Prompt: Place - the kitchen
"You know you really didn't have to do this for me, Sylvie. Both of you have done so much already."
"Oh, please, Mr. Larson, it's my pleasure. You've been in that hotel so long, and you deserve a nice dinner to celebrate you and Dusty coming back home," Sylvie assures the elderly man as she walks him to the edge of the open kitchen. "Now, go take it easy. I've got this totally under control."
Matt watches in amusement as Mr. Larson dutifully heads toward the living room and takes a seat in his recliner. The adoring smile Larson tosses at Sylvie as he leaves is no surprise to anyone. The old man dotes on Sylvie as if she were his own daughter. Casey can understand why. There's no one more giving or caring than Sylvie Brett. She deserves to be universally admired for her ability to bring out the best in almost anyone.
"The renovations look great, Casey," Brett says idly as she checks whatever dish she's preparing in the oven. He was too busy watching her try to charm Larson out of the room to pay attention to what she brought over. "The upstairs looks good as new."
He tips his beer bottle at her and then shrugs dismissively. "Surprisingly, the fire didn't do too much damage. Just had to make sure the floors and the walls would hold up. I really didn't do a lot."
She scoffs with a dry grin. "Right. Sure you didn't. You know, you brush off every compliment I give you? You can take credit for things when you do something exceptional. You know that, right?"
He chuckles and shrugs again. "All the credit I need is in the paycheck."
Her eyes narrow on him as she closes the oven and then she steps into his space, speaking up quietly. "But you don't always charge what you should. I know what the insurance gave him and I have a rough idea of how much the work you did should cost. You definitely cut him a break."
He shakes his head, clearing his throat before knowingly fibbing. "The price I gave him was competitive. If I gave him a deal it wasn't a huge one."
Liar. He's a liar. No way he could charge Mr. Larson what he should have given the fact that the insurance company screwed him over and gave him as little as they possibly could for the repairs. Matt wasn't one to do shotty work just to fit a budget, especially not in the aftermath of fire damage. If that meant a little of the cost came out of his own pocket – well…so be it.
Sylvie smiles warmly at him, causing something in his stomach to flip once or twice, and then squeezes his arm. "You're too good, Matt Casey. Please never change."
He releases a breath he didn't know he was holding as soon as her hand leaves his arm. What was that about? He's not a teenage idiot with a crush so why does he act like one every time Sylvie innocently touches him?
"You should go sit, too," Sylvie encourages. "I'm just going to make a salad while the pies bake. I've got this."
"You sure?" He asks. "I could help you with the salad if you…"
"No, it's fine. I'm sure. Go sit. I bet Mr. Larson and Dusty would love the company," she insists as her hands find his shoulders to gently guide him, backwards, out of the kitchen.
"Okay, alright," he replies with a soft laugh as he holds one hand up in surrender. "I'm going."
He's still chuckling to himself when he takes a seat on the end of the couch closest to Mr. Larson's recliner.
"Banished you too, huh?" Mr. Larson asks with a knowing grin.
"It appears so," Matt replies, placing his half empty beer on a coaster on the side table.
"Gail used to do the same thing to me," Larson admits with a fond grin. "She used to tell me I was a distraction. I'm sure it's the same for a young couple like yourselves."
Matt nearly distractedly nods in agreement until Larson's words actually hit him. He pauses and then shakes his head. "Oh no, we're not–Brett and I aren't–that is to say, Sylvie and I are friends."
Mr. Larson laughs and looks completely unconvinced. "For now. But I see how the two of you look at each other. Trust me, I'm old. I have insight and wisdom you don't yet."
Dusty hops up on to the couch and then sits on Matt's lap. Maybe he's losing his mind but the look on Dusty's face seems to indicate agreement with his owner.
"And if you ask me, I don't think you could find a better match than her, Mattew," Mr. Larson tells him. "Or her a better partner than you. Good people deserve other good people, that's what Gail used to say. She was right, as she so often was."
Can he help it if his eyes drift to Brett as she's chopping vegetables for the salad? It's Larson's fault. He kept talking about her.
"You should tell her," Mr. Larson advises. "Tell her how you feel, and don't tell me you don't feel anything. I may have readers stashed away in every corner of the house but I'm not blind."
"I–I don't know," Matt admits quietly. "We've known each other for a long time now and she was best friends with my ex-wife. Even dated my ex's brother–"
"Doesn't matter," Mr. Larson interrupts. "You've only got a limited amount of time on this earth so when you find something truly good you need to grab ahold of it." He meets Matt's eyes before he continues and Matt can see the unshed tears lingering in them despite the kind smile on his face. He knows the other man is thinking of his late wife and Casey's heart goes out to him. "You never know how long you'll have to enjoy it."
That last sentence stabs right through Casey's heart. The man in front of him is proof enough but he also forces Matt to think back on the friends and family he's already lost and all the things he should have said to them but didn't. The ways he took them for granted. The ways he's taking Brett for granted right now. He keeps acting as though she'll always be there even though he knows that's not true, especially after she left with the Chaplain last year. The idea that she could leave or he could lose her isn't an unfamiliar one.
Yet, here he is trying to deny something that he knows he feels. There's a reason he acts like a teenage idiot with a crush anytime Brett touches him. Maybe he's not a teenager, but he's definitely an idiot with a crush. She impresses him every day – leaves him in awe more often than not – with her big heart, brave spirit, and quick thinking. With what they see every day, it would be easy to become jaded and cynical but she hasn't. He hopes she never will.
Suddenly, he feels the need to tell her this. Maybe not the part about the crush but at least that he–
"Excuse me," Casey says to Mr. Larson as he hands the old man his cat and stands up.
"Take your time," Mr. Larson replies with a chuckle as he and Dusty share a look. Matt could be losing it, but once again he gets the feeling the cat is just as amused by all this as his owner.
Matt clears his throat to alert Sylvie to his presence as he enters the kitchen.
"Twenty more minutes," she tells him. "Then we can eat and the salad's done so I guess I am too."
"Great," he says with a nod. "So that means we have time to talk?"
"Oh," Sylvie says in surprise. "Sure, yes. Of course."
"You, um, called me too good earlier," he begins.
"Yes, I did," Sylvie says with a tiny questioning smile.
"Well, I didn't respond and I should have. I should have told you that you're 'too good' too and that I'm very glad that hasn't changed since you came to Chicago because it easily could have. Or about how I think you make everyone you know, and even people you don't, a better person because of that goodness. You give a lot of yourself to other people and I just want to make sure you know someone sees that and appreciates it." The longer he talked, the faster he talked. By the end he sounded as though he were in a rambling rush. Last time he'd been this open with her, he'd had time to consider his words carefully, but this time he's winging it and it shows.
Nervous rambling or not, Sylvie blushes and smiles bashfully at him.
"I, um–" She pauses and presses a hand to her lips, covering up a bright toothy smile and then tries to discreetly swipe that hand under her watery eyes. "Thank you, Matt. That means more than you know. But really," she demures. "I'm just…treating people how I want to be treated. That's all."
He gives her a fond smile but an exasperated stare. "What was that you said to me earlier? You can take credit for things when you do something exceptional?"
"Turns out I'm not so good at that either," she tells him with a watery chuckle.
He laughs and then surprises himself by take her hand in his as they stand across from each other in the kitchen. "Maybe we should make a deal then? You accept the compliments people give me and I'll accept the compliments people give you. Sound good?"
She squeezes his hand and laughs with him. "Deal. I think I can handle that."
It wasn't the feelings he knew Larson wanted him to confess, but it was something. He didn't want to take Sylvie for granted but he didn't want to rush either. They can move forward one step at a time. Eventually, he'll be brave enough to tell her what he wants, but for now standing in the kitchen holding her hand is all the progress he needs.