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“Can I get either of you something to drink?” Michael asked. “I can make coffee.”
“We’re not stayin’ long,” Wayne said, adding to the conversation his wife had previously dominated. Josiah expected Wayne dominated when it came to ranch matters, but Rose was the driving force of their social interactions. The roles simply seemed to fit their personalities. “We actually stopped by to see if Elmer was feeling up for dinner at our house tonight.”
“Yeah?” Elmer said. “What’s she cooking?”
Rose laughed. “I’ve had chicken marinating half the day, and Wayne is gonna fire up the grill when we get home.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Elmer winked at Josiah. “Miss Rose over there could give my lovely Carol a run for her money when it came to grilled chicken. But she didn’t have my wife’s secret ingredient. Only I know that one.”
“I’ll get it out of you yet, Elmer.”
“I think dinner at the Woods house sounds like a fine idea,” Michael said. “You haven’t been out much lately, Dad.”
Josiah wanted to mention Elmer had been out a week ago for the picnic but socialization was good for recovery. Elmer needed to be around friends his own age, instead of always hanging out with his grown son and daytime nurse.
“Good, then let’s get your coat on and go,” Wayne said. “That chicken won’t cook itself and I’m starving.”
With plenty of people to help get Elmer settled in the back seat of Wayne’s pickup, wheelchair in the bed, Josiah stayed on the couch and watched what he could from his view out a front window. It didn’t hit him right away that this was the first time he’d be completely alone with Michael in this house until Michael came back inside and dead-bolted the door.
“Well, that was a nice surprise,” Michael said, his tone a touch too innocent.
Had they all planned this to give him and Michael time alone together? Did it have something to do with the groceries Michael brought home? The chances were good, but Josiah had no fear of Michael, so he embraced his curiosity and played along. “Yeah, a great surprise. I’m sure Elmer will enjoy himself.”
“Absolutely. Are you getting hungry? I can start something for dinner.”
“Um, sure, that’d be great.” He wasn’t hungry yet, having eaten a late lunch because he’d fallen asleep and napped until Michael got home from work, but Michael sounded eager to cook for him. And Josiah wanted to see what Michael had up his sleeve.
At first, he didn’t hear much from the kitchen other than the sounds of water running or something being chopped. The floorboards creaked as Michael moved around, occasionally passing by the archway between the living room and kitchen with things in his hands, probably setting the eat-in kitchen table to the left of the arch. Their trio had eaten in there a few times but they mostly preferred trays in front of the TV.
A little after five, something began sizzling, and the fragrant aromas of garlic, herbs, and roasting meat delighted Josiah’s nose. Josiah tried to pay attention to the book he was reading and ignore the activities in the kitchen, but now his stomach growled and he practically drooled for whatever Michael was preparing.
Around five thirty, Michael strode directly to the couch and held out his hand. “Dinner is prepared. Ready?”
“Sure.” Josiah took Michael’s hand, accepting the gentle tug to his feet. Michael didn’t let go as he led Josiah into the dining area, and the sight took his breath away. Two lit taper candles in silver holders bookended the old, rectangular table. Two settings were directly across from each other, loaded with food, as well as a glass of water and a wine goblet holding something red. A basket of dinner rolls held court between the plates, along with a small plate of butter.
“Wow,” Josiah said, unsure what else to say as he took in the food. “This looks amazing. You cooked all this?”
“Yup.” Michael pulled out a chair. “Please, sit.”
He did, loving this chivalrous side of Michael; not that he ever doubted Michael had one. His plate had a perfectly seared steak half reclined on a cloud of mashed potatoes, a stack of bright green string beans with bits of bacon in them, all surrounded by a glossy brown gravy. “I feel like I just fell into a fancy steak house. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to. I’m not a gourmet chef, but I do know how to search online recipes for special occasions. I haven’t had a reason to bust one out until now.”
“Why now?”
Michael sat across from him, his expression as adorably shy as Josiah had ever seen on the guy. “Our first date?”
“We’re dating now?”
“Only if you want to consider this our first date. Or our second, if the stargazing last weekend counts as the first. I’m game for either, or neither if you don’t want to.” Michael leaned forward, hands flat on the table. “But I learned something very important this week, and it’s how much I care about you. I needed to show you that somehow. But if this is too much and you don’t feel the same, then no hard feelings. We can go eat by the TV like normal and pretend I didn’t make us a fancy steak dinner.”
“I don’t want to eat like normal.” Josiah couldn’t stop the words even if he’d wanted to, and he didn’t. They’d both come so close to losing a potentially great thing before it ever started, and Michael had been wonderfully supportive this week. Present without smothering, sweet without pressuring. And to top it all off with a home-cooked meal that looked and smelled amazing?
What was a boy to do?
Josiah picked up his wineglass. “To our first date.”
Michael beamed as he picked his up, too. “Our first date.” He gently clinked the rim of his glass to Josiah’s.
