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Lincoln
“You really don’t haveto escort us.”
I ignored Lexie’s protest and climbed out of her van. She was right. I didn’t have time. But she and Eric were exhausted. I barely needed sleep.
“Does all of this need to be unloaded?”
She unlocked the metal door to a dimly lit building in the Bowery. I hadn’t decided if parking in the alley was safer than the street. At least here, they could make it in and out of the kitchen quickly.
“These.” She pointed to a stack of boxes then frowned. “I think.”
Eric propped the door open with a rock. He’d been quiet since dinner, but if the continuous succession of yawns was any indication, he was just tired.
I made short work of carrying boxes while they set up their workspace. It was small, but clean. The appliances were commercial grade, though they were old.
How much time did they waste every day setting up and breaking down? If they had a place of their own, it could save them. Maybe they could store more supplies, make larger batches of food, grow a garden.
Stay out of it.
But I was already in it. Whatever it was.
Lexie looked at me over her shoulder as she rummaged through a cardboard carton. “Will you bring in a few of the boxes on the left side too? I think I mixed everything up earlier.”
I did as requested and secured the van and the door to the kitchen. She and Eric had already created chaos. Half-unpacked boxes littered the floor and there were items spread all over the metal counter. It reminded me of their apartment.
I shrugged off my jacket and found a stool to lay it over.
Eric watched as I undid my cufflinks. “Can you show me how to use those someday?”
“Of course.” I slipped the cufflinks that had belonged to my grandfather into my pocket and rolled up my sleeves.
“What are you doing?” Lexie stared at my forearms.
“Waiting for you to give me my next instructions.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “Do you have any kitchen experience?”
“I have one. Does that count?”
She snorted. “I guess it will have to.” She pointed her head to her right. “You do know what a refrigerator is, right?”
I wanted to laugh. The feeling was foreign and the noise didn’t know how to escape. “I think so.”
“It’s over there.” Eric thrust his finger toward the large stainless steel appliance.
“In the bottom drawer, there are carrots and celery. You can wash them.” Lexie bit her lip, though her eyes lit. “If you can find the sink.”
This time my face felt an odd pull to it on one side. “You’re challenging me.”
“Are you smiling?” She looked like she wished she’d kept a lid on her mouth.
“I’m not familiar with that either,” I returned easily, and she relaxed.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” she muttered.
I flipped on the water and rinsed the vegetables as instructed. It was strange having someone else tell me what to do. The dominant part of me wanted to take control, but I couldn’t. Because I didn’t know what needed to be done.
“Peel those, please.” Lexie gave me a quick demonstration of what she wanted before handing me the peeler.
