the press of a button. "Yeah. Took the day off."

"Right."

"Did you eat yet? I was thinking about making some dinner."

"Mh. I need a shower."

"Right," he says. "I can get started on the food while you do that."

I nod, before slipping away.

I take my time in the shower. I know I'm doing it on purpose. Stalling. I can hear Elliott moving around in the kitchen when I come out of the bathroom. I get dressed quickly, then scroll through my phone for a few minutes until I start to feel stupid hiding away in my bedroom like a kid.

When I come into the kitchen, Elliott is taking a steaming casserole out of the oven.

"Smells nice."

He smiles. "Thanks. It's Scarlet's recipe. Chicken and veggies casserole. Thought it might be good with your diet during the season. Though I don't really know what kind of diet you're on."

I look around the room. "She around?"

Elliott frowns. "Scarlet? No, she's at her parents'."

"Mh."

"Set the table while it cools a bit?" He asks.

"Sure."

He hands me clean plates and cutlery from the washing machine and we set the table for two in silence. When we're done, he brings the caserole to the center and we sit across from each other without a word.

"It's good," I say after swallowing my first bite.

"Thanks." Elliott gives me a small smile. "Heard Dean's turning into a bit of a chef."

"Yeah. He kind of developed a new talent. Gets experimental and everything sometimes."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

I smile. "Good, usually."

Elliott smiles too, nodding.

"Maybe..." I clear my throat. "Maybe you should come over some time. So he can show you."

My brother looks at me.

It's been five years and he never came to my new place. Nor Calgary in general, for that matter. Five years, and neither of us even mentioned it.

"Yeah?" Elliott says.

"Yeah." I shrug. "Dean really likes showing off his cooking. He goes out of his way to learn people's favorite dishes and deserts."

"So he bakes too?"

"I guess."

"Scarlet says she can cook any dish you like, but deserts are a different skill."

"Wouldn't know, honestly," I say. "Suck at both."

"Me too."

"This is really good though," I point my fork at my plate.

Elliott chuckles. "This and breakfast are the only things I can make."

I smile. "You always did manage to make your pancakes turn out like mom's."