“Onions, tomatoes, peppers… Looking good, looking good.”
As usual, I was murmuring to myself while preparing a dish. Jennifer snorted from across the kitchen.
“Hey, if you want dinner, you better not make fun of me,” I said sternly. “That’s what I get for trying to organize a romantic evening for the two of us, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” Jen smiled. “You’re just so cute.”
She got up from the chair where she was sitting and walked over to the counter, bringing a scent of flowers and fresh linens with her. She leaned on the kitchen counter.
“This is a pretty good way to celebrate our six months together.” She looked approvingly at my pile of ingredients. “Tacos are my favorite.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, you have a boyfriend who can make a kick-ass seafood risotto and amazing boeuf bourguignon… and Jennifer Woodworth asks for tacos.” I shook my head. “Aren’t you rich girls supposed to only eat macarons and caviar?”
“I’m saving that for the one year anniversary.” She winked at me.
I laughed and turned around to check on my chicken.
“So where’s Sam?” Jennifer asked. “Not joining us for dinner?”
“Nope. He’s out with that friend of his again, Danny.”
“Ooh, ‘friend’? Or ‘date’?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Sam kind of avoids the subject when I asked him about it.” I frowned. “He’s not really been himself lately. I feel like something’s bothering him, but he won’t tell me what.”
“Don’t worry about it too much, babe,” Jen said reassuringly. “He’ll talk about when he’s ready. If there’s anything wrong, that is. It might be nothing.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said, still not very convinced.
“You just focus on those tacos over there.”
I looked over my shoulder and saw Jennifer walking towards me, her light dress swinging flirtatiously around her legs and her hair looking soft and shiny.
“I think they can manage by themselves for a while,” I said hastily, before pulling her into a tight embrace.
Not much later, we were sitting down at the dinner table.
“These are great,” Jen mumbled while stuffing her face with taco. I laughed.
“Glad you enjoy them.”
She swallowed hard. “You should make these for the party.”
My eighteenth birthday was coming up in a month or so, and I’d convinced my parents to let me throw a party at the house while they were away for the weekend.
“Party? What party?”
Juliette and her friend Sarah ran into the kitchen, just in time to hear Jen finish her sentence.
“Nothing that concerns you two.” Of course, that only sparked their curiosity more. The two girls promptly sat down at the table.
“Is it a party for your birthday, Ollie?” Juliette asked excitedly.
“Maybe,” I teased. “But it’s an adult birthday party. You guys are too young for that.”
There was loud protest from both girls, which made me and Jen struggle to hold back our laughter. “We’re not too young,” Sarah said stubbornly.
“We could give a concert!”
“Or a puppet show!”
“Or a play!”
“No way, kiddos. You two are staying at Sarah’s that night,” I said while ruffling Jules’ hair.
Again, the girls didn’t agree with that. I tried to calm them down for a while, but then gave up and just finished eating my taco. Jen exchanged an amused glance at me.
“Guess we have to make room for two more guests.”