Don unlocked the door and walked into the apartment. The first thing he noticed was a delicious smell of something cooking. He felt his stomach growl in anticipation. It had been another long day and lunch had been a protein bar and a bottle of water from the vending machines at the crime lab. He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was a little after 7pm.
"Angie? Whatcha doin' baby?" he called, and then after seeing that she wasn't in the kitchen, he went to look for her in the office. He found her sitting at the computer. She didn't turn and look at him. She was staring at the monitor.
"Hey sweetie, what's up?" He looked at her and noticed that she was crying. He felt a shock of alarm strike through him, and he knelt beside her and put his arms around her. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"I got three orders," she said.
He shook his head, not understanding what she was talking about. "You got what?"
"I got three orders for websites. Three, Don."
"But that's good, right?" Why is she cryin'? This is great news. It's what she's been workin' for... I don't get it...
"Isn't that good?"
She nodded, still crying, still looking at the monitor.
"So whadda you cryin' about?" He wiped tears from her face. He wanted to go get some tissues, but he didn't want to walk away from her right now.
She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
"I'm gonna go get you some tissues, hold on," he said, and got up. He brought the box back and put it on the desk, then pulled the other chair over and sat down next to her. He plucked two tissues from the box and handed them to her. "Here, blow your nose." She did as he asked, and wiped her eyes too.
"Ok, now tell me why you're cryin'."
"I just can't believe I got three orders. Three! I'm crying because I'm just so blown away. I'm happy but I'm just shocked, you know?"
Now he understood. This is what she's wanted, what she's been workin' toward, and now it's happenin'. Her dream is comin' true. They're tears of joy and gratitude.
"I get it. Tears of joy, huh? And surprise? But please do not tell me you still don't feel like you deserve this. Ok?"
"Ok, I won't tell you that. And I'll try really hard not to think it." She took a deep breath. "Two of them are going to use my templates, but one is a custom that I'm going to build for them. Is that not fucking awesome?"
Don smiled. "Yeah baby, that's fuckin' awesome. And you'll do a great job. Now will ya please not cry anymore?"
She smiled back at him. "Don, you oughta be used to what a cry baby I am by now."
"I know, I am, but it still hurts me when you cry. So what are you cookin'? I'm starved, and whatever it is smells great."
"Pork roast."
"Cuban pork roast?"
"Not exactly. More like latin than cuban."
"Uh-huh. Well, I don't mean to sound like the stereotypical man-home-from-work, but what time's dinner?"
"The roast is done, and the potatoes should be done too. Let's go get it on the table."
"Sounds good to me."
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Angie pulled the roast from the oven. Don took the salad out of the fridge and put it on the table. He set the table while she pulled another dish from the oven.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Caramelized sweet potatoes. I couldn't find sweet potatoes so it's actually yams but there's not that much difference. Sit down, Don, and let me get this on the table."
"Ok, I'm sitttin'. Do we have tea?"
"Yep. I'll get it." She put the roast and the potatoes on the table and handed him a carving knife and fork. "Start slicing the roast and I'll get the tea."
He started to carve the roast. "Damn this smells great. Lotsa garlic, huh?"
"Yeah. I got it from the Food Network, and it's one of Emeril's recipes so you know it's gonna be loaded with garlic."
"This meat is fallin' apart. How long did you roast it?"
"A total of four hours. It was actually served with fried plantains but I wasn't sure you'd like that so I went for the yams instead." She put two glasses of iced tea on the table and sat down.
"Plantains. Those banana-lookin' things?"
"Uh-huh. They're different, and I wasn't sure you'd like them."
"Well, you know me. I'll try anything once."
"I'll remember that next time." She watched him take a bite of the roast. He closed his eyes and she smiled. He likes it. Damn, I love to see him enjoy my cooking.
"Oh, Angie, this is delicious. You've outdone yourself with this one."
Thank you, Emeril Lagasse. It was a great recipe, a pork loin roast rubbed with a paste made from herbs, garlic and olive oil, and marinated in a combination of orange and lime juice, then roasted. She'd been looking forward to eating it after smelling it roasting all afternoon.
"It is good, isn't it? I was looking for latin or Caribbean recipes and this one sounded great, and not that hard to make."
"You gotta take some of this to Marilyn. She'll be proud of you," Don said around a mouthful of roast pork.
"You think so? Well I'm glad you like it."
"It's fantastic. You really like to cook, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do. Especially for you."
He smiled at her, a smile that lit up his face and made his blue eyes sparkle. "Lucky me," he said.
Goddess, I love him so much. He's the sun that shines on my life. My foundation, my refuge, my lover, my best friend...
"Whatcha thinkin'?" he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"Hm? Oh, just happy thoughts. This is nice, isn't it?"
"This is heaven." He turned his attention to his food.
She smiled. "Oh, I almost forgot the tortillas." She got up and opened the oven again, pulling out a packet wrapped in foil. She put them on a plate and set them on the table. "I figured they'd go better than bread or rolls with this meal."
"I'm gonna roll 'em up and dunk 'em in the pan drippings," Don said with a grin.
"That sounds like a great idea. But save room for dessert."
"Dessert! You gotta be kiddin' me."
"It's just ice cream. Vanilla ice cream with mangoes in ginger syrup."
"What, you tryin'a fatten me up?"
"I don't think that's possible. Besides, I love you just the way you are. And I like to cook for you. You appreciate it. And you deserve it."
He dropped his gaze and she saw him blush. He shook his head and took another bite.
"What?" she asked him.
"Nothin'. I'm still gettin' used to havin' you take care 'a me, that's all."
She just smiled. I could start telling him how lucky I feel to have him in my life, how amazing he is and how privileged I feel to be able to take care of him, but that would just embarrass him even more. He knows how I feel, and he'll show me how he feels in his own way, later...
"So you're not worried about doin' the website, are you? I mean, you know you can do it, right?"
"Oh yeah, I was just stunned to get three orders. Like you said, it's my dream come true and I was just overwhelmed with gratitude, is all."
"I can't wait to see what you come up with. I know it'll be great."
"Thank you, sweetie. I've got ideas tumbling around in my head already."
"Who are you doin' the website for? I mean, what's the site about?"
"She's an artist, and she wants to start selling her art online, and have an online gallery. So I have to come up with something really classy to show off her work."
"You'll do a great job. I know it."
Now it was her turn to blush. She smiled at him. "You're a great cheerleader Don."
"You deserve it."
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Don went on swing shift that week, working 4pm to midnight. At first Angie had complained about his rotating schedule, since he also did the graveyard shift, but by now she was used to it. She'd given up trying to keep the same hours that he did, for which he was grateful, since the lack of proper sleep had made her irritable and prone to emotional outbursts. She was still working for Marilyn three days a week, and after a couple weeks of grumpiness and defiance on her part he'd finally had to pull rank on her and point out how she was only hurting herself by trying to keep up with him. It hadn't been a problem until they'd moved in together and she had to deal with his schedule up close and personal. She still got upset with him if he went into overtime and didn't call, so he tried hard to find time to call her and let her know he was ok. He knew he owed her that much. Living with a cop was a challenge. Living with one who didn't keep her posted if he was running late had to be excruciating.
He unlocked the door and let himself in. It was almost 1am. He heaved a sigh of relief at finally being able to key down for the night. He loved his job, but that didn't stop him from being tired at the end of a long day.
The light was on in the office. He frowned slightly and went to turn it off, and then he saw Angie at the computer.
"What are you still doin' up?" he asked as he came into the room.
"Hm? What time is it?" she asked distractedly.
"It's almost one in the mornin', Angie. See me, home from work?"
"Shit. I had no idea it was that late. I've been working on this site since I got home from the market. I stopped for dinner and then came right back to it."
"You're supposed to be in bed."
"Don, I'm off tomorrow. I don't have to get up early. Don't worry, I'm not gonna overdo it. There's a plate for you in the fridge."
She didn't really need to tell him that. She always left dinner for him. If she didn't cook, she picked up something, a sandwich, chinese, whatever. There were times when he felt guilty for knowing that she'd make sure he was fed. Like he was taking her for granted. But when he'd expressed that to her she'd told him that he was being silly.
"I love to take care of you. You know that. You're not taking me for granted."
"I don't deserve you," he'd said, smiling softly at her.
"No, I don't deserve you. And we're both fulla shit. Aren't we."
He'd chuckled at that. "Yeah, we are."
He bent and pushed her hair out of the way and kissed the back of her neck. She leaned into his kiss and turned her head and kissed him on the lips.
"Go get your dinner..." she said.
"Hmmm..." he kissed her again. "Dinner? Oh yeah. That kinda food." He straightened up and headed for the kitchen, undoing his tie and pulling it off, and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. He dropped the tie on the kitchen table and opened the fridge. He pulled out the plate she'd left for him. It was always a pleasant surprise to find out what she'd cooked. Not that she always did something fancy. Sometimes it was just a casserole or pasta and sauce out of a jar with some kind of meat added to it. But she paid attention to the details; making a salad, making sure there was some good bread to go with the meal, and there was always a pitcher of tea in the fridge.
He pulled the plastic wrap off the plate. He got a whiff of corn tortillas and enchilada sauce.
"Mexican food, huh?" he called. "You make this yourself?"
"Yep," she said as she came into the kitchen. She took the plate from him and put it in the microwave. "It's a casserole but it's got all the enchilada ingredients. Chicken, lots of cheese, corn and peppers. It was easy to make and it's yummy. I left you some salad too. Sit down and relax. I'll get it on the table."
He knew better than to argue. Besides, it felt wonderful to get off his feet. It had been a long day.
"Would you rather have a beer than iced tea?"
"Yeah, that sounds good. So how's the site comin'?"
"I'm making good progress. I really got into it, obviously, since I was still at it when you came in."
"I know what it's like to lose track of time, as you well know."
She turned and smiled at him. "Uh huh." She put the plate on the table, dished up some salad and got him a beer. She sat with him while he ate, and they talked about his day, and hers, crime fighting and website design. He stayed up and watched his Tivo'd Letterman monologue while she finished up a few things on the site, and then they went to bed. They were both too tired for sex, so they just cuddled and enjoyed each other's touch until they fell asleep.
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Don woke to sunlight streaming in the bedroom windows. He liked having the bedroom on the eastern side of the building. It was great on cold mornings, and he figured that it would be good in the summer too, because the sun would be on the other side, and the bedroom would cool down in the evening. The curtains that Angie had picked out muted the sunlight to some degree, so that it wasn't quite so hard on the eyes first thing in the morning.
She was lying on her side facing him, still asleep. He moved away from her, carefully so as not to wake her, and went to the bathroom. It was a little after 8am. He wasn't sure what they'd be doing this morning... well, I know what I'd like to do... he debated whether to start the coffee now or wait till later. He decided to wait. He went and climbed back into bed.
The sunlight faded suddenly. It was one of those times when a cloud passed in front of the sun and the light dimmed so fast that it made him blink as if something were wrong with his eyes. It had rained the night before and there was more rain predicted for today. A perfect morning to spend in bed with my girl.