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As she sat impatiently at a red light, Jane tapped the steering wheel and questioned her life decisions.
Well, not really. She mostly just questioned the decision to leave Roxy to make dinner for tonight. The bakery had received a last-minute wedding cake request and of course they had to call in their best baker (Jane didn’t like to brag, but it was true) and of course it had to be the night that Dirk and Jake were coming over for dinner. Roxy worked on her computer from home (when she worked at all…), and she had offered to make dinner instead. Hurried and rushed, Jane had accepted, but now she was wondering why she had decided to let the girl who couldn’t even walk in a straight line most of the time make dinner. How am I going to explain this to Dirk and Jake? Oh god. The mess. How are we even going to eat? Will the house still be standing? Maybe I should get takeout.
But Roxy had been so excited to make dinner… and she had never really showed much interest in the kitchen before… maybe it would be edible… and maybe she wouldn’t set everything on fire… Jane sighed. Her girlfriend wanted to make dinner for everyone, so she would just have to let her do it and hope that the result didn’t give them all food poisoning.
As Jane was reaching up to open the door, it opened itself instead, revealing Dirk. As Jane stared at him, he said, “We got here a little early. Why is Roxy cooking?”
Jane laughed, a little nervously. “It was an emergency. The bakery needed me and Roxy volunteered to do dinner. Is she okay? Is anything on fire?”
Dirk smiled slightly. “No, it’s fine. She’s actually pretty good.”
Jane’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Dirk stepped aside. “Come and see.”
In the kitchen, Jane stopped and stared. Her girlfriend, formerly thought to be hopeless at cooking and anything related to it, was flitting about, scarf in constant danger of catching fire or getting sauce spilled on it but never quite being ruined, ever-present martini balanced in one hand, the cat twining around her feet but somehow never tripping her up, cooking up a far more glamorous and complicated meal than even Jane had planned.
Upon seeing her girlfriend, however, the blonde stopped dead and dropped her spoon (it splashed into the pot of sauce without making too much of a mess), and, shrieking, “Janey!” slid her martini onto a free bit of counter space and flung herself at the shorter girl.
Jane, being used to such enthusiastic greetings, caught her without much effort and after the customary nose-neck rubbing (all Roxy’s idea, the girl was crazy affectionate), kissed her back. Then she looked up at her girlfriend and asked, astonishment obvious in her voice, “Roxy, when did you learn how to cook?”
Roxy laughed. “Hello to you too, silly!” She disentangled herself and ran back to a pot that needed stirring. “I don’t know that I ever really learned how to cook? It just kinda... happened, you know?” she waved a large knife to demonstrate her point, forcing Jake English to dodge the dangerous object in order to reach Jane and give her a hug. “Hello, Jane!” he cried, enthusiastic as ever. “How was your emergency escape to the bakery?”
“It was fine,” Jane laughed, hugging her friend back. “I just wish they had asked for a wedding cake a little earlier than they did.”
“Well, you’re done now!” Roxy said, waving a spoon. “So let’s eat!”
To Jane’s absolute astonishment, dinner was good. Actually, it was beyond good.
“Thif ith wungerflul!” Jake exclaimed around a far-too-large mouthful.
“Don’t talk with your mouth open,” Jane said automatically, although it never had any effect on Jake.
Dirk didn’t say anything at all. He was too busy eating.
Jane couldn’t think of anything at all to say. How could Roxy cook so well? Where had she learned? Why hadn’t she ever told Jane?
Roxy looked both elated and anxious, watching them all eat. She hardly touched her own food, too busy staring at everyone else. Jane had to remind her to eat three times over the course of the meal, and even then she ate like a bird, picking and poking and not actually ingesting much of anything.
After, nobody could talk about anything except the food. Jake gushed, Dirk actually expressed emotion, and Jane was at a total loss. Roxy seemed stuck at her happy-anxious point, wobbling from joy to nervousness and back in the space of a breath.
After Dirk and Jake left, saying that they would have to return soon for more of Roxy’s cooking, the girls were doing the dishes when Roxy burst out, “I’m sorry!”
Jane almost dropped the plate she was rinsing. “Sorry?” she repeated, confused. “Sorry for what?”
Roxy looked terribly upset, but Jane couldn’t understand why. The blonde said, all in a rush, “You’re the one who cooks and I took your job and it was weird because the kitchen is like yours and I invaded it and I’m really really sorry.”
Oh. Jane smiled, trying to soothe her girlfriend. “Roxy, please calm down. I’m not insulted at all, and you definitely didn’t invade. The bakery needed me and you stepped up. I wasn’t expecting you be so good, though! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Roxy bit her lip. “Well,” she mumbled, staring at the floor, “it was, like, your job, your thing, and I didn’t want to get in the way or take over or anything, and –”
Jane suddenly understood. “Oh, Roxy. I’m not going to get mad at you because you can cook well! I’m not going to get jealous!” She hugged her girlfriend tightly until she could feel Roxy beginning to relax and hug her back. “I just wish you’d told me sooner, honey. Then we could have shared the work!”
Roxy laughed, a sharp sound as if she still wasn’t sure if Jane was going to get mad or not. Jane sighed, leaning back a bit to look the taller girl in the eye. “I promise I’m not mad, Roxy.”
“Not even a little?”
“Not at all.”
The blonde gave a great sigh and Jane could feel all the tension seep out of her. She laughed. “Roxy, I love cooking with other people. Why on earth would I ever get mad if I found out that my girlfriend was such a good cook?”
***
Later, as they lay in bed, all the lights out and no sound but the soft whir of the fan and their own quiet voices, Roxy finally told Jane where she had learned to cook.
“You know how my mom was never around.” Roxy’s voice had that tone that only ever showed when she was talking about her mostly-absentee mother, notes of sadness and loneliness and something that Jane couldn’t quite place, a part that sounded a little too much like the other girl was afraid that Jane would leave her too, that made her stomach twist. “She was always off doing signings and meeting with publishers and going on tours, and I was always left at home.
“When I was littler, I had nannies and people around. But when I got a little older, they left and I was kind of on my own, in a great big house full of books and yarn and no Mom or anybody.”
Jane’s heart hurt, thinking about little Roxy all alone. She knew that Roxy had gotten at least one cat at some point, but aside from occasional feline company the girl had grown up practically on her own. Then she had met Jane, and all that had changed. Jane would never leave Roxy alone. Never ever ever.
Roxy was still talking. “Since there was nobody to do stuff for me, I kinda learned how to cook for myself. You have no idea how many times I almost set the house on fire, though. I’m not really that good. Not like you.”
Jane sighed. “Tonight was wonderful, Roxy, so stop selling yourself short. And I’ve messed up too. Remember the first time I made that blueberry cake?”
Roxy snorfled, burying her face in her pillow. “Yeah, that was a pretty bad one. It’s a good thing we got a new oven, ’cause I don’t think anybody will ever be able to use that one again.”
Jane giggled. Most people knew her as the perfect baker, the queen of the kitchen, but only her closest friends knew the truth. Nobody was perfect, not even the Empress of Baked Goods herself.
They quieted down, and Jane could feel herself beginning to drift off. Just before she fell asleep, she whispered, “Let’s cook together tomorrow.”
As her eyes fluttered shut, she heard a soft, “Okay.”