Walk With Me

Chapter 7: Third time's the charm

July 2022

Elvis

"You're smiling." I said once she opened the door. I haven't seen her for three days now. And today was meant to be the day she went back to work.

"I thought that was your goal." She closed the door after me and followed behind me.

"I mean, I love to see it. So I take it today was fine." I turned in time to see her shrug. But her eyes held more than the careless attitude her body tried to give off. For the first time in a while, her eyes looked alive.

"I was cooking before you came in. So if you don't mind–" she started to say but I cut in.

"Of course." I said walking towards the kitchen. I rolled my sleeves up to my elbow and washed my hands first.

When I turned back, she was standing at the doorway looking at me. "What do you need me to do?" I asked and she tried so hard not to, but ended up smiling.

"I was going to say, if you don't mind staying in the sitting room alone for some time until I finished."

Oh. I thought. "Why would I stay there alone?"

She frowned for a bit before entering fully into the kitchen. She washed her hands as well and then opened one of the cupboards and pulled out a cutting board. She took a knife from the counter and set them before me.

"Since you want to help. Here. Cut them in thin slices." She said giving me the onions. "You know how to do that don't you?"

"Of course." I said taking the onions from her.

"I'm still trying to understand how you act so freely around here. The way you always enter the kitchen as if you own it." She said standing over the gas cooker.

"It's always been in my mind to say. So no offense." She added. Just the way she said it was amusing. I chuckled.

"Yeah, it does sound like it's been in your mind for a minute."

"No but seriously. You did this the last time too. And the time before that. You just waltz in like you own the place. It surprises me."

"I'm sorry. Bad habit. I basically lived here before you came into the story you know? Muscle memory I guess."

"Muscle memory. Do you like spicy food?" She asked and turned her back again to me.

"Yes. Very well."

"Really?" She turned back with an impressed look written all over her face. "On a scale of one to ten. What's your spice tolerance level."

"11."

"What? Really?" She said laughing.

"Yeah. I live for it." I said and she smiled and nodded. "You?" I asked.

"Same here." She said and took the pepper off the shelf. "I guess we have that in common. How was work today? You're finishing later than usual these days." She commented without turning to me.

"It is busy at work these days. Today was just like usual, nothing new. How was it going back to school?" I asked.

"Are you done with the onions?" She asked and turned to me. She walked to where I was and looked down at the onions. One look at it and she started laughing.

"Elvis, I said thin slices. What in the chunky slices are these."

I looked down at the onions and then back at her "maybe we have different understanding of the word thin? But does it matter anyway? They're going to disappear in the food." I said and she sighed.