When I stormed out of my house to confront Joel, it was not my intention to stay all that long. My plan had simply been to get to the root of why he had been avoiding me, accept whatever that answer may be, and then go home. It was certainly not in the plan to end up completely naked in his bed, nestled loosely beneath the worn cotton sheets with my head resting gently against his chest.
His heartbeat thumps steadily in my ear, his chest rising and falling with slow, contented breaths. I allow one hand to rest near my chin, palm flat against the warmth of his skin.
"What were you working on when I barged in?" I ask, watching the way my hand moves with each breath he takes.
"I was startin' a new carving," He answers, fingers slowly running up and down the bare skin on my back. "Didn't make it too far though…"
"Like the crochet hooks?" A twinge of guilt hits me as I realize I never actually acknowledged his gift. I tilt my head up toward his face only to find that he is already looking down at me. "I never said anything about them, but they're perfect. They're all I've used since you brought them to me,"
"I hadn't made anything like that before," His hand stops at my waist, fingers holding soft yet secure. "But you had mentioned not having the best stuff, so I thought I'd give it a try. I'm glad they've worked out for you,"
"Do you always make such thoughtful gifts for people who openly hate you?" I smirk, pushing closer into him as he tightens his grip.
"Only the pretty ones," He teases, and I hear his muffled heartbeat pick up ever so slightly.
"You think I'm pretty?" My lips purse playfully as a punctuation to my coy remark. In a synchronous motion, Joel pulls me in tighter by my hips and runs his other hand through my hair, eyes locked with mine as his body shifts so we are nearly face to face. His hand runs along my jaw from my hair to my chin, ensuring my focus is set nowhere but on him.
"Darlin', you're beautiful,"
We are both fully naked, bare skin pressed together and limbs entwined, yet his words feel more intimate and vulnerable than anything physical that has taken place between us. My mind is hazy, consumed by the outcome of my ambivalent motivations for coming here, and no words seem to do any justice to the way he is looking at me.
"You should have led with that back at the dam," My hand slides up from his chest to his neck, the space between our lips beginning to close again. "I would have been less angry about you showing up,"
"If I had said that to you, you would have shot me without any hesitation…" Joel's laugh vibrates against my lips as I pull him in, each kiss becoming greedier as though I will never get enough.
What snaps me out of the moment is feeling his hand brush the hard skin along my neck, the scar from my near fatal encounter more exposed than ever before. My response is largely internal, yet my body unintentionally pulls back from him with the most subtle movement, and he notices.
"You alright?" He senses the shift in my demeanor, concern flooding his face as he loosens his grip to allow me space. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No, no, you didn't. I'm sorry…" I untangle myself from him and roll flat onto my back, pulling the sheet close to my chest and drawing in a slow, intentional breath. He has been nothing but kind and generous and immensely attentive, the farthest thing from causing me any discomfort. The wound on my arm is still sensitive, but that is not the problem. "It was a reflex. I'm just…I hate the way my neck looks. I know that's so shallow and unimportant, but I do."
Joel lays on his side, watching patiently as I work through my response with an instinctively protective hand hardly covering the scar that spreads from underneath. It seems foolish to feel insecure over him simply seeing this small part of my body when I've already had sex with him without any bit of hesitation.
"You don't need to apologize," He slowly brings his hand to my stomach, as though he is waiting for my permission to touch me again. I lean into his touch, allowing him to pull me back in his direction. For once, I am unsure what to say, but I do allow my hand to cautiously fall away from the scar as our eyes meet.
"I happen to like your neck," He continues, dipping his head slowly past my chin. He places a line of slow, intentional kisses down my neck to my collarbone, the softness of his lips a contrast to the tight, sensitive skin. "Let me show you somethin'…"
I resist the urge to deflect with humor and watch as he lays on his back and pulls the sheets down to his waist. A patch of gnarled, raised skin about the size of a golf ball disrupts the lower left side of his abdomen. The scar has healed but is clearly still fresh, likely no more than a year old.
"Shit, Joel…" I force myself to look away from the scar and back up at him. "What in the world happened?"
"Impaled on a piece of rebar." He explains, pulling the sheet back up and turning back toward me.
"Impaled?" The thought alone makes my stomach churn. How he survived an injury that severe is beyond my comprehension. "How did you make it through something like that?"
"Ellie," He says, looking back down in the direction of the scar as though recalling a memory. "She saved my life. Got me stitched up and went through a snowstorm to find antibiotics. I'd've died if not for that girl…"
Judging by the appearance of his scar and the fact she went through snow, I can assume this happened after they left the dam. That entire timeline is still a mystery to me, but this does not feel like the moment to push it. Honestly, the more time goes on, it feels less important. While I am always curious to know what caused their return, my interest is no longer motivated by anger.
"That must have been terrifying, for both of you,"
"It was," He lifts his arm for me to curl back under and hold me again. "Almost as much as watching a runner tackle you to the ground."
"That scared you?" While it should not surprise me, it genuinely does. The way he handled himself in that moment was so direct and collected.
"Of course it did. All I saw was you hit the ground and blood pouring from your arm. I was sure you'd been bit…" He seems to hold me a little closer at the thought.
I have tried to not think about the fear that overtook me in that moment, especially because it feels pointless to dwell on something that did not happen. But it feels different hearing it from him, knowing that he felt the same fear in that moment despite appearing stoic.
"I thought I was too…" I admit, my words trailing off slowly. I can feel my eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. The warmth of his body against mine lulls me closer and closer to falling asleep. A single, breathy yawn escapes me despite my best efforts to suppress it. Tonight has brought several emotional highs and I can feel myself slowly coming down from them all. I want to dive deeper into his perspective on that day, to know what he felt when he thought I was done for, but I am struggling to keep myself coherent enough to ask.
Joel says something, but I do not register anything more than a deep mumble. He kisses the top of my head as I finally drift off, fully relaxed and at ease in his arms.
—-
When I wake up, the bed is empty.
In the morning light, Joel's bedroom looks twice the size it did the night before. Not only had it been dark, but I was too preoccupied with helping him quickly remove each other's clothes to notice the design choices in the space. An arm chair made of now cracked leather sits in the far corner along the same wall as the windows facing the bed. To my left, a record player sits surrounded by a crate of vinyl records, a select few framed along the shelf above. The middle of the room is split by a large, rectangular archway, on the opposite side of which sits a lower dresser and the entrance to the bathroom and closet.
The sun is barely rising as my feet slide from the bed and meet the threadbare rug beneath. I keep the comforter pulled up to my chest as the cold air bites against my bare skin. It takes a moment to fully wake up and center myself. I rub both eyes with my thumb and pointer finger, drawing in an elongated breath before dropping my hand and opening them again.
I slept with Joel.
I slept with Joel and I am waking up naked and alone in his bed. My heart begins to palpitate as the reality of this situation sets in. There is no turning back from this and the fact that he has disappeared in his own home puts me on edge. What was he thinking when he woke up this morning with me laying next to him, clearly in a deep enough sleep to not sense him moving?
Before I can allow any kind of worry to fully set in, I need to get dressed. My clothes have to be in this room somewhere, but they are nowhere to be seen as I look around. I vaguely remember kicking my jeans toward the end of the bed and him throwing my shirt toward the now empty armchair. Where did he move my stuff? And where the fuck did he go?
I'm not going to find them by sitting here, so I have to just accept that I am going to be walking around this room completely naked until I figure something out. Despite everything that took place here last night, I somehow feel more exposed this morning. The warm glow that slowly leaks in through the window panes casts a new light, quite literally, on each curve, contour and bruise of my skin and the disheveled sheets on his bed.
That's when I spot them. A neatly folded pile of clothes - my clothes - waiting expectantly atop the dresser. The folds are imperfect but intentional and clearly done with care. I slide them on with relief, feeling at least slightly more pulled together now that I am not stark naked.
I make my way cautiously out onto the second floor landing. My steps are slow and timid, almost fearful as I navigate this space without any idea of what waits or where I should be heading. Once I reach the top of the stairs, I can hear movement coming from below. A familiar, enticing aroma fills the space and I feel my stomach rumble intensely.
The sounds and smells grow stronger as I descend the stairs, the distinct sound of sizzling and scraping coming from the direction of what I assume to be the kitchen. There was no time wasted moving from the entryway to his bed, so the rest of the house remains unknown territory to me. I use the sound as a guide as I make my way through.
Joel has his back to the door, all his focus given to the pans on the stove in front of him. A mixture of bowls, cracked egg shells, and an opened parchment wrapper lay out on the counter near him. The hair along his neckline is damp and his clothes different from the night before, indicating he had time before I woke up to not only start cooking but to shower as well. I lean against the doorframe as I watch him work, my presence still unnoticed as he removes crispy strips of bacon from the crackling grease.
"Someone's had a busy morning," I try not to startle him while so close to a hot pan, so I wait until he begins turning around to speak. He sets the plate of bacon and eggs on the island occupying the center of the room, wiping his hands on the closest dish towel before making his way over to me. His hands rest on my hips, but instead of pulling me closer, he stares down at me with a softness I have not seen from him before. A fluttering sensation stirs in my chest the longer he looks at me and I feel my cheeks flush with warmth.
"I didn't want to wake you," Despite having been up longer, his voice is still husky with traces of sleep and his already thick accent comes on the slightest bit heavier. "You were sleepin' so peacefully,"
"I didn't even hear you get up," I wrap my hands around him and take a step in closer. He smells like soap and freshly cooked bacon, clean and smoky and enticingly warm. The flutter in my chest slowly morphs into consuming desire and my hips press toward him before I even realize what I am doing.
"You hungry?" He asks, hands tightening in response to my movement and the corner of his mouth perks up in a grin.
"Starving," I respond, taking in another breath that threatens to push me over the edge. It is like every furious, resentful emotion I ever harbored toward him has poured itself into fueling my desire.
"Good, because I made us some breakfast. Why don't you come sit down and let me make you a plate?"
"Man, I should just show up unannounced and angry more often…" I tease, my ability to fight the urge to kiss him becoming more and more weak by the moment. As if he is able to read my mind, his hands make their way from my hips to the small of my back and he pulls me in, leaning down and bringing his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle but deep, drawing me into him with tenderness and sincerity that is different from the intense passion which overtook us both the night before. It leaves me breathless, torn between contentment and a growing desire for more. Without a word, I allow him to lead me into the kitchen toward a small table on the opposite wall. I take a seat as he goes toward the island, preparing two plates of bacon and eggs before walking back to the table. He sets the plate in front of me before taking the seat across the table.
"This smells incredible," I barely get the compliment out before scooping a bite of egg into my mouth. They're perfectly warm and buttery, fluffy without being too soft. "I had no idea you could cook,"
"I ain't really much of a cook," He admits, taking a bite of bacon and seeming amused as I ravenously consume another bite. "Breakfast is about as far I get, so it's lucky really that you were here for that instead of another meal,"
"So what you're saying is it's a good thing I slept over?" I raise a flirtatious eyebrow in his direction, feeling embolden enough to step into this topic.
"I believe it was," He nods, smiling to himself before looking back in my direction. "How're you feelin' about that decision?"
The slightest hint of trepidation comes through in his voice, possibly unsure of how I might answer this question. No matter how positive my reaction the night before, there is always the chance that the morning could bring new feelings. I buy myself a second to collect my thoughts by taking another bite of my eggs, chewing slowly while considering my next words.
"I feel good about it," I nod, my tone calm and rational in an attempt to conceal the tiniest bit of fear of rejection that sits within me. I'd love to come up with some kind of witty remark, but nothing comes to me, so I simply await his response.
"Me too," He agrees, pausing as he sets his fork down and watches me intently. A slightly uncomfortable feeling begins to grow between us. It is much easier for me to operate in extremes, such as anger or passionate desire, than it is to approach a conversation with such rational honesty.
"So, um…" I hesitate, almost forcing myself to form the question. "What exactly do we do now?"
"Honestly, I ain't really into one night stands," He leans forward on his elbows, hands clasped together over his plate as he studies my reaction. Somehow this does not surprise me. Joel is many things, but noncommittal is definitely not one of them. "And I don't believe it's oversteppin' to let you know I've been feelin' a certain way about you for awhile now. But I can't speak for you, so if you feel different then I won't say another word and we can go back to how things have been. I won't go makin' you feel guilty for not feelin' the same way."
My ability to be vulnerable occupies a small space within me that feels unusually diminished since Joel came into my life. Between disclosing my life story two weeks ago and having sex with him last night, I am damn near depleted. While walking away from this and accepting his offer to return to normal would be the safest outcome, I can no longer deny that I am severely attracted to this man. But I also know how quickly speculation spreads through this town and the way half truths become facts. No option seems like an ideal choice.
"I don't know," I want to be completely up front with him, but the thought alone is overwhelming. This time, I do allow myself to cope with a little humor in my response and just hope that he is not offended. "I'm not a hookup person either. I don't know if you've noticed it or not, but opening up to people is not exactly my strong suit. But the idea of just diving into something scares the shit out of me,"
His guard falls for a split second and I see the hurt in his eyes. The look on his face tells me I am fumbling this, and I realize my words sound so much more negative than I am intending.
"Like I said, I ain't gonna force you into nothin'..." He begins, but I cut him off in a hasty attempt to recover and clarify what I am trying to say.
"I want to be with you, whatever that looks like," I blurt out, and his expression immediately shifts. "We've come this far, so it'd be stupid to act like it never happened, or like we don't want it to happen again."
"I don't think we have to decide what that looks like right away," He agrees and relief visibly floods through his posture. "That's something we can figure out over time."
"We can," I nod my head slowly, contemplating what we are agreeing to and the many outcomes we could face. "I do think we should just keep this between us for right now though, just until we've had time to work that out for ourselves,"
As he ponders my suggestion, he strokes his chin and watching the way his hand moves causes my brain to short circuit for a moment. There's no way I could pretend this never happened.
"Alright," He finally speaks, leaning back slightly in his chair and dropping his hands into his lap. "Just between us for now. Though it is pretty funny imagining the look on Tommy's face if he knew…"
"He wouldn't believe you, even for a second!" The idea of telling Tommy is equally horrifying and hilarious. I would never hear the end of it.
"Still," Joel chuckles, "It's a funny thought. I'm supposed to head out with him shortly, but I won't say a thing."
"On patrol already?" I go back to finishing my breakfast, grateful that our conversation is veering back toward a less personal subject.
"Not yet. He wants to go check out this spot he'd been scopin' out south of the ski lodge - thinks there may be a good fishing spot we can start using. You headed out to the gardens this mornin'?"
"No, I actually have today off," I realize how unintentionally well-timed this encounter was, "I'll probably go home to shower and change and then see if they need help at the community center,"
"You really don't like to rest, do you?" He shakes his head in disbelief as I shrug.
"I just like having something to do,"
"How about this: I'll go check out this spot with Tommy while you go about refusing to take any time for yourself, and then tonight we can get together and see what that looks like," He suggests, waiting patiently for my response.
"Are you trying to get me back in bed, Miller?" I joke, raising my eyebrows suggestively.
"Maybe," He smirks. "Is it working?"
"Maybe," I do my best to mirror his expression back, "I guess you'll find out after your little fishing trip with Tommy,"
"I guess so. I reckon we should get movin'," He checks the time on the nearby wall clock. "Shouldn't be too many people out and about just yet, so I doubt they'll see you leavin'. And the last thing we need is Tommy kicking in the door to find me and walking in."
"We definitely don't want that," I agree. "So…tonight? Since you made breakfast for me, why don't you let me make dinner for you?"
"I like that sound of that plan," A coy smirk spreads across his lips, building anticipation for what tonight may hold. "It's a date,"
As far as I am aware, I made it home without anyone spotting me leaving his house. Most people enter the greenhouses from the town center side as opposed to the Rancher Street gate, so the risk was fairly minimal to begin with. I allow myself to take an extra few minutes in the shower since my mind is racing as it attempts to process the unexpected turn my life has just taken.
What do we do from here? It's not like dating is the highest priority of most people in a world dictated by survival and resilience. But the collapse of society does not negate the need for human connection and living in a place like Jackson makes it somewhat easier to get a taste of when life was simpler.
I don't think we have to decide what that looks like right away.
Joel's words echo in my mind as the water flows over my shoulders and races down my body. There is something about his approach to our situation that fills me with a comforting excitement. He has not entered this agreement with a specific expectation - he wants me, whatever that looks like. It seems like such a simple concept, but it is one that feels so far-fetched when held up against my lived experience.
I can't stay home and for once it is not entirely due to my inability to stay idle. If I am alone with my thoughts I am going to drive myself insane overthinking every aspect of the past 24 hours. I waste no time getting dressed and heading into the center of town, hoping there is any kind of task I can assist with at the community center. Worst case scenario, I can always head toward the stables and relieve someone of stall cleaning duty, but I am hoping it does not come to that.
The lull between meals means that the center is largely empty with the exception of a few small groups who stay behind sipping their drinks and talking. Two young children chase each other around the groups of chairs, giggling as they weave back and forth. I make my way to the kitchen and feel my optimism rising - the end of a meal means there will be plenty of dishes to wash and lunch to prepare, so I should not be without distraction for a while.
"Go ahead and start prepping those carrots and onions," Esther sets a stack of cutting boards in front of two women assigned to the kitchen rotation before turning back to the dough she is kneading on the countertop. "Once I get these loaves rising, we'll start putting together tonight's soup,"
Aside from Joel and Maria, I haven't spoken to anyone from leadership since the meeting. I have no idea what to expect from Esther as I wait hesitantly by the door.
"Hey," I speak up to get her attention since she does not seem to notice my arrival. "Need an extra set of hands?"
"Oh, hey! I didn't even see you there," She doesn't look up from the dough and she drives the heel of her hand back down. "You can jump on dishes if you're really dying to do something,"
"Of course," I force a congenial smile and head over to the industrial sink where stacks of food crusted plates and mixing bowls sit in wait. Her tone is not exactly dismissive, but for Esther it is notably neutral.
The faucet squeaks as I loosen the handle and begin filling the sink with water. As I wait for it to reach an appropriate depth, I grab a clean rag from the pile and reach for the recently refilled bottle of soap. The task is perfectly repetitive without requiring much thought, which is exactly what I need to kill some time and keep me busy.
By the time I finish the dishes, they have only begun to start prepping the soup. I drain the water from the sink and pick up a fresh towel to begin drying each plate on the rack. Normally I would leave them to air dry, but considering that no one has spoken to me since my arrival, I doubt I will be welcomed to join their communal meal prep.
I have only made it through a small stack of plates when the kitchen doors open and Maria lets herself inside. She begins to say something to Esther, but stops unexpectedly when she spots me working by the sink.
"Do I need to remind you that Robin suggested you return to light work duty?" She sighs, but does not seem surprised to see me. "There's a reason you have today off, and picking up extra jobs is not it."
"I'm not staying long," I tell her. "I'll go crazy if I'm sitting at home all day, so I'm just helping with the dishes."
"Then don't sit at home. It's a beautiful day out! Go find a spot to read or crochet or go get something to eat. Getting out of your house doesn't automatically mean finding work,"
"And I will go do at least one of those things after I finish drying these," I tell her, carrying a stack of dry plates over to the cabinet where they are stored. In reality, I need to figure out what I am going to cook tonight since I have now promised Joel dinner and will need to go get those ingredients.
"Do not let her do anything else," Maria turns to Esther, who seems indifferent to the disagreement. "I'm serious, make her leave the moment she is finished."
"I'll try my best," Esther's reply is short and direct. Maria catches the irritation in her tone and decides to drop the subject, returning to the conversation she initially came here to start. They discuss upcoming menus for the next few weeks as the seasons start to shift and supplies vary in availability.
"Tommy and Joel went to check out a possible new fishing spot," Maria tells her. "If that proves fruitful we may be able to work more fish into the meals, which would be helpful."
"We haven't really fished south of the lodge before," I speak up without thinking and realize they may not appreciate my interjection in their conversation. "What made Tommy want to check it out?"
"How do you know they went south of the lodge?" Maria gives me a confused look and my heart nearly stops. It hits me all too late - the only way I would know where they went is if someone told me, and I haven't seen Tommy since the meeting. Obviously, the only person who could have told me would be Joel and he would have had to have told me at a suspicious hour of the night.
"Oh, um…" I have to recover from this, but am unsure how. "I ran into Joel this morning when they were leaving. I went over to check the chickens and he was cutting through to go to the stables."
"Chickens and dishes…" Maria's frustration with my insistence to work distracts from the information I have let slip and for once I am thankful that my bad habits get under her skin. "Seriously, just let the rest of those dry and go rest. Don't make me physically remove you from this space,"
"Aye aye, captain," I roll my eyes and hang the towel over the edge of the sink, ready for any reason to get out of this space. Between Maria's frustration, my loose lips, and the tense energy coming from Esther, a change of scenery is needed. I politely dismiss myself and head out the back door, providing myself a moment alone in the back alley to collect myself before figuring out the rest of my day.
-
I go with a meal I can make without much stress. The butcher had a freshly cut batch of pork chops available and we just pulled a crop of green beans from the gardens, which are ingredients I can confidently combine and make without much fuss. If I am going to be working in an unfamiliar kitchen, I need to be making a familiar dish to counteract the challenge.
"Are you sure I can't help you with anything?" Joel stands at the kitchen island as I season the pork and prepare to place it in the pan heating on the stove.
"I'm sure," I tell him for the second time. "You made me breakfast, I am making you dinner. It's a fair trade,"
"I didn't mean to initiate any trade," He says. "What if I get you a drink? Will you let me do that?"
"I'll allow it,"
"What would you like?" He starts walking into the dining room where the drink cart is stored.
"Surprise me!" I call out as the pork chops sizzle loudly in the pan. "Just get me whatever you're having. I'm not picky,"
I expect him to object, but instead only hear him set down two cups before opening the lid of an unknown bottle. He returns to the kitchen and sets a glass of amber liquid on the counter by the stove before taking a long sip from his own.
"Whiskey?"
"Did you want something different?" He asks, watching my expression to judge if I am joking or not.
"Nope," I take the glass with my free hand and sip before turning my attention back to the stove. "This is perfect."
The energy between us is different, but in a positive way. There was only a brief moment of uncertainty and nervousness when I first arrived and did not know what to expect from him now that we have established whatever this is that is going on between us. But every bit of possible tension faded away the moment we shared the same space. I've felt comfortable with him before, but never with this kind of immediacy. Usually when we play cards I catch myself tensing my shoulders or second guessing my words for the first hour, then finally being able to relax not long before we wrap up. Maybe the problem all along really was this underlying, unacknowledged desire we both were clearly holding for the other and now that it has been unleashed, we can truly be comfortable.
Joel stays by the island, giving me appropriate distance while I cook and recounting the fishing expedition Tommy led him on. Though not as successful as they hoped, it was not completely a bust and they plan to keep checking out the area for the next few weeks. Tommy's ankle has finally begun to feel normal, but we both believe he is likely to overexert himself and make it worse all over again. By the time I serve our food and take the plates to the table, he is pouring our second drinks and the sun has already set, so I pull the curtains over the kitchen window as a precaution. I've come close enough to blowing my own cover today that I am not willing to take any chances.
"This is not a fair trade," Joel sets his utensils down between bites. "This is way better than plain old bacon and eggs,"
"Well, I can think of a few ways you can make that up to me later," I toss a suggestive look in his direction before popping a green bean into my mouth. He returns the expression, cutting another bite from the pork chop on his plate.
"Yes ma'am," The last time he called me ma'am it sent me into a blind rage, but the way he says it now sets something off within me, like a smoldering flame burning deep within my core. "I believe I can see to that,"
"Joel! I found it!" The back door flies up with alarming speed, crashing against the door stop before being slammed closed again. Ellie flies into the mudroom from the back porch, a small plastic case in her hand and an almost manic look in her eyes. "I found the fucking movie!"
We are both fully clothed with a complete table length of space between us, doing nothing more than eating dinner, yet I feel shame consume me as though we have been caught fully naked and participating in some kind of explicit act. At first, no one speaks. Ellie stands frozen in the mudroom doorway with Joel's back to her as he makes very calm, collected eye contact with me. I have no doubt that my expression is the direct antithesis of his and unfortunately, I am the one whose face she can see.
"Hey, kiddo!" He recovers quickly, turning in his chair to face her and speaking as if this is the most normal situation in the world. "We were just having some dinner and catchin' up since we've both been so busy since gettin' back."
"Since when do you have dinner together?" She furrows her brows and begins walking into the kitchen as if she wants to get a better angle on the situation. "I thought you just played those bullshit card games sometimes,"
"We do," I tell her, looking over at Joel briefly for reassurance. "We just hadn't had a chance to really talk since you guys got back and I wanted to do something nice since he pretty literally saved my life with this whole arm injury situation…"
I'm talking too much. There was such an easier, simpler way to make that statement and my forced verbosity practically screams my insincerity. Before Ellie can push it, Joel steps in and diverts attention back to her original exclamation.
"What movie did you find?" He asks, motioning toward the case in her hand. The distraction works as she immediately takes the bait, reaching out to hand it to him.
"The fucking dinosaur movie! The one we talked about at the museum!" Her enthusiasm returns and his face lights up with recognition. "I was telling Cat and Dina about it today and they said Jesse had talked about a movie like that before, so they asked him and he immediately knew what they were talking about and we found it! There's been a copy in the fucking library this whole time!"
"Well, I'll be damned," Joel flips the case open, revealing the disc inside. It is red with white letters that I can't make out from where I sit. "Looks like we're gonna be able to have that movie night after all,"
"That's why I came!" The excitement fades a little from her voice as she looks back over at me. "I was going to see if you could watch it tonight, but it's okay. We can do it another night…"
"Oh," Joel chooses his next words carefully, closing the DVD case and holding it with both hands, "Maybe we can -"
"You guys should watch your movie," I interject, nodding toward Ellie in hopes that she will side with me. "I'll be out of here as soon as I can get these plates cleared up, so you'll have plenty of time before it gets too late."
"You don't need to do that," Joel says, handing the movie back to Ellie. "How about tomorrow night, kiddo?"
"Why don't you just watch it with us?" Ellie turns to me, ignoring his suggestion. "From the way Joel described it, I'm pretty sure they're just normal dinosaurs, so you don't have anything to worry about."
"What movie is this?" I hold my hand out in her direction and wait for her to hand it over.
"Jurassic Park," Joel answers for her. "What do you mean normal dinosaurs?"
"Do they talk?" Ellie asks him with a tone that suggests this is a perfectly normal question to pose.
"Why the hell would they talk? Of course they don't,"
"See!" Ellie ignores him once again and turns back to me. "Normal dinosaurs, no talking."
"Exactly the way it should be," I take on a mockingly stern tone as I consider her suggestion. On one hand, I don't want to insert myself into what is clearly something they have been excited to plan. But on the other hand, the idea of going home when I had expected to stay is deeply disappointing.
"Can someone please fill me in on why you think the dinosaurs would talk?" Joel's expression is hilariously confused, which causes both Ellie and I to burst into laughter.
"If they talked, she wouldn't watch it," Ellie explains for me. "She hates talking animal movies,"
"She's right, I do," I nod enthusiastically. "Animals are not meant to have human voices and I am willing to die on that hill,"
"This is the weirdest fucking conversation we have ever had," Joel does not seem to fully grasp what we are saying, but does not attempt to try. "Alright, alright, we can watch the movie. You are welcome to stay and join us,"
I can sense the depth of internal conflict raging within him by the way he looks at me awaiting a response. I don't know how often Ellie initiates these kinds of activities, so it likely means something to him and he wouldn't want to pass it up. Then there is the disappointment of the unfulfilled promise that the night we had planned possesses, which now fades away at the prospect of a family movie night.
"I'd love to stay," I tell him, deciding that even if we won't be making good on leveling our trade, it is better to spend any kind of time with him than to go home early. "When we finish eating, I'll clean up this stuff while you all set up the movie,"
"I'll go ahead and do that!" Ellie takes off toward the living room without another word, movie in hand and excitement renewed.
"I am so sorry," Joel's apology comes out in a whisper, practically a hiss. "I had no idea she would be around tonight or that she would have found the movie already…"
"It's okay," I assure him. "Seriously. She's so excited and it's been ages since I have seen Jurassic Park, so I'm actually kind of excited too."
"You sure?" He brings back the look from earlier as he tries to determine if I am serious or not.
"Promise. You'll just have to spend a little more time thinking of how you'll make it up to me another night."
Joel helps me clear the plates and insists that I leave them in the sink for him to handle later. I would protest more, but Ellie practically drags us into the living room as she grows ever impatient waiting for us to arrive. Once we enter the room, the seating arrangement causes my heart to drop. The only seats are a cream colored loveseat and a slightly darker recliner and ottoman, and Ellie has already plopped herself on one side of the loveseat. This means Joel and I have no choice but to sit on opposite sides of the room, putting even more distance between us as the night continues to change.
"Your seat awaits, old man," Ellie points her foot toward the recliner, indicating this to be his usual spot. "A dinosaur watching dinosaurs. This must be pretty damn emotional for you,"
"Very funny," He groans, settling into the recliner and picking up the remote from the side table, squinting slightly as he identifies the correct button to press. "Try to behave at least a little. We've got company,"
Ellie scoffs at him as I take the seat next to her, sitting a little too stiffly on the cushions while trying to bury the flurry of disappointment building inside me.
Fortunately, once the initial disappointment settles, the night goes much better than anticipated. Throughout the movie, Ellie provides sporadic commentary on the parts of pre-Outbreak culture that seem to her as far from reality as the dinosaurs and Joel and I take turns explaining each one to her. It has been so long since I have seen one of these movies that it almost feels like watching it for the first time again. Once the movie reaches the final 15 minutes, a low, rumbling noise begins to float softly from the other side of the room.
"Right on time…" Ellie checks the clock on the mantle and nods, motioning toward the recliner. "He does this every single fucking time we watch a movie. The last 15 minutes hit and BAM! He's gone."
Joel is asleep, head leaned back against the back cushion of the recliner, snoring contently with his lips slightly parted. The cool, fluorescent light of the television casts shadows across his face and he is undisturbed by the raging Velociraptors reeking havoc on screen. When the movie ends, Ellie goes to the basket near the window and habitually lays a blanket out across him before turning off the television and returning the disc to its case.
"Does he really always fall asleep like that?" I ask quietly, debating what my next move should be.
"Oh yeah, every fucking time," She laughs quietly, sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. "The first few times it really pissed me off, but now I think it'd be weird if he didn't do it. It's fine, we've got a system now. I turn off the movie and cover him up before going back home, and eventually he'll wake up and take himself to bed sometime in the night."
"I can finish cleaning up," I offer, hoping this will provide me enough time to get her back outside and not cause suspicion by staying behind.
"Don't worry about it," Ellie shakes her head, looking over at Joel as a stuttered snore racks his body for a moment, followed by the return of the quieter, peaceful ones. "Don't want to disrupt the routine. I'm glad you stayed though. It was fun."
"Thanks for inviting me," I tell her, starting to stand up and accepting that I will be sleeping alone tonight despite my previous expectation. I cannot protest much more without raising suspicion. "You sure you've got everything?"
"I'm sure. The front door can creak sometimes, so just be careful not to open it too quickly. You get used to it eventually," She explains. I quietly return to the kitchen to collect my bag which held the dinner ingredients (as well as my clothes for the night), and make my way to the front door, careful not to wake him with any sudden creaks.
As I walk across the street to my door, I expect to be flooded with disappointment that the night did not play out as planned. I think about the way he looked at me, how his "yes ma'am" sent me nearly reeling right there on the spot, and how we are not even a full two days into whatever this is and already conflicts have arisen. But instead, I feel a hopeful, light feeling begin to spread throughout my chest. I think about the way his eyes lit up when Ellie shared her excitement with him, the effortless way they joked with each other about his age and her misconceptions about life before, and the simple routine of the blanket as he sleeps in the recliner. To be with Joel is so much more than banter and intimacy and secret, curtain-closed meals. It is being allowed in to witness these moments with the girl he considers his own, to be witness to the life they are creating here as well.
Whatever this is between us is so much more than sex and secret meetups - it is opening up our lives to each other to share these little moments of the mundane and routine, like building something substantial and real.
I am beginning to realize that whatever this is between us may be so much more than I thought.