The next morning, Emily woke before Paul-unaccustomed to so much sleep. She looked over her shoulder to see him huddled next to her body, resting peacefully. That feeling, being safe and held, was the best in the world. But she was starving and she imagined he was too, so she pried his arms off. "Ugh" he moaned as she moved.
"Shhh, go to sleep" she whispered "I'll be right back."
There was a small convenience store around the corner from her building that sold some regular food items. She dug around her place quietly and found some sandals and a sundress and slipped out the door, careful not to wake him. It was a short walk to the tiny store, she hadn't been in this early before and was happy to see it was already open.
"Emily!" the owner exclaimed as she walked in, "I don't usually see you this early." The owner was an old man, with white hair made more noticeable by his deep skin tone. He and his wife ran the place and he made it a point to know his customers; it's probably why he was in business so long in a city that saw small businesses come and go by the day. Emily had only been in a couple times since moving in but he remembered her immediately.
"Morning Lou" she said with a smile "yeah it's an early day for me. Do you have eggs or anything like that?"
"Over in the back, where the milk is."
"Cool, thanks. Where's Marie?" Marie was his wife, and Emily couldn't recall coming in with the two of them not working together. They were the ultimate in "relationship goals" as far as she could tell, the last few times she came in they were sitting across from each other with the same newspaper doing a crossword puzzle. The first time she spoke with them they told her the story of how they met; they went to the same church when they were teenagers. He would sneak notes to her during services, and she would sneak them back. It was all very romantic.
"Oh, I always open by myself and let her sleep in."
"I always see you two together" Emily countered.
"You're never in this early" he said with a chuckle "and she enjoys sleeping in a little, so I take care of it."
Emily smiled at that. They had to be at least in their sixties, maybe seventies, and the show of consideration that is normally only reserved for new lovers was charming. She was also still on the high of spending time with Paul the night before, and it made her even more dreamy than usual. She picked up a few items; eggs, bread, some little jars of jam and one of the half pints of milk and headed to the front. "Okay, I'm ready."
Lou busied himself ringing up her items, and as Emily reached in her bag to grab cash he asked
"Who are you cooking for?"
"I have a friend over."
"Ahh, a friend you cook breakfast for. Special friend."
"He is" she replied with a smile.
"He is?" Lou repeated, with an emphasis on the 'he'.
'Oh boy-he's old fashioned and this probably looks tawdry to him' Emily thought. But there was no sense in hiding it now. "Yeah, he" she said, "I don't have many of the staples in my place right now and I was hoping to cook some breakfast."
"They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" Lou said, "but I'll tell you something. Marie makes banana bread for me every Sunday, and it's...not so good. But she's very proud of the recipe. I know she is, so I have always told her I like it. And I eat the whole thing by myself, every Sunday."
His confession was startling. 'Why', Emily wondered, 'would anyone voluntarily eat shitty food?' "Well, why don't you say something to her" Emily asked "I'm sure she doesn't want to make you eat something you don't like."
He smiled "Because she's so proud of the recipe, it was her mother's. And when I saw how proud she was to serve it to me, well, I like that. This man you're cooking for, I will give you some advice. Whatever you make, ask him what he thinks. If he really cares for you, he will be happy that you are proud to cook for him. He will not complain."
Not at all the answer she expected.
"I'll keep that in mind Lou" she said, "thanks for the advice."
He smiled sweetly, "Have a good morning."
She thanked him again and he handed her the small plastic grocery bag. Heading back, she made he way up the stairs and opened the door quietly, getting to work prepping breakfast in the kitchen. When the smell of bacon started wafting through the rooms, she heard the creaking of Paul getting out of bed. "Mmm, that smells good" he said, yawning "can I do anything?"
"Nah, I've got it covered" Emily told him "it's just breakfast sandwiches."
"I love breakfast sandwiches" he replied.
"I remember you saying so" she offered as she put it down, "I haven't made many before but I've been practicing." He grinned and took a healthy bite. "How does it taste?" she asked.
Without skipping a beat between bites he replied, "I like it" with an appreciative smile.
It was a delightfully quiet breakfast; save for a brief discussion about some books they'd both read. Paul looked at his phone a few times and seemed concerned, but also didn't want to be rude and leave. Sensing this, Emily stood and started clearing her dish; almost immediately Paul got up as well. "Why don't you go turn on the news, I just have to throw these in the dishwasher."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Oh yeah, I'm sure" and thinking ahead added, "the WiFi password is akin1029."
He smiled appreciatively, "Thanks. Work stuff, you know."
She laughed a little, knowing she had no idea what the responsibilities of a regular job entailed. Just the same she replied "Oh yeah, of course. I know you've got responsibilities. Go for it, I'll be done in a bit." She cleared the table and started popping the remaining dishes into the washer. Paul went straight into the living room, checking emails and clearly responding feverishly to several. As Emily rinsed the dishes, she watched him work and do, in her eyes, professional-looking things. It was impressive to her to see him working hard and wanting more than anything to help in some way; he seemed so stressed. He had a real career with responsibilities and people counting on him. As she loaded the dishwasher her mind started drifting into the difference between her life and his. She was younger than him and had no experience with a real job, having started at the club right out of high school. Self-doubt filled her; what was she, compared to him? In her mind, certainly not his equal, he was educated and worldly. She had some money from working and saving for several years but nothing planned for the future. No education after high school, or any learned skills-at least none that were applicable to the regular world.
