Page 126 of The Rut in the Road

Garlic, seafood, something cheesy. “That smells amazing,” I told him.

He smiled. “You like seafood, right?”

I nodded. I rarely got it, because seafood—especially shellfish—was expensive, but every now and then I’d get fried shrimp or fish and chips as a special treat.

“Good.” He put on a pair of thick gloves with rubber stripping on the hands, then pulled a bubbling casserole dish out of the oven. Then he pulled out a tray of toasted bread, the tops clearly having been brushed with butter and herbs. “It’s a little… rustic,” he said. “The idea—although you don’thaveto eat it that way—is that you spoon the bake onto the crostini, the bread.”

I nodded. That sounded good to me. “Okay,” I replied.

He pulled open a drawer and handed me some woven mats that I assumed were probably hot pads. “Can you put this on the table somewhere we can both reach?” he asked.

I took them, smiling when I walked into the dining room to discover that he’d set the table with plates, silverware, wine and water glasses, and two candles, still unlit. It was like the setting from any romantic comedy I’d ever seen—a candlelit dinner for two.

I liked that he wanted to do things like that with me. For me, really. It wasn’t like I’d ever either think of it or have the money to do it, something I felt a little guilty about, but I couldn’t really help.

I went back to the kitchen, and Raj handed me a basket full of the toasted bread. “Put this out, please? And then there’s a pitcher of water in the fridge.” All things I could carry with one hand.

I nodded, following his instructions, moving around him as he carried the steaming crock of creamy seafood out to place on the hot pads, followed by a mixed green salad with some nuts and chunks of pear and cheese.

Then he got a bottle of wine and poured glasses for both of us, smiling as I settled into one of the chairs.

“This all looks amazing,” I told him.

His smile widened. “I wanted to do something nice for us,” he replied. “Especially since we’ve had a hell of a month.”

I nodded in agreement.

Raj is a very good cook.

I made him let me help do the dishes.

“So,” he said, after a moment of companionable silence.

I glanced up at him, waiting.

“You like puzzles, right?” He knew that Sam and Melissa and I did puzzle nights.

“Yes…” I did. I wasn’t sure I wanted to give up puzzles as a thing that I did with just Sam and Melissa, though. I wasn’t sure how to say that without being insulting or without hurting his feelings, though.

“Well,” he continued. “Since I know you already do puzzle nights with your friends…” He paused, thinking. “Melissa and… Sam?”

I nodded.

“With them,” he continued. “I figured maybe you’d like to build some working models.”

“Models?” I asked.

“Yeah—like, well, I got a carousel. It comes with little lights and a battery pack and a little engine that will turn it and stuff. But you put together all the bits and paint them, if you want.” He shrugged, dropping his gaze. “Or not, if you don’t want to.”

“No, that sounds interesting,” I replied honestly. “I’m not sure we’ll finish it tonight, though.”

He smiled up at me. “We don’t have to,” he replied. “We can finish it next week, or whenever we have time and want to.”

I smiled back. “Okay.”

We’d started by painting,rather than assembling, although Raj had advocated for building it first until I’d asked him if he wanted to try to squeeze a tiny brush up under the ceiling in between all the tiny poles and tiny horses.

I was really enjoying using the tiny little brush to paint stripes on the poles, edging the scalloping in gold, and so on. It was a good thing I’d broken my left arm, because there was no way I could have painted these tiny details with my left hand.