ALL MY LUCKY STARS

Olivia

Alex had spent the last couple of days at the hospital with his dad, and I took that time to really pull things together for my programs at the library.

Monday came and went, and I decided on my way home from work that I wanted to cook Alex dinner. I went to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients to make a crowd favorite (at least Monica's): minestrone. I picked up onions, carrots, pasta, and tomatoes (which I will char and then puree for a better flavor), and my favorite part was red potatoes. It's not traditionally put in the dish but it was something my dad always did when he made it. He'd say, "There's nothing better than potatoes and a hearty sauce," and I can't really disagree with that. And no celery because fuck celery.

I also picked out a bottle of wine– a very expensive one, I might add– and then went to my favorite bakery for a box of fresh, warm, chocolate chunk cookies that went a little heavy on the sugar but I had a very sweet tooth, and a delicious loaf of bread.

I hauled all of this crap to Alex's apartment and buzzed up. Without even asking who it was, he let me in. He looked sad when he opened the door, but I saw the corners of his lips rising just a little bit.

"I know I didn't ask, but I thought you could use a home-cooked meal," I said. He nodded and let me in, staying silent.

After I had arranged everything out on the counter, I felt his hands on my waist, slowly inching to the front of my tummy, and his head resting on the top of my back, enveloping me in a tight hug. "I missed you," he said.

"I missed you, too," I said, turning to him and planting a kiss right on his cheek. "How are you feeling? How's your dad?"

"He's better it seems." He retreated from my body and plopped down on the couch, letting out a loud and pained groan. "What are you making?"

"Minestrone. I also have wine, and fresh cookies," I said with a smile. He finally smiled back. Small, but visible.

Progress.

I started chopping the vegetables and roasting the tomatoes, while I put on some jazz music in the background. Alex was still on the couch, but I knew he was watching. I'd occasionally turn around to get a glimpse, and his eyes were still locked on me. The smell of everything was filling up the apartment– the garlic, the tomatoes, the spices– and it was making my stomach growl. I realized I had made almost double the amount we probably needed.

I set the dining table, lighting the candles and putting our places down, the glass of wine in the middle, and two pairing wine glasses. Then the big pot of minestrone and the garlic bread.

"Buon appetito," I said. Alex had changed into a nice button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his mid-forearms. It made me melt, just like that first night.

"Thank you so much for this," he said, moaning when he took a spoonful. "Fuck, that's amazing."

We didn't talk much. Our silence was comfortable, and every few seconds we'd lock eyes and just smile, our mouths still chewing, music still playing. The food was really good. I think it was my best yet. Monica would be sad she missed out.

"I'm sorry I've been distant." Alex broke the silence to say.

"It's really not a problem. Your dad is sick." I reached out to hold his hand.

"I know we're not... You didn't owe me anything," he said.

"Do you want to be something? More? Than friends, I mean." I asked with a hopeful tone. My heart was pounding. Never in my life had I gauged a conversation with a man like this. I was the one trying to get answers. That had never been the case with any man a day in my life.

Until now.

"I...," he hesitated. "I do. Do you?"

"I do, too."

"So... dating," he said, a smile infecting his face. I raised my wine glass and he did too. We clanked them together.

"Dating," I said.

"Dating," he repeated, almost in disbelief.

"Boyfriend and girlfriend..." I said playfully, nudging him.

"Thank god," Alex said. "I don't think I could've survived another second without the confirmation, honestly."

"Hmmm, if that's the case, why didn't you ask?" I asked, taking a sip of wine.

"I wanted you to come to me since you said you wanted to take it slow. I didn't want to push you." I don't even think he realizes that he's just sweet, all the time. But it was kind of fast. It has been just a month since I met him. But I knew this wouldn't end like the last time.

"You wanted me all this time?"

"Who wouldn't?" He said, looking at my eyes, and then down to my lips, then back up to my eyes. The simple act alone made blood rush down south, and I began blushing. "There are those apples," he said, finally giving one of his full Alex smiles.

"They're your apples now."