WHEN: February 5, 2021, Friday, dinnertime
WHERE: Jessica’s Notting Hill apartment
WITH: @marcusemilio
The problem with having had a cook at home her whole life was that Jessica Reyes never learned how to cook. She had learned to make simple meals for herself while in university, but anything fancy required at least two practice attempts—which was probably why she’d always found it so attractive when her partners could cook. Sure, it was a sign that they could get by on their own, but more than that, it meant that she never had to learn for them.
So why Jessica offered to cook for her brother’s Friday night visit was unfathomable. It had sounded like a good idea at first, making one of Marcus’ favorite dishes; it felt like an attempt to return to normalcy after being spoiled by the gourmet chef at the Femenias estate (and having had her mother and father pull her into gentle, worried hugs whenever they were in the same room). But after a risotto gone wrong, and a mac and cheese on the pan that seemed to be scheming against her specifically, Jessica gave up and gave her brother a ring: “Em?” Her puppy eyes could probably be heard over the phone—she was good at that—as she continued, guiltily, “So, about dinner…”
By the time Marcus arrived, takeaway in tow, Jessica had cleaned away everything that showed her as a disaster in the kitchen, the risotto and weirdly burnt mac and cheese delicately pushed over the edge of the counter and into the rubbish bin. There was a moment when she considered bringing out the Pepsi her last visitor had brought—but the twinge in her heart as she remembered the last time she’d seen it, arms crossed as if to ward off the cold, made her leave it on top of the pantry instead.
When the doorbell rang, Jessica greeted Marcus at the door with a hug so big it was almost as if they hadn’t been in the same location for the past two days. “Hey, Em!” Her nickname for him slipped out easily—to the world, it was M for Marcus, but it really was Em for Emilio, the man who had given her brother his name, his kindness, his heart—and she sank into the reassuring embrace that reminded her of every argument Marcus had ever refereed among the cousins, every heartbreak he’d ever gotten her through. And though this apartment was Jess’ home rather than theirs, Marcus’ presence was grounding, the sense of familiarity alleviating the pain she’d been beginning to feel by seeing all the places another had touched.
Jessica lingered in their embrace for a moment longer than she needed to—the Reyes siblings were far from touch-starved, but she needed this—before pulling away, bright-eyed. ”Ugh, thank you for bringing dinner, I swear I tried this time?” Her statement ended in a question, and she laughed, shaking her head as she led him inside. “What did you bring? I hope it’s filling because I’m starving.” Famished, even.
