Chapter 16: The second time around.

We spent Tuesday and Thursday evening together, though she left at around eleven both nights. She showed up Friday night with a small overnight bag.

"I told my parents I'd be staying over."

"And they didn't give you an earful, I see."

"No, just a brief good-night and a 'Be careful' from my mom."

"'Kay. Ready for dinner?"

"You're spoiling me, you know." I raised an eyebrow as she continued. "All these wonderful home-cooked meals. How can I stand to eat my own cooking for the next two years?"

I bit back my first reply--"I wouldn't mind cooking for you for the next two years"--and simply said, "If you pick up cooking as quickly as you did lab technique, you won't have anything to worry about. Here, have a seat."

She sat down and inhaled deeply. "Smells Chinese."

"I've been trying out a few recipes, and finally got the beef to behave."

"How is the beef supposed to behave? It can't be that content with being eaten."

"Very funny. It should be soft enough to melt in your mouth."

"Okay, you're quitting grad school right now and becoming a chef."

"Wait until you try the food. You might want me to stay in school." I brought out the dishes, soup, and rice bowls, and we fell to with vigor.

"Seriously, Jordan, this is really good!"

"Glad you liked it."

"You sure you don't want to do this for a living? Master chefs make more than scientists."

"They most likely do. Still, I can't do this on a regular basis. I can manage nutritious and edible with relative ease, but tasty is both difficult and time-consuming."

"The miso soup was delicious."

"I can't take too much credit for that, because-"

"-the miso is pre-made. Oh, come on. No one makes their own miso. And before you ask, my parents and I spent a few years on the West Coast. That's why I'm familiar with Asian food."

"You didn't need to tell me that; I knew as soon as we started eating."

"How?"

I nodded to her chopsticks. "By the fact that you're using them as well as if you've been using them for your whole life."

"I didn't think of that. Chopsticks are almost as second nature as forks and knives are for me."

After doing the dishes (I washed and she dried), we watched a movie she had brought with her. "'Meet Joe Black.' Hmmm, good taste," I had commented. "One of my favorite actors."

"Brad Pitt?"

"Heavens, no. Anthony Hopkins. Pitt was wasted in his role, except briefly before he was killed. They should have cast Val Kilmer--he does the strong, silent type better. Claire Forlanni wasn't bad, but she wasn't spectacular."

"I liked her better in 'Mallrats.'"

"Ah yes. The coming-out film for Shannen Doherty that wasn't."

"Settle down. The movie's starting."

One of the reasons 'Meet Joe Black' had made a good impression on me was that it used 'Black Balloon' by the Goo Goo Dolls in its trailer long before the song's release. But I digress. We finished the movie, and I took a quick shower and performed my pre-bed toiletries while she re-wound both tapes. When she finished up in the bathroom, I was already in bed, reading.

"Ready?"

"Um, yeah."

As I laid down and she slipped into bed beside me, I could sense an edge to her body language. Though she tried to hide it, she was wound as tight as a violin string. Time to take the bull by the horns, I thought. "Morgan, would you roll over for a minute?"

"Why?"

"Your back looks knotted up. Want a back rub?"

"Okay."

She rolled over as I resumed by sitting position. I leaned over, and started working gently on her back. "I could tell by the way you were sitting earlier," I murmured as I worked my way down her back, making sure to keep the massage as non-sexual as possible. After I had worked the last knot from the small of her back, I brushed her hair from the back of her neck, and gently kissed her there. "All done," I said lightly as I reached over and switched off the light, leaving the room only dimly illuminated by the streetlights several stories below. She stayed still for a minute or two before rolling onto her back. "Was that it?"

"Did I miss a spot?"

"No, my back feels great. But-"

I reached out and took her hand. It was cool, but trembling ever so slightly. "You never have to be nervous around me," I said, gently caressing the back of her hand. "And even if you are, you can tell me. It's more than sharing a bed with me again, isn't it?"

"Yes," softly.

"So tell me. You don't have to tell me now; anytime you're comfortable, I'll be here."

She moved into my arms, and her free hand went up to caress my cheek. We fell asleep like that, her head resting on my chest. The calm before the storm, I thought to myself before falling asleep.