Pizza Dinner Night

Having Taylar Barrenfeld over at my place for dinner was a dream come true—the perfect guest, with Owen out spending time with his family. I wasn’t sure when he’d get back, but my plan was to have Taylar ready and gone by the time he came back from wherever he needed to be for the evening. He knew I was bringing her over, but I wouldn’t want to make the situation awkward—should he ever return unexpectedly and catch the two of us together, doing whatever.

Taylar was kind enough to offer to help me make pizza. I knew this was the last thing she expected when she came by for dinner, thinking we’d order some pizza. Little did she know the twist—we’d make the pizza instead. With every topping I could find including bacon, pineapple, pepperoni, sausage, and the list goes on with a million other toppings you could think of.

As we let the pizza bake in the oven, Taylar gave me a smile, taking off her apron. “I wonder what’s for dessert after all this.”

“I have some ice cream of three different flavors. Not sure which one you’d like best.” I took off my apron, then took hers and folded them both.

“Actually… I’d prefer some salad instead.” I gave her an incredulous look, and she grinned. “What can I say, Schroeder? I really need my greens every day.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have salad in the house. Owen and I have tons of junk food as snacks. Most of which I know now are bad for your heart,” I added.

“Bad for my heart, indeed. I won’t be satisfied if I don’t have my salad, so I’d like to order it from somewhere, if that’s even remotely possible.”

I wanted to do anything to make her feel comfortable as my guest, so if it’s salad she wanted, then it’s salad she’d get. “Would you like it delivered here?”

She nodded. “Yes. Can you check online for the nearest Applebee’s, so we can see their menu?”

“Not a problem.” I took out my phone and sat next to her on the couch. I opened Uber Eats and went to Applebee’s, the one located in Dorchester. I showed her the menu, and she went to the Salad section and picked the Grilled Chicken Caesar Salad with honey mustard as the dressing. She had a great taste in salads, I could tell.

“Are you satisfied with your order?” I gave her a smile.

“I am.”

“Great.” I added it to the cart, made the payment, and success. “Should be here in 40 minutes or less, but in the meantime, let’s enjoy each other’s company.” After an awkward moment of her smiling at me, I said, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your eyes.”

“What about them?”

She moved a little closer to me, her soft hands on my shoulder. “I like how blue they are. They’re like… I don’t know, crystals, or something. Are crystals blue? I know, dumb question. Right?” She chuckled.

She’s so cute when she smiled. “Crystals are like a blue-green, I think, but my eyes are mostly blue,” I said. “No shade of green anywhere. That’s why blue is my favorite color.”

“Really? I didn’t know blue was your favorite color. Guess what mine is?”

I shrugged. “I told you, Barrenfeld… I’m terrible at guessing games. You need to be the one to tell me. What is your favorite color?”

“I have so many, I can’t even choose just one. I guess it sort of depends on my mood of the day, or the day itself. My favorite color could be pink today, and tomorrow it’ll be green or something. So, I do not have a particular favorite color. Is that weird?”

“No, I don’t think it’s weird. I don’t think a lot of people have a favorite color, so it’s totally normal.” I noticed the way she glanced at me with intrigue in her eyes. I didn’t know what it was, but I felt a deep connection with her, and I knew she believed it was mutual. “The color you identify with mostly depends on your personality, or so I’ve learned.”

“I guess you’re right.” She hadn’t taken her gaze off me, and truth be told, I didn’t mind. She was the first girl I’d ever felt attracted to, who I felt comfortable opening up to about my deepest secrets.

I admired her for her non-judgmental attitude, even after everything I’d told her about my traumatic childhood. I was afraid I’d said too much and I might have freaked her out when I didn’t hear from her after some time. But it turns out, we were both busy with our own lives and dealing with our families’ conflict with each other over the weddings. I was relieved to know I didn’t freak her out, nor did she think I was “weird” for not having such a positive view about sex in relationships.

After all the horrors I’d endured as a child, sex was the last thing on my priority list in a relationship. That wasn’t the only thing I looked for in a relationship, and I was glad to know Taylar felt the same way. I guess it’s because we’re in our 30s, so there comes the pressure of finding that special someone to settle down with for the rest of your life. A long-term, committed relationship, not just a fling or a casual hook-up.

“Let’s check on the pizza,” I said softly. She got up and followed me to the kitchen as I opened the oven and saw the pizza being prepped. Perfect. In another 15 minutes or so, it should be ready. I had the timer set on my phone to give us a reminder.

When we returned to the living room, I grabbed the remote and turned on the television. “Do you have anything in particular you’d like to watch tonight?”

She shook her head. “Normally, Lyndsay and I would watch Orange is the New Black. Funny enough, she’s also having pizza for dinner tonight—only this time she’s ordering it while we’re actually making it from scratch at home.” She chuckled. “Looks like we all had the same idea.”

“You’re welcome to message her right now, if you want. I won’t stop you. I know she’s your best friend.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. She trusts me, and I trust her. She’s probably watching Orange is the New Black right now. But I don’t wanna watch anything for now. I just want to enjoy your company and talk to you all night.”

“Are you sure? I could be a bit boring after a while.”

“You don’t bore me, Darrin Schroeder. I’d love to learn more about you, and I’m sure you’d love to learn more about me, too—my up-and-down relationship with Yancey, and all my flaws.”

She was right. The main reason I invited her over was for me to get to know her better. My plan was for us to lose ourselves in each other’s company and forget about our troubles of the day—forget about life, work, and responsibilities for once. Forget about the weddings and the drama stemming from damn broken hotel pens.

“What would you like to know?” I asked.

“Hmm…” She took a moment to think, then smiled. “First, I’d like to see how you look in your uniform and badge, for once.”

My face lit up. “And my handcuffs, too, right?”

“Yeah… That would make me so happy if I saw how you looked in your sexy uniform, Officer Schroeder.” She winked seductively.

“You just promise to be a good girl, and I won’t have a reason to put you in handcuffs.”

She seductively twirled her hair. “What if I don’t wanna be a good girl? What if I wanna be your naughty girl? What’ll you do, then?”

She’s testing me; I knew it.

“I don’t know what I’ll do, but if there’s anything I feel the urge to do, it’s kissing you. But obviously, I’d never do that without your permission… Unless you want me to?”

“I want you to,” she said candidly. “Honestly, I feel the same about you. I feel the urge to kiss you too, but I wanna be sure it’s something you’re comfortable with. I’d hate to make you feel weirded out.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna weird you out, either. It’s good to ask for each other’s consent. We are adults, after all. Nothing should stop us.”

She smiled as I checked the timer on my phone—eight more minutes until the pizza’s ready. “Almost done?” she asked.

“Yup.” I nodded. I checked my UberEats account for the update of her Applebee’s salad delivery—less than 30 minutes now. By the time we finished a slice or two of pizza, the salad should be on its way. “And your salad should be here anytime soon. Mind if we share it when it comes?”

“I don’t mind, Schroeder.” She shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“Whatever makes me happy,” I chuckled. “You’re the guest, Taylar! Why should I be happy when I’m the host?”

“You make a sexy host.”

The TV was on a news channel by default, the typical bad news of shit happening all over the world every single day. Just in case Taylar decided to change her mind later, saying we should watch something. But for now, it’s on—volume muted. “You don’t need to hear about Biden’s plans for our country, if you’re not that interested.” I smiled.

“Biden… Isn’t he like, 85, or something?” She giggled. “A little old to be President, don’t you think?”

I shrugged. “Eh, close enough, I suppose. I barely pay much attention to political news, anyway, so I wouldn’t know… Nor do I really care.”

Five minutes before the pizza was ready, I went to the kitchen to distribute two large Dixie paper plates for us. For beverages, we had some beer, soda, juice and water in the house. Taylar came to the kitchen, and I asked, “So, what would you like to drink?”

“Just water is fine for now.”

“Water it is.” I got a cup, poured her some water and gave it to her. “Here you go, and I’ll get the trays.”

“Why do you guys have trays?”

I gave her an inquisitive glance. “Barrenfeld, do you live in the 21st century or not? Everyone should have trays in their home for serving food. You mean to tell me you and Lyndsay don’t have trays?”

She shook her head. “No, but I think we might consider getting some.”

“Everyone’s supposed to have at least one tray in their house. One of these days, you and I will go shopping for the perfect trays for you and your friend. Hopefully, Lyndsay won’t mind.”

“Don’t worry; she won’t mind.”

“I’m sure she won’t.”

Soon, the pizza was ready and my phone’s timer—and the kitchen timer—went off at the same time. Two alerts in one… Perfect.

Taylar grabbed an oven mitt and opened the oven. I wore one as well, and we worked together to carry the perfectly baked, steaming hot pizza. Our hard work for tonight paid off well. The baked to perfection pizza was proof of our collaboration. Taylar would probably think she and I could be chefs together on a cooking show. Not in this lifetime, but I admired her ability to fantasize about such greatness.

“We did it!” she exclaimed.

“We sure as hell did.”

We gave each other a hug as if to congratulate ourselves for our accomplishment of making homemade pizza, but at that moment, it felt like there was something more. As we leaned close to each other, I couldn’t fight the urge to control myself when her lips nearly touched mine—her fresh, sweet red lips. I hated to resist, but something in me told me it just wasn’t the right time. I didn’t want to risk scaring her off.

“Why did you hold back just now?” she asked softly.

“Oh, I…” I cleared my throat. “I don’t know. Weren’t you ready?”

“I was, Darrin. I don’t know what it is, but I think I’m attracted to you more than I’m supposed to be.”

“Really?” I gave her an amazed look. “Are you attracted to me, or are you attached to me? I feel like there’s a difference.”

“Care to teach me what the difference is?” She gave me a soft smile. “I don’t wanna scare you off if you don’t feel the same way, and I’d totally understand if you’d want to take things more slowly. We’re just beginning to get to know each other outside of our sisters’ wedding planning.”

“I don’t doubt our chemistry, but I’m ready if you are, Taylar.”

“Okay, then I’ll answer your question—both. I’m attracted to you, and I’m attached to you as well. I always look forward to chatting with you every night after a long busy day. I wish we could have more moments like this with each other, free from all the drama and everything, including your mom’s surgery… Which by the way, congrats to you guys and thank God your mom pulled through. That’s all the more reason to celebrate with each other tonight, so why don’t we make the most out of it while we’re here? Do you think she’ll be okay in time for the weddings?”

“She’ll be fine. I’m sure of it, according to the doctors,” I reassured her. “She’ll just have to go through the motions of carefully monitoring her health every week, but we’ll all be there for her. She won’t need to undergo chemo or anything serious for the time being, and that’s a relief. I wanted you here to celebrate that good news… I love how understanding you are about everything. I love everything about you, Taylar. I…” I fought the urge to say I love you. “I mean it… Really. I wouldn’t say any of this if it weren’t true.”

“I know, Darrin,” she said so softly, almost to the point of a whisper. “Don’t explain yourself. I know you mean everything you say to me.”

I smiled as I got out the pizza cutter and began slicing the pizza into eight equal—and slightly messy—halves. Taylar laughed, apparently not knowing there’s no universally correct way to slice pizza neatly. “In the future, you’ll give it a try, Barrenfeld.”

“Ah, so you admit we do have a future together?” She grinned. “By the way, I love everything about you too, Darrin Schroeder. I really mean it. I’d never lie about my feelings for you.”

“That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me. I love how kind and understanding you are. And that sense of humor… That’s a plus. Don’t ever lose it, Barrenfeld.”

“Trust me, I won’t. It’ll always be there.”

I decided we should start off with one slice at a time, so I put one slice on her plate and one on mine. Owen and I had six trays in the house, so I gave Taylar one to put her pizza plate on and I put mine on another tray as we went to the living room. Time for some Netflix.

Owen and I had been binge-watching a medical drama, The Resident—currently on Season Two. I wasn’t sure if Taylar’s familiar with that show, but I knew she’s a huge fan of Orange is the New Black.

“Wanna watch The Resident?” I asked.

“I don’t know what that show is about, but I’ll watch it with you and maybe after that, we can watch Orange is the New Black. Though I’d hate to watch a new episode without Lyndsay. I should probably message her first to see what episode she’s watching right now, so I know I’m not behind her or ahead of her.”

“No problem, Barrenfeld. No harm in asking your friend the right questions. Your salad’s almost on the way, in case you’re wondering.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” She took out her phone and started messaging Lyndsay as I pulled up a Season Two episode of The Resident, picking up on the episode Owen and I had been watching last.