Page 28 of Recipe for a Curse
I did take a few minutes to pick up the small messes in the area. Not that there was much for clutter. Most of my things were kitchen gadgets and tools, cookbooks, and binders full of recipes. I did have subscriptions to a few cooking magazines, and a few unread, so I put everything away and sat down to wrap myself up in the chenille blanket on the couch. Didn’t really think I was resting more than my body until a hand on my face startled me from sleep.
“Crap, sorry,” I said, blinking and looking up at Rio. “Didn’t realize I was that tired. And there’s something about the winter that gets in my bones. Like I can feel the cold, so when I wrap myself up and am finally warm, it’s like bam, nap time.” I crawled from the little nest and folded up the blanket. My little cat nap meant I needed to get my butt down to the kitchen.
Rio was dressed, hair pulled back, thick socks on his feet, and wearing a new pair of gray sweats with a long-sleeved T-shirt. I looked him over, pleased that he didn’t seem nearly as gaunt as he’d been yesterday. “I need to head back down to the kitchen to finish dinner prep. Did you want to hang out up here and rest a bit or come with?”
“I can help,” Rio said. “And I’m kind of hungry.”
“Well dinner is a bit of a lighter spread, but I’ve got lots of things I can whip up for you.” He flushed again, but followed me to the door and down across to the kitchen.
Rio helped Ana and I set out the spread of food. The soup was warm and hearty, the salad divine with a homemade ranch dressing, the rolls warm, buttery, and delicate. I was so stuffed I couldn’t imagine eating any of the tart or cinnamon rolls I’d made. Rio ate six rolls and half a tart. No one commented, even if they did notice. Though I knew both Zach and Sean were paying attention.
The fact that I kept offering Rio more food seemed to please them. And when I left Sean curled up with mulled cider beside the fire to make my way to kitchen cleanup, he patted my hand and murmured. “Is good.”
I wasn’t sure what was good. The cider? He’d had it a dozen times. But his gaze had fallen on Rio. So maybe that Rio was eating? “He’s looking better, right?” I said softly. “Not so gaunt.”
Sean nodded. “Keep him fed.”
“That’s my plan. Do you think we can convince him to stay here?”
Sean looked toward the window and the dark sky outside. “Full moon in a few days.”
“Yeah? Is that a bad thing?” Did PTSD get worse during the full moon? I had thought that some old wives’ tale, about the full moon making people crazy.
Sean shrugged like he wasn’t sure either. But he hadn’t been born and raised in America, so maybe they didn’t have the same superstitions? Or perhaps they did, only some of their ideas were a bit different. I’d have to ask Zach about it later.
“I’ve got to clean up the kitchen,” I told him as I excused myself. As soon as I began loading up the cart, Rio was by my side ready to carry the dishes. “You don’t have to help,” I told him. “You’ve worked hard today.”
“You have too. Let me help.”
I waved Ana away as she came to offer help as well, but I didn’t need a crowded kitchen. After dinner cleanup was always the easiest of the day. It wasn’t like the constant cook and prep role I worked the rest of the time. Everything was put away, the dishwasher filled, counters cleaned, and everything quietly waiting for the next morning prep to begin.
Rio and I worked in silence, him taking cues from me on what was next, and by the time I was done, I had to admit I was dragging a bit. Not enough sleep the night before. My ankle ached a little, but the walking splint helped, though I couldn’t wait to sit down. I smiled up at Rio after I’d washed my hands and put the last of the cleaning supplies away. “Did you want to come back to my apartment with me, or find a place in the house?”
His breath seemed to catch, as if staring down at me and making a decision, was too much. I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “No pressure. Whatever you want.”
Rio turned his hand in mine and squeezed back, his palm a pulse of warmth in mine. “Your place, if that’s okay.” He glanced at the house like it held some rowdy party I had yet to discover.
“Sure.” I rewarded him with a smile, letting go of his hand to retrieve the supply I’d created. I had a stack of food ready for him. Stuff he could have brought to a regular room and not needed refrigeration, and if he chose my place, a couple containers in the fridge too. I piled up the stash and held out my hand again.
Rio took it, and half the containers before making his way across the kitchen with me, through the house, and to the garage. He was quiet again as we entered my place, but not a brooding sort of quiet, maybe reflective, but not in an anxious way. More at peace, perhaps? I hoped that him having plenty of food had him feeling a lot better. And I knew warmth could go a long way in curing some of the basic stress of winter life.
I dug through my drawers for more PJs. One of the perks of living in a northern climate meant that I had a stock of the warm stuff. Apparently Zach had given Rio some as well because he dug through his bags of stuff, retrieving a pair that looked like it had little bunnies on it.
“You want the bathroom first?” I asked him.
“You go ahead,” Rio said.
I made my way into the bathroom to ready for the evening. Odd how tired I was. It wasn’t all that late. Almost eight, though the darkness of the winter always made it feel later. I wondered if Rio would like a quiet movie night. There wasn’t much else to do at my place. I brushed my teeth and opened the bathroom door to find Rio changed.
“You don’t have to get ready for bed already if you don’t want to,” I told him. “It’s pretty early.”
“Do you think we’ll have to go somewhere?”
“Not unless the house catches fire.” I headed to the couch and began pulling it apart to make the bed out of it. “I’m thinking it’s a good night for a movie and some warm blankets. No fireplace in here, sorry. But the heat works really well.”
“A movie sounds great,” Rio admitted. “Can’t remember the last time I saw one.”
“I can make you some popcorn too. The real butter kind, if you’d like. I don’t have that microwave stuff, but I have an air popper which works great.”