"Ooooh~ something smells good," Linda's singsong voice floated into the kitchen and mingled with the sizzling pops and snaps on the stove as she wandered in still pre-drying her hair with a towel. It was early morning on a Saturday, and Bob was frying eggs in leftovers from the grease trap. It smelled like heaven, and the edges were always crispy. He smiled, turning halfway to chuckle at Linda. Her pink nightgown clung to her in the places that were still damp.
"Yeah, like, uh, always," he replied as he twisted to face the stove again, mainly making sure the eggs didn't stick to the pan. Everyone preferred them sunny side-up. "Thanks." She left the towel slung over the back of her chair and wandered over to the coffee pot next, taking her mug down from the cabinet.
"We should try putting that stuff on toast," she said, not for the first time, and he had to hold in a laugh, "You think it would taste good on toast? There's not a lotta butter left."
"Oh, ha, God no, Lin," he said, then started plating the eggs. He brought the plate to the table as she sat down, mug almost full with black coffee, original roast. "We've talked about this."
"Speaking of toast, where's the toast at?" she said, taking a sip and standing, "I'll try it, I bet it tastes good."
"It won't," he replied, cracking the next egg over the still-greased pan.
"Smells good," she said, sticking two slices of bread in the toaster from the open bag on the counter and sipping at her mug again. She'd brought it over with her, and was now warming her hands with it, sighing. "Ohh, I love watchin' my Bobby cook this early in the mornin'. It reminds me of when we were younger, you remember?"
"Do I... remember when we were younger?" Bob asked for clarification as he cracked a second egg, a hint of a laugh in his voice, "Yes, Lin, I do. Have memories."
"Just a couplea kids with a dream," she said, sounding a little dreamy herself. She yawned as the toast popped up.
"Well, I had a dream, actually. You just piggybacked off of my dream," he shot back playfully, watching the grease sizzle, half-worried she would misinterpret his tone. It was hard to tell, sometimes.
"Excuse me? Your dreams became my dreams when we got married, mister," she said, mock-anger coloring her voice.
"I didn't know you were entitled to my dreams," he laughed out, and she bustled over next to him and picked up a spoon from the counter. "Lin. Lin, don't—"
She was already scooping up a small glob of grease out of the tupperware and spreading it onto her toast, however, and he sighed.
"Smells good, alriiiight~!" she said, then took a bite.
"Alright."
"Oh, blech," she spat a little without actually spitting, heading over towards the sink.
"Yeah."
"Oh, it's gross," she said, like she was surprised.
"Yeah, we. We talked about this," Bob said through another quiet laugh, plating the next two eggs. They weren't fully cooked, but he wanted to eat with Linda.
"Blech," the sounds of her spitting into the basin were drowned out by the faucet, and he set his plate on the table, then took a slice of bread and popped it in the toaster. "Oh, I thought you just wanted to save on grease," she was saying, rinsing her hands and rinsing the grease down the drain.
"The... grease that I clean out every day and we don't always save because there's so much of it?" he asked, watching her scrape her toast off in the sink, then take the cover off the butter with a sigh. "The butter won't melt now, Lin."
"I still want butter, you gotta have butter on toast," she said sternly, buttering both slices. Then she took a bite as if to cleanse her pallet, making little eating noises as she chewed. His toast popped up next, and he took the knife from her as she passed him, then joined her at the table when his slice was buttered.
"That's why you wanted the grease, I guess," he said, and she scoffed.
"I'll grease you if you're not careful," she said.
"What... does that even mean?" he asked, laughing lightly as the two of them started eating. When she didn't answer, he decided to change the subject. "So, today, for the burger of the day I was thinking... the, uh, scratch your spin-itch... burger. Huh?"
"Ha, that's a good one," she said through a mouthful of toast and egg, tone light like it was when she'd just thought of something really novel and made herself laugh.
Bob watched her for a moment, chest feeling a little full, like it did sometimes in their best moments. These domestic mornings did a lot of good for him, got him out of his head. He and Linda weren't perfect together, sure, and he thought about this often, sometimes. Some days it was all he could think about. But he couldn't deny how much she meant to him, and when he looked at her now, he suddenly understood what she'd meant a moment ago. The dawn light filtered in past the curtains and lit the angles of her aging face in such a way that made him remember one of their first sit-down breakfasts in the apartment. He'd made omelets and bacon, and she'd clapped when he set it down in front of her.
He loved her, but sometimes he worried that he wasn't in love with her anymore. He cared for her deeply, and he knew she was with him through thick and thin, and it wasn't just because of the kids. They had a strong bond, and she was his best friend. His only friend, a voice at the back of his mind piped up quietly, despite Teddy's face materializing in his mind's eye.
Quiet moments, sweet moments, moments like this reminded him of why they'd gotten together and why they'd stayed together. In moments like this, he felt like he was in love, but that feeling still belonged to "back then," in his mind instead of "now."
He wondered sometimes if they would ever sit down and talk about their issues, or if the two of them would just keep quiet about them forever. He imagined they'd leave the restaurant to Louise- she seemed to take after him more than the other two, and they spent the most time together just paling around. He knew it wasn't just because she was young, either, although anything could happen in the next few years. Still, in his head she'd take over for him, maybe have a family of her own in the apartment, and if the restaurant wasn't something by the time it was hers maybe she'd know what to do to turn it around. She always was an idea-girl, more so than Gene or Tina, although they both had insanely creative imaginations of their own.
And maybe grilling was non-feminine enough to really hold her interest when she was old enough to use the grill.
He and Linda would grow old together in some house that was older than both of them- maybe something she'd inherited from her parents after they passed away. Not that he thought about that often, it's just that you can't inherit a house from someone who's still alive. Besides, Linda would be very sad when they died. He... hoped they lived a long time.
Anyway, they'd be sitting in the kitchen like this one day, and she'd bring something up first. Now that the kids were gone having lives and families of their own and the two of them were silver and slower, having coffee on a table made of real oak. It's not something they were ever able to afford their selves, but it's so wonderful that they have it now. He'd listen and by then he'd have thought about everything himself, too, so maybe he'd even know what she was talking about. Then he'd bring something else up, and it wouldn't turn into an argument or a competition. She'd listen and they'd talk about it... for hours, maybe, and then maybe they'd let the conversation air out for a few days and talk about it again. And again. However many times it took.
"Bob, your eggs," Linda was saying, and it brought him back to reality. He'd been staring at her, but he hadn't noticed when she'd started trying to get his attention, or when she's started finishing his breakfast for him. He looked down and let out a breathy laugh.
"Oh, you... ate them," he said, and stood, lifting his plate and hers.
"Yeah, you looked like you were a million miles away... so, I figured you weren't hungry," she said in a joking tone, then stood and followed him with her empty mug, "What's got you all day-dreamy today? Did you have a prophetic dream?" She suddenly gasped, "You did! Didn't you? Was it about Teddy? Is he gonna be okay?"
"No, Lin, I- I mean, yeah, probably," he said, washing their plates.
"Yeah to the dream, or yeah to Teddy being okay?" she asked urgently.
"Yeah about Teddy being okay," he replied, setting one plate aside to dry in the dish rack, then the other, "I mean, he needs to watch his cholesterol... maybe his blood pressure... and sometimes I think he doesn't pay close enough attention when he's driving... but, I- I'm sure he's fine, otherwise. I think. Maybe."
"But you did have a prophetic dream? About me?" Linda's tone was excited, now.
"No, Lin," he said, laughing again, "No, I did not have a prophetic dream." She kissed her teeth.
"Aww."
"I was just thinking... about what you said earlier. About how, uh, looking at me reminded you of when we were younger?" he said this like he was presenting an idea to her. He held his hand out for her mug, and she handed it to him absently. Her hair was starting to frizz up a little at the ends, drying naturally instead of by blow-drying. It was a little curly like this.
"Yeah?" she prompted when he didn't immediately continue, and he turned to wash the coffee mug.
"I just remembered that time, uh, before we had Gene. I made us omelets and bacon, and we were eating really early because we were still getting the restaurant ready to open." He set the mug aside and Linda gasped softly.
"Awhawhaw, Bobbyy!" she leaned against him suddenly, and the contact made his chest swell. "That's what I was thinking, too! You weren't payin' attention and the bacon started to burn a little? And it smelled kinda like the grease from the burgers."
"Oh, uh, it did, didn't it?" he laughed.
"I knew you remembered," she crooned fondly, then leaned up to place a quick peck on his cheek.
He turned and kissed her, and the two of them embraced for a moment in that feeling, then parted with a sighs and giggling.
The two of them fooled around like this until Tina announced her entrance, and then Bob was frying up more eggs and making a lot more toast while Linda poured some glasses of milk and orange juice.. Louise and Gene weren't far behind, and when he looked at everyone together, it somehow reminded him even more of when he was younger. The moment was drenched in nostalgia in a second, and he sat down with another mug of coffee as the kid's ate and made idle conversation about the coming school day. Linda left the room to finish getting ready. She needed to re-wet her hair so she could style it correctly.
This morning might keep him warm for the rest of the day, Bob thought, feeling the heat from his coffee travel down his throat to settle in his stomach.
Then Gene flung a fried egg at Louise over a disagreement they were having, and even though he apologized immediately, Louise was not slow to retaliate. They had yolk in their hair and only twenty minutes before they had to leave for school.
So they left with wet hair in spring and admonishments. Bob laughed only when they were gone, and he and Linda still had a little time before the restaurant opened. They were stood on the landing to the stairs, where they had seen the kids off. Linda intoned melodically, then took Bob gently by the front of his shirt and smiled at him.
"Soo, we could go downstairs and grind some beef and work on opening the restaurant, do all that boring stuff-"
"Boring-"
"Ooor," Linda smiled coquettishly and raised her eyebrows, glancing at the door to their bedroom.
"Oh, haha, um. Yes, please," Bob said in reply, smiling back at her.
The two of them giggled their way to the bedroom then, the smell of burger grease and breakfast still lingering on the air.