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The Visit
I wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs sizzling in the kitchen. The sheets rustled as I turn to find that Becca is no longer beside me. I smiled, grateful for her presence. After the night I had, I needed her here. I carefully slide out of bed and throw on some shorts before making my way to the kitchen.
Becca was standing at the stove, humming. She turns, her smile brightening at the sight of me. "Morning, sleepyhead," she said, reaching up to peck me on the lips when I walk over to her.
"Morning," I replied, my eyes lingering on her lips for a moment. "Something smells good."
"I thought I'd make us breakfast," she said, gesturing towards the plates on the table. "I hope you don't mind."
Breakfast on a beautiful morning with a beautiful woman, one that I didn’t have to have to cook too. Are you kidding? I shake my head and take a seat. I pick up the fork Becca had laid out beside my plate and cut a slice of the pancakes she had made.
“Hmm,” I hummed deep in my throat. They’re delicious, it’s no wonder her customers come back again despite the high prices. Cause despite a few complaints, most of them came back. Most of them, like me.
“Do you like it?” She asked.
“Is that a rhetorical question? I love it,” I reply.
The food is delicious, and we eat in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. When we finished, I lean back in my chair, feeling content.
"Can we talk?" she asked, getting off the chair and clearing the plates.
“Sure,” I replied, looking around at her.
“Last night...” she started, and I felt my jaw bunch. There, I was thinking I’d gotten away with it. “You had a really bad dream,”
“It was nothing,” I said dismissively. I didn’t want to remember them.
“Hunter, I saw you, it wasn’t nothing,” she replied, walking back to the table and sitting in front of me.
“They’re just memories, they’ll go away,” I said, looking out of the large windows to the water outside. They’re exactly like the tide, sometimes they flood my mind, enough to flow into my dreams and sometimes they just weren’t there.
“You were gasping and choking, you were scared,” Becca said, her eyes on mine as she pleaded for an answer.
“I told you! It’s nothing!” I said. I wished she would stop asking already. Her probing was bringing up memories I wanted to be buried. Buried so deep that they never surfaced again.
She must’ve noticed my exasperation because she nodded and got off the chair, walking to the sink to clean out the plates.
"Ian's coming over," I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin.
"Ian?" she asked, turning back to me with a quizzical look.
"My buddy from the military," I explained. "We served together in Afghanistan. He's in town for a few days, and I promised I'd show him around."
Becca nodded, understanding in her eyes. "You guys are close?"
I nodded. "Yeah, we are. He's been a friend for a long time."
As if on cue, the doorbell rings. I stand up, signaling to Becca to stay put. "I'll get it," I said, making my way to the door.
Standing on the porch was a tall, muscular man with short, buzzed hair and a rugged beard. It was Ian, looking a little jet-lagged but smiling ear to ear.
He steps forward, pulling me into a bear hug. "Hunter, man, it's good to see you," he said, patting me on the back.
"You too, Ian," I replied, returning his embrace. "Come on in, let me introduce you to Becca."
I turned around and led Ian to the kitchen, where I settled into my chair again and he settled into another.
“Becca, this here is Ian, he’s been my friend for ages,” I said to Becca.
