Roomies

Chapter 4: Dancing, Part 1

The next few days are some of the best of my life. Tom and I are getting along brilliantly. It seems the little naked-in-the-kitchen incident has broken down some hidden barrier between us. It's not like our relationship has turned romantic - it's just more...friendly.

"Ugh... Sarah, how can you like this music?" Tom asks, scrunching his face at my choice of tunes for our evening meal preparation. Before Tom, I would have been munching some takeout from somewhere. Nowadays, Tom and I have started preparing meals together. Being home at mealtime is not difficult for me. I'm spending more and more time working on my own designs, making my dining room which is my makeshift office/sewing room look like disaster area. Tom, however, is on set earlier and earlier the last few days. Still, he's been home in time every evening to prepare dinner with me.

"What are you talking about? Grunge is classic," I say, turning down the volume just the same.

"It may be classic, but it is not conducive to making a meal," he says while disconnecting my phone from the speaker and plugging his in. Suddenly, an old rhythm and blues song by Al Green begins to play.

Tom puts down his chopping knife and holds out his hand to me. "Dance with me, Sarah." I smile at him, placing my own knife on the cutting board then wiping my hands on a towel. I take his hand, and Tom pulls me close and begins swaying to the music. As we move together, Tom begins humming softly along with the song, something I find both soothing and sexy.

"You dance beautifully, Sarah," Tom whispers into my hair.

"So do you," I whisper back.

The song ends, but I'm reluctant to let Tom go. He continues to hold me, and we stop moving.

"I guess we should continue with dinner," I finally say. Tom is silent for a moment then finally says, "Right." We disentangle from our embrace, and there's a part of me instantly missing our contact. What's got into you, Sarah? I think.

We return to the kitchen to continue our prep work. The silence between us is awkward until Tom finally breaks it.

"I'm sorry to say that this evening will be the last we have together for some time," he says, focused on his chopping. My heart plummets at his words, but my head sends out warning signals at my heart's response. "Oh?" is all I manage to say.

"Yes. It seems production is moving to night scenes."

"Okay...so I guess I'll see you more in the mornings, then," I say, trying to make lemonade from lemons.

"Actually...you probably won't see a lot of me. It seems that I'll be on set more going forward," he says, still chopping away. At this point, I suspect our salad will be minced within an inch of its life, and I've determined that I hate fucking lemons.

"Oh...okay... Well, I have a number of appointments for design work coming up anyway. It'll work out better this way. You know...without you being home...I can schedule appointments for any time."

"Right. See? Everything works out then," Tom says, looking at me and smiling. Somehow, though, the smile doesn't make it to his eyes.

We continue with our meal prep, then our meal eating, and finally our meal cleanup, but the spell is broken. Just like that, the best few days of my life come to an end.

The next morning I wake to an empty house.  I start my day, prepping for a web conference for a costuming consultation, then for an afternoon appointment with Scarlett. She and I have already met once. Well, actually, I had to separate her from Tom so we could meet. I swear, that man has friends all over the world! I spend the next few minutes thinking of him and wishing we could have our morning routine back. In our little kitchen. In our home.