In retrospect the first conversation didn't go quite as he thought it would. There was more nervousness on his part than he had anticipated. It ended with him holding her while she cried, the hopeless cry of anger at the things you have no control over.
Things such as being an alien consciousness downloaded to a human psyche.
Evan couldn't think about that now. He stood, at the moment, watching her sleep, she had cried herself out in his arms while he held her. The cool wet touch of her tears on his thumbs as he wiped them away, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
He had come to this planet he had blown her world apart, it was his fault at some micro level that her brother was in Wright Patterson and what would be happening to him was happening, it was causing a war in his heart. These were things outside of his control. A small lump of guilt settled in his gut.
She had been in his arms, heart breaking, because he had ripped her world apart. It was wrong. He shouldn't take so much pleasure in the physicality, he should have told her who and what exactly he was the second she opened her eyes. Now every second that ticked on made it that much harder to face that truth.
He should have, and he didn't. Looking at her chest rising and falling, nose slightly stuffy from crying and the eyes becoming puffy, he resolved that he would come clean about it...somehow.
In the dark her pull was more intense.
No Cassie. No, no, no.
Lips at her ear, the heat radiating from her body, the longing to enter and hold her at the core of her being. He resisted, with hands on her face, he was able to resist. Doing that would not be in his best interests. Yet, the need to want to take away her pain was greater than he imagined it would be. To share her burden would have been kindness a small recompense for having caused so much damage.
He was aware of her vitals, the way she had nuzzled at his breath made him think of something, he left her sleeping. Downstairs in the kitchen he opened the cupboard and plastic bag rustled at his touch. They had been Val's favorite, the Hershey's kisses. The twelve systems that made up his physical being alerted him to her needs before she even knew what they might be.
Adjusting the blanket over her body, he brushed her hair from her forehead gently fingering a strand in his hand. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he set the foil wrapped chocolate on the bedside table and walked away.
…
Out in the cold night air his mind is more clear without her overpowering his senses. He makes his way back to the highway and continues his work. The work of a grim reaper, grim silencer, silencing the human noise. He does what he has the heart to do. The thing that Cassie did. Now he does it for her. If he doesn't he will come. If that were to happen she wouldn't be safe.
Two nights later after watching her sleep and reading through the journal he comes across the passage where she discusses her plans to kill the first human she finds eating a cheeseburger. It was one of the many things that drew him in about her, her sweet simplicity at the good things lost. Yet, this was one small thing that didn't have to be lost.
A few minutes later he was in the kitchen pulling out his mother's old hand crank meat grinder...
"Mom, you do know they make fancy attachments that can hook up to your cake stand mixer?" He watched as she cranked the wheel and he held the casing steady as the meat mixture went in.
"You're right Evan but then I would be here doing this work by myself instead of hanging out with you." She smiled as she wiped her arm across her forehead and shook out the sore muscles. "I'd rather spend the time with you. Or would you rather be at Lauren's?"
Evan felt a flush creeping up his neck, "It's not like that mom."
She smiled at him and added more meat to the top of the grinder. "I'm sorry, it wasn't kind to tease. I do appreciate your help. It's important to know these things, this is your great grandmother Agnes' recipe and your father's favorite."...
After her death, the death of his father, and the subsequent deaths of everyone he had ever known he was grateful for the knowledge passed onto him by his family, it made keeping himself alive and comfortable that much easier providing structure to days that stretched out like an infinite sea.
How many times had he watched her kneading dough and making buns, or canning, or making the sausages the provisions they ate throughout the year. His family wasn't poor and they could afford these things at the local grocery store in town but because his mother stayed at home and was part of the historical society and had an award winning garden she took pride in saving the family money by her craft.
Evan threw a few more pieces of firewood into the stove. The kitchen door slammed as he went out to the barn to retrieve a pound or so of the deer meat. The meat would have to thaw before he could process it. That gave him plenty of time to mix up the dough for the soft rolls. Checking the stove and adjusting the small logs and embers so the temperature would be adequate for the bread.
Opening a door off the hall he went down to the basement and selected a few potatoes, back in the kitchen he scrubbed them clean with some of the snow that was still accumulated on the porch. No sense in wasting water.
Checking on the dough he punched out the air and quickly divided it up into about twelve rolls. He never made large batches after most of his siblings had died he couldn't go through it fast enough for it not to go bad on him. Finally they were in the oven.
He got to work on the meat now that it was finally thawed through. Cooking had always been something he enjoyed, perhaps if the mechanical engineering hadn't worked out….what was he thinking? The end was something he knew was coming all along, wishes like he was thinking were human notions. Instead he focused on cracking the peppercorns into the bowl with the meat, seasoning with salt and dried onion and garlic as well as thyme and a pinch of paprika.
Everything went into the meat grinder and in a few minutes he had ground meat. Smelling the mixture he added a few more spices and wrapped everything up put it in his grandmother's stoneware crock inside the deck box, overkill for sure, but it kept his food safe from scavengers.
The warm smell of the bread was filling the air. He knew from past experience that he had a few more minutes. Working quickly he cleaned the meat grinder washed up the few dishes and set everything to dry. The golden smell of the baking wheat rolls intensified as he opened the oven door to pull them out, the scent filled the kitchen.
Again he set out to do the task at hand, restless for the night to be over. He was unsure how his gesture would be received but it was the first time he felt that nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach since before the awakening, the first time Lauren and he kissed. This felt more intense more intimate...perhaps because he knew her in some ways better than he had known Lauren. Reading her private thoughts, memories of her body, the dream came over him like a crashing wave, he did his best to put it from his mind, it felt like a violation of her more than anything else.
Looking through the scope made all the erroneous thoughts dissipate. A hundred and fifty yards away his intended target crumpled to the ground. A silver chain connected and another circle completed. He headed back to the farmhouse.
When he woke up he felt the small sense of deja vu like the anticipation of waking up for Christmas long ago. Quit being ridiculous. He chided himself as we went to retrieve the ground meat. More wood was fed into the stove and the cast iron skillet was set to heat. He shaped the meat into patties large enough for the rolls. The potatoes were also sliced into steak fries set aside next to the stove.
When he was ready he lopped a small bit of lard into the skillet and waited for it to melt into it's clear liquid form before adding the patty to be rewarded by the angry hiss of the meat in the hot fat. The potatoes went in too, no sense in having cold food. He flipped the burger at the appropriate moment and shook the pan and the potatoes for a moment to get the even browning for the meat. He sliced two rolls and proceeded to eat the first patty, he adjusted some seasoning scooped out the potatoes onto a baking sheet and slid them into the oven to finish by roasting them. In went the second burger patty and he watched it in much the same way he stalked his prey.
When he deemed it ready it was fished out and onto its respective bun and out came the potatoes and he put a generous portion on her plate. He popped a few steak fries into his mouth, the outsides were crispy and the inside soft and steaming hot, he sprinkled them with salt and took the plate upstairs.
Evan could tell the moment she saw it that he had got it right, it would have been wonderful to have a slice of cheese perfectly melted over the burger but that wasn't possible it didn't matter, the way she voraciously dug in was all he cared about.
"Where'd you get the bread?" He didn't miss the grease rolling down her chin and lost his train of thought for a moment but replied simply with the truth, "I baked it."