Meara’s eyes glanced over to the plate of spare pumpkin muffins sitting on the counter. I had already filled up a plastic container with the twelve others. Those wouldn’t fit.
“When did you learn how to cook?” my sister wondered as she scratched her blonde head. “I never realized you were slowly becoming Martha Stewart.”
“I’m not,” I swore with a smile. “I just know how to follow basic instructions. That’s all most recipes are.”
“Sure, if you say so.”
Hugging her goodbye, I gathered my stuff and managed to get out to the parking garage without dropping anything. I had a reusable shopping bag piled on one arm and my duffle on the other. With the two warm casseroles in my hand, I was so terrified of tripping. It felt like a miracle when I finally made it to the quiet residential street not far from campus. Actually, as I got out of my car, I realized it couldn’t be too far from the waterfront too. It looked like a nice place to live.
How much did it cost to live in this neighborhood?
Forgetting that passing thought, I hurried up to the second-floor apartment of the triplex Warren told me about. I knocked on the door and waited.
“Warren, that better not be you,” I heard from the other side of the door.
A latch clicked. The green wooden door flung open, and there, wearing nothing but sweatpants and half of a beard, Caleb’s worn blue eyes met mine.
“I called in sick,” I blurted out before he could ask. “I’ve brought you some things too.”
“Millie, you didn’t have to do that.”
Looking at him, I couldn’t deny how chiseled and lean his torso looked. His light brown hair was falling across his bright-eyed gaze, and in any other context, I wouldn’t have minded the baby beard. It could have been attractive to see Caleb looking sleepy-eyed and disheveled. Here, though, it only hurt my heart.
“Caleb.” I sighed. “You know I care about you. Please, just let me.”
I don’t know if it was my pleading words or expression, but Caleb surrendered. He let me bring in my things and pass through the apartment. Beyond the mess, it was the kind of home I expected from him. The walls were a cream color and the leather couch looked well-loved. There was a kind of classic warmth to the place, a little mismatched but nice. It looked like Caleb.
“I brought a breakfast casserole and a baked ziti for later,” I declared as I rooted myself in the cluttered kitchen, finding a place to leave my bags. “I also got some coffee, a sourdough loaf, and some little odds and ends. I didn’t know what you would have around, and I doubted you have many people bringing you things.”
Caleb leaned against the kitchen door frame as he watched me. His arms folded, I studied him out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t smile, but his face looked almost brighter.
“Most people don’t know,” he remarked, his voice hollow of its usual resonance.
“Well, I guess that works out,” I replied. “I got a little overzealous at the grocery store this morning.”
I doubted Caleb would want flowers, but when I saw the sunflowers in the market, something compelled me to buy them. They were the tip of the iceberg. I had probably a week’s worth of groceries here for this man. Still, as I opened the fridge, I realized it might be more needed than I realized. All he had were a few basics and some leftover pizza.
“And what about Vlad?” Caleb asked me then, not moving from where he stood.
I paused. Of course, I’d been honest with Caleb. I didn’t tell him about our night together in the hotel or any other illicit detail, but I’d mentioned, for the sake of candor, that we were seeing one another non-exclusively. Vlad had been adamant he wasn’t interested in anyone else. I was more than enough, he said, but he was willing to share my time and affection with other men. If it made me happier, then he wouldn’t deny me that pleasure.
“He’s at a business conference in New York,” I answered honestly.
“And you didn’t want to go with him?”
“It was going to interfere with work and my time with you,” I replied. “Caleb, do you want me to leave?”
He stood taller. His arms fell to his sides.
“No,” he admitted.
I set down the bag of ground coffee in my hands. Looking at him, I honestly didn’t know how I could make him feel better. I didn’t know how to wash the loneliness from his expression, but I needed Caleb to let me try.
“Then, don’t push me away right now,” I insisted gently. “I’m here to be with you, so let me do that. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”
“What about work?”
“To hell with work,” I swore. “It’s going to be fall break at five o’clock anyway. This weekend, I can be here as long as you need me. Whatever you need, let me be that person.”