I clean my house from top to bottom before Jacob comes over. It’s not that it was ever messy or dirty. I’m a really clean person in general. Too much of a mess makes me feel stressed out, and I hate germs. But I want it to be extra sparkling when Jacob arrives. I put a casserole in the oven as soon as I get home from work. It’s an old recipe of my grandmother’s, and I’d put it together last night so I could just throw it in the oven today. The recipe said it was best left to sit overnight anyway, so I hope it turns out incredible. I’m hoping this whole night does.
I put some chocolate from the shop in a bowl on my coffee table, a few flavors I know Jacob has said he likes and few of my favorites. I’m so glad he’s coming over. I’ve got this nervous sort of bubble in my chest about it, but mostly I’m just thrilled to see him again. I hope this means that from now on we can see each other for real. That we can date properly rather than doing our dance over the phone.
Jacob shows up two minutes before seven, and the knock on my door sets my pulse racing. I open it and I almost gasp.
Jacob is even more handsome than I’d remembered. His eyes are sparkling and his hair is thick around his handsome, sharp, face. His plaid shirt clings to his broad shoulders and strong arms. He looks like he stepped out of a magazine for the mountains, or maybe right out of my own fantasies.
“Mia,” he says, pulling me into a tight hug. His arms around me feel wonderful. I could just stay in them forever. I can’t wait to kiss him, to be close to him.
“So good to see you, Jacob,” I say, into his neck. He lets me go and smiles at me, bright across his striking features.
“It smells amazing in here,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say. I hope it tastes as good as it smells. Jacob steps back, looking around, and I notice a brown paper bag in his hand. “What’s that?” I ask. “Your tools?”
“I brought you something,” Jacob says, eyes back on me, and then traveling over me like he’s taking me in. Like he can’t quite believe he’s here either.
“A present?” I ask.
“An apology,” Jacob says, handing the bag to me. I open it curiously and my eyes widen when I see what it is. It’s a pound bag of the coffee they make at the diner. The exact kind I was drinking when we met.
“Coffee?” I ask, biting my lip.
“I’ve been wanting to buy you a coffee to make up for that one that ended up on my shirt for weeks now. I thought, since it had been so long, I owed you a whole bag of them, not just a cup. It’s an apology with interest attached,” Jacob says. It’s maybe the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me – the most thoughtful gesture I could imagine right now.
“You really didn’t have to do that,” I say, amazed that not only is he still thinking about that morning but that he’d paid enough attention to me, even then, to notice where my coffee was from.
“I really did because I was an ass,” Jacob says, grinning at me. “No one should get yelled at their first day in town.”
“Thank you,” I say, pulling him in for another quick hug. I don’t really want to let him go, but the oven timer goes off and we sit down to eat. I pull the casserole out and dish it out. It’s a little burnt on the bottom, but Jacob doesn’t seem to mind.
“Thank you for dinner,” Jacob says, pulling apart his roll and taking a bite of the casserole.
“I hope it’s okay. I’ve never been much of a cook,” I confess, “but it was my grandma’s recipe, so I thought it was worth a try.”
“It’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a very long time,” Jacob says, holding my eyes and making my stomach catch a little. “Take that for whatever it’s worth, though, because I don’t get out to eat a lot these days.” I take a bite myself, and while I’m not sure I’d go as far as Jacob, it’s pretty okay, the burnt taste mostly covered in cheese. I’m proud of myself.
“Grandma did know what she was doing,” I say, smiling.
“Definitely,” he agrees. “I’m glad this family recipe isn’t a secret.”
“Tell me about your day?” I ask. “It seems strange to not talk to you until this late in the day.”
“It does,” Jacob agrees.
“But I’m glad you’re here,” I say.
“Me too,” Jacob says, giving me another one those looks that make me feel liquid all over.
We talk about our days over dinner, and I’m pleased when Jacob has a second helping, even if that feels silly. He tells me about some repairs he’s done, and I tell him it’s officially hot chocolate season at work. It’s strange I feel like I talk about work all the time and Jacob never does. I mean, he’s told me all about the family legend and lore, but never anything about the day-to-day of his work. I can tell it’s stressful for him, though, which is probably why he doesn’t go there, but I hope that soon he can trust me enough to open up to me about whatever’s causing him headaches there.
After dinner, Jacob offers to do the dishes, catching me by surprise.
“You cooked, so I can do these,” Jacob says, then he laughs at my expression. “I live alone, remember? I do my own dishes every day. I think I can handle it.”
He’s right, of course. I just hadn’t been expecting it. Jacob is so different from most men I’ve known. He’s so independent, and he makes me feel like he wants to take care of me. It’s a nice feeling.
“If you insist,” I say, bringing the plates and cups to Jacob. I wrap what’s left of the casserole in foil and set it in the fridge before sitting to watch Jacob work.
“I thought you were here to fix my radiator, not do my dishes,” I say, teasing.
“You know, I think that might have been my phone reception? Static on my end of the line. Because it sounds fine listening to it here,” Jacob says. I laugh.
“Well, you are way up in the mountains, all those trees around,” I say, nodding, smiling to myself in knowing the radiator was never really the reason he wanted to see me at all.
“Exactly,” Jacob says. “It sounded bad from up there.”
“I’m sure it did,” I say, laughing again. “Good thing you’re here to listen to it in person. To be sure.”
“Maybe I’ll come keep an eye on it more often,” Jacob says, turning around to grin at me. It’s amazing how easy this is. How natural and good it feels.
“Maybe you should,” I say. “I think I’d like that.”
“I think I would, too,” Jacob says.
I think maybe I’d like it if Jacob did a lot of things around here more often. I think to myself that maybe I like the things Jacob does for me in my life so much that I could get used to them already.