Julie rang the doorbell and reapplied her chap stick.  It was her second time at this place and she laughed at herself for being so freaked out the last time they were here.  It’s amazing what a week would do.  It had been one week, just one simple week and so much had occurred.  She wouldn’t say this out loud to anyone but she really thought that her life had changed.  Last week she was going down a path, a path of destruction.  Well maybe not destruction, but she was getting deeper into the lonely, closed off world that she was molding around her and now, now with a friend, things were different.  Things were awesome.          

And the best part about it all was that she was about to watch a baseball game and have a home cooked meal with that friend.  It was going to be fun, actual fun with another human being who wasn’t an employee or her dad.  Blake barely had time to respond to her text messages, let alone phone calls.  He was apologetic of course, but she didn’t want him to feel guilty for having a boyfriend and having little free time.  She was happy for him.

She pulled off her St. Louis hat to resituate it with her ponytail through the hole in the back and waited for him to answer the door.

The morning before, she had walked into the coffee shop and immediately smiled when she saw him there, leaning against the counter, relaxed.  He looked like he had always belonged there.  He was already comfortable, chatting with staff and regulars like he had known them forever.  When he focused on her, he smiled back at her and she said, “Morning early bird.”         

“Good morning, your usual?”

She had put her hand on her hip and tilted her head at him, “How do you know my usual? And what are you doing behind the register?”

“I want to know every facet so I’m spending the day learning how to barista and take orders. It’ll also help when we get in rushes in the morning for me to come out here and make sure no one’s waiting too long.”

“And how do you know my usual?”

He nodded over to the girl that was handing someone else their finished order. “Rayann taught me. English Breakfast to go every day for free, but a cappuccino for here that you pay for on Fridays.”

Julie waved at her when she came over, “Hey girl.”

“Hey darlin’.” Rayann hooked her arm with Justin’s.  “I’m so glad I have such a sexy boss.”

“Switching teams, eh?” Julie smiled and Rayann just winked at her.  Rayann was a cool girl, and her and Julie had actually partied a few times together when she had gone to gay bars with Blake.  Her appearance was a little off putting and scary, but she was the kindest person you’d ever meet and so much fun to dance with.

“Am I gonna have to go over the harassment policy with you again?” Justin laughed.

“Have you taught him how to make cappuccinos, yet?  ‘Cause you know you make the best.  I love Chris and all but the guy needs better skills.”

Rayann pulled away from him and pulled the carafe of cream from the far side of the counter where all the other coffee add-ons were, “I’m working my way up with him.  He just learned how to use the coffee machine and the hot water lever.”  She laughed as she pulled a large carton of cream from a small fridge they had below the counter and began to refill the carafe.

Justin asked her, “But espresso pulls are next right?”

“If you think you’re ready.” She pushed the cream container at Justin and grumbled to him when a man in a suit walked through the door, “Oh let me get him, he’s complicated.”

Julie walked over to the far end of the counter to wait and not take up space.  She watched as Justin finished refilling the cream and then moved to put some tea in a filter and filled up a to-go cup of hot water.  “So what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked her over his shoulder.

“I dunno, why?”

“Wanna come over and watch the game with me?”  He wiggled his eyebrows at her and handed her her tea.

“Starts at 7?”

“Yeah.  I’ll make us dinner and we can just chill out and you can cry because my team is going to slaughter yours.”

They had both laughed.  He was always making her laugh now.  It felt good.  She hadn’t laughed this much in a while.   Things were easy with them, so damn easy and natural.  They didn’t flirt, joked around sure, but it was like old buddies, like they had known each other forever.  There was a comfort with him she had never really felt with a guy before, not a single, straight guy.  It felt really nice.

But now, in this moment, when the front door swung open, she wasn’t met with a hearty male laugh or a dig about her team, instead a confused looking Nik was there.   Julie smiled at her and she wondered if her and John were going to hang with them.  “Hey…”

“Um, hey…”  Nik’s eyebrows were furrowed.  “What are you doing here?”

Julie walked past her and put her keys on a table that was by the door.  “I’m going to watch a ballgame with Justin. Y’all gonna watch with us?”

“No, we were going to go out.”  Nik had her hand on her hip and was eyeing Julie.

“Oh ok. Cool.”

Nik continued to just stare at her boss.   They hadn’t moved from the foyer.  Nik’s mouth opened, then shut and finally she said slowly, “So, you’re gonna be here alone with Justin?”  A smile slowly crept onto her face and then she nudged her boss in the shoulder, “I’m so proud of you.”

Julie was checking her phone and shook her head for a moment, before leaning over to put her phone by her keys.  She was now wishing it had been Justin who had opened the door and greeted her, and not an interrogation party. “What are you talking about?  Where is he?”

“John’s on the phone in the kitchen.  Justin’s taking a shower, I think.  You look pretty.”

Julie looked down at her sneakers, cropped yoga pants and her extra long Red Cardinals tank top.  “What? Really?”  Was Nik crazy?  She had on a hat!

“You got pretty for him.”

Julie laughed loudly, “I absolutely did not.  I’m in stretch pants, Nik!”

“Guys like that comfy look.”  Nik shrugged a little.

Julie rolled her eyes. “Right, and that’s exactly what I was thinking about when I put it on. What kind of slob clothing would make him want me?”

“Who wants who?”  They both looked over and John was smiling at them walking from the kitchen.

“Nothing.  Your girl is just being mean.”

John hooked an arm around Nik’s waist, biting his lip at her before turning to Julie, “I’m glad you’re watching this with him, ‘cause I’ve got better plans tonight.”

“Where y’all going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Julie nodded.  She really was happy for them.  It had only really been a week for them, but they had spent quite some time together and Nik was blissfully happy.  They made a nice pair. 

Heavy quick steps were on the stairs and she turned to see him padding down the steps with busted and ratty old khaki shorts, bare feet and a navy t shirt hanging over his bare shoulder.  His hair still looked a little damp and he was beaming at her.   She thought about making a working out comment to him since he had made one about her body the other day walking back from the association meeting, but she just knew Nik and John would eat it up and never let it go.  So she didn’t look at the muscle in his chest and arms or his own narrow waist and just waved at him.  

“Hey.”

He lifted his hand to give her a high five and she smacked it with his.

“You ready to get your chop on?”  She asked, then mocked seriousness. “We’re going to slaughter, y’all”

“Red Birds don’t stand a chance, my friend.”  He pulled the shirt over his head. She made at face at him and followed him towards the kitchen.

“Hey…”  John called out, front door open, Nik swinging her small purse beside her.  Julie turned around, she had kind of forgotten they were there.  “We may or may not be back tonight.  Want me to text you?”

“Whatever, it’s just Jules.”  Justin shrugged.  The brothers smiled at each other and then the door shut as they left.

Julie watched as he fiddled with his phone, putting some music on.  He put on a Buddy Holly Pandora station and she asked him as he was fumbling with the sound, “Did you make a food decision?  I’m hungry.”

He leaned against the kitchen island, “I thought we’d make a pizza.”

“Make one?”

He opened the fridge, bent over and pulled out a plastic wrapped soft ball of creamy colored dough.  He sat it on the counter. “Yeah, I made dough last night.” He went back to the fridge and looked over at her.  “Are you good with beer, or do you want me to run to the store?”

“Sure.” He pulled them out each a Fat Tire and opened it for them with the bottle key.  They sipped and stared at each other.  Julie smiled at him, “Do you mind if we make it now, I’m starving—or do you have snacks?  I’m just all around thinking about food right now”

“Girl, I got it all.  What you want?  We could just go ahead and make it. You like sausage and peppers?”

“Sounds amazing.”  He gave her two thumbs up and started pulling items out of the fridge and off the counter.  An unlabeled mason jar of tomato sauce, cheese, some sausage, pepper and garlic from a little basket on the kitchen island.  She just watched him work.  He prepped everything, portioning it all like he was a pro.  It was kind of entertaining to watch.  “So,”  she said after a few minutes of silence.  “I was thinking.  Tonight is the opening night for the Rats.”

“Oh cool.”  He nodded at her.

She chewed on her bottom lip and when he looked up at her, she said, “You wanna go tomorrow?  Game starts at 7.  I mean, we don’t have to.  I know we’re hanging out tonight and you’ll be tired of me by then.  But, I’m probably gonna go no matter what.”

“That sounds awesome.”  He threw some flour on the counter and then began to roll out the dough.  He was getting it on his faded Braves tee shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

“We could ask Nik and John to come, but Nik doesn’t really like sports so…”

“Screw them.  Let’s go.”  He shrugged.  “There’s nothing better than seeing a game live.  Even if it’s a River Rat….”

“What can I help you do?”

He nodded to the fridge.  “You wanna make us a salad?”

“I think I can handle that.”

“Just raid what you want in the fridge.”

She walked over, there was a bag of lettuce in there and a cucumber, so she pulled that out and figured she’d add some of his pepper.  “So when did you get into cooking?”

“Recently, actually.  I cooked all the time for dad when he was sick and just kind of learned how to make stuff.  It was something to do while I was stuck at home with him, ya know?  I could read and study recipes and try them out, so it was a good way to pass the time.  Do you cook?”  He had already pulled her out a bowl, a knife and a cutting board. 

“Sometimes.  I like to bake cookies.  But like, I've never made my own pizza dough or ground my own burger meat.  I love food, but I love it most when someone makes it for me.”

They chopped for a minute, just listening to some old 50s music.  She bopped her head along and swayed her hips a little to “Do You Love Me” by the Contours.  It was hard for her not to dance when a good song was on and she wasn’t embarrassed to make a fool of herself in front of him.  It didn’t take long before she had her salad done and he was busy assembling the pizza onto a baking sheet, sausage sizzling in a pan.  “Do me a favor and grab some basil off the patio?”

She smiled and walked towards the patio seeing multiple little terracotta pots with green plants in them, “Oh my god, you are a nerd with an herb garden.  I love it.”

The patio looked a little better in the week since she’d been there.  They had done some work on it, with herbs in little pots and they had put a table with an umbrella out there with actual chairs.  The camping chairs were gone and the grill had a cover of it.

When she came back in and handed him the basil leaves, he said to her, “I met Mr. Strickland yesterday.”

“What?”  She stopped smelling the basil scent left over on her hands and just stared at him.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I went over there during my lunch break.  I was just going to introduce myself to the staff at the front desk and he was there.”

“He was there?”  She was still shocked.  She hadn’t seen the old grump in several months.

“Yeah.  He was nice.”  Justin said simply.  “I mean yes, old and grumpy.  But he was nice.”

“He hates me.”  Julie groaned and finished off the last of her beer.

Justin laughed at her.  “No he doesn’t.”

“Whenever I see him, like the few times, he just grumbles hello.”

“Well I told him to be on the lookout for the notes from the meeting.”

She groaned again.  Great, now she had homework with a due date.  “Yeah, I gotta get that all together this weekend.  I’ll send it to you first, since you are spearheading our revitalization project.  Trying to impress everyone the first week.”  He laughed at her and shrugged sheepishly.

They talked mildly for a while about the stores and about his ideas and before they knew it, the game was on, they were both draped over their own couch.  He had his paper plate resting on his chest, pizza in his mouth.  She had her’s in her lap, sitting Indian style.   She had been so hungry, they had eaten their salad at the barstools by the kitchen island while they waited for the pizza to cook.

He asked with a mouth full of food, “Like it?”

“It's amazing.”  She sipped her beer.  “So who's your favorite Braves player?”

“Freddy's my man.”

“Freeman?”

“Yeah, he's a nerd.”  He stuck his tongue out at her. “Like you.”

She rolled her eyes, “So you've always liked baseball?”

“Oh yeah.  But last year dad and I watched every Braves game so I kind of feel like I have to carry on the tradition as much as possible.”

“So he was sick all last season?”  She didn’t want to pry, but wanted to talk to him about this.  He seemed to carry this weight on him still, and maybe conversation about his dad was something that could help him shrug that weight off.  And she was really curious about the situation, too.  She also felt like they knew each other decently enough now, after only two measly days, that if he was uncomfortable talking about it, he’d say so.

“Yeah.  We knew he was terminal, ok let me think…”  He pushed himself up from his laying position and sat up more against the arm rest of the couch, staring up at the ceiling, thinking.  “He got diagnosed before Christmas in ‘12, did chemo and all that.  Yeah, ok, so it was about May, so a year ago when we found out that he probably wouldn't survive. Expectancy was 6 months, and he went about 9.”

“What kind of cancer did he have?”

“Pancreatic.”

Julie put her slice down on her plate. “Oh...”

He looked over at her.  “Yeah, the death sentence kind.” 

“That must have been hard.”

“All of us were kind of in shock, did the macho, we're gonna fight and beat this thing and kind of hid how scared we were.  Ya know, it was just us guys.  Dad did treatments and everything.  We were supportive.  I quit school to help him out, and then one day, he came back from a doctor's appointment and told us that the doctor said his pancreas was completely malignant and that it was spreading to the stomach and intestines.”

Julie watched the TV, afraid that if she looked at him he’d start crying, or she would, or something else awkward would happen.  But she was listening to every word he said.  “Oh my God.”

“Yeah.  Ya know when people say 'the cancer just ate him up' that's like exactly what happened.  There was no chopping off this or removing that and getting on with your life.  It wasn't pretty.”

Suddenly her team made a sweet double play and she couldn’t help herself but saying, “ooo! Nice!”  Immediately, she glanced over and he was just staring at her.  She felt horrible for her outburst. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“It's alright, we'll get you guys back.  We'll show you birds what rude means.”

“No,” she laughed. “I’m talking about interrupting you talking about your dad to cheer for my team.”

“It's ok.  I know you don't want to talk about this.”  He looked back at the TV.  He had said it slowly and softly.

“I do!  I will even turn the TV off if you need me to.”  She pretended to reach for the remote.

He still sounded a little off when he said, “No we can watch.”

It was quiet for a moment, and they just watched the game.  A boring half inning of ground outs and pop ups passed and she knew that she needed to get him back talking.  Talking about it seemed to be like therapy for him, and she didn’t want him thinking she didn’t care, when in reality she cared a lot.  It was interesting, to be honest, to watch him go through the motions of grief.  She was amazed by how he held it together, how open he was with it.  She knew everyone handled these things differently, but to be honest, his handling of it was in some weird way comforting and graceful.  She had no idea what he had done when it had happened.  He could have broken down and slobbered and sobbed all over the world.  She wouldn’t have blamed him. 

“Was it like more shocking that he had cancer or more that he wouldn't make it?”  She asked when a Stand Up For Cancer commercial came on the TV.

He sucked in a breath and pulled another piece over to his plate from the baking sheet they had put on a trivet on the middle of the big coffee table. “I knew as soon a he called last spring and said he wanted to talk to me and John what was happening.  I just had this feeling.  John was an ass.  I mean, I shouldn't say that.  John just doesn't know how to be emotional.  So he finds out that its terminal and won't accept it.  He tells dad to fight, to find a new doctor. He stormed out even.”

“Yikes.”  For a moment, Julie worried about Nik.  This guy seemed to be a little bit of a hot head.

“Dad didn't mind.  In a way, it was John's way of telling dad how much it mattered.  I got angry sometimes, too.  Sometimes dad and I would get in the biggest fights.  Then he'd like pass out or start choking and I'd feel bad.  Our fights would be about stupid shit like me forgetting to take the trash out or not coming immediately when he yelled for me because he dropped the remote or something.  We never stayed mad more than a minute and we’d always laugh afterwards.  But John has never really seemed to forgive dad.”

“For what?”

He shrugged, “Giving up.”

“That's what he thinks happened?”

“Yeah.  It was easier for him to blame dad for letting cancer happen to him than blaming cancer, or God, or whatever for doing this to our dad.”

“And who do you blame?”  It came out of her mouth automatically, and she knew it wasn’t something she should ask.  She immediately said,   “Sorry...that's not what I mean to ask.”

“No.  You're right.  I do blame someone.  I guess...”  He seemed quiet but angry and wasn’t eating his pizza, just staring at TV, not blinking.  She needed to lighten it up.    

She saw the commercial on the TV and said, “You know who I blame?”

“Hmm?”

“I blame Axe body spray for everything wrong with the world.” He was giving her a goofy grin now.  “I have yet to meet a woman who thinks Axe smells good.”

“That's what I wear.”

“You do not.” She demanded and then asked quietly, “Do you really?”

“Hell no.  I’m not 16,” he laughed and took a huge bite out of his pizza. She grinned, good, he was back from the brink.

“What do you wear?”

“I don’t know.  It was my dad’s.”  He swallowed and cut his eyes over to her.  “That's weird, isn’t it?”  She didn’t know how to comment and he started laughing at himself, “Oh my god, I'm wearing my dead dad's cologne.”

“I think it smells nice.  And it's only slightly weird.  Just don't start wearing his clothes.”  He just stared at her blankly and Julie covered her mouth, stifling a lap.  “You wear his clothes, too?”

“He lost like 30 pounds in 3 months!  He had all these nice shirts he couldn’t wear anymore so he gave me all his clothes!” He said defensively.

“This is like the start of either a really, really sad cable movie or a horror film.”

 “Bam, strike three you're out Molina,” he yelled and Julie shook her head and finished her beer.

“Yadi!!”  She whined and then pointed her empty beer bottle at him.  “Another?”

“Sure, thanks girl.”  She walked around the back of his couch and grabbed the empty bottle from his outreached hand.  

She put the bottles on the counter and went to the fridge, calling out to him, “I'm not going to say your dad's clothes are ugly, ‘cause they aren’t.  But maybe when you get your first paycheck, go buy yourself some of your own clothes.”

“Maybe,” he said.

She walked back into the den with their beers and he reached out for his.  She didn’t give it yet and said to him seriously, “I only say this because we're friends.  One day, a pretty girl is going to say, ‘Hey Justin, you're cute.  I like your shirt and the way you smell.  What kind of cologne do you wear?  Where did you get your shirt? It looks nice on you.’  As soon as you say 'from my dead dad' you will be by yourself, all alone.”

“Maybe she'll take pity on me and comfort me, unlike some other people.”

She glared and finally handed him his beer. “You just need some of your own belongings.”

“Why?”

She shrugged and plopped back down on her couch.  “You wear your dad's clothes, you drive your dad's car, you live in your brother's house.”

“Well, I was thinking...”

“What?”

“I love my pick-up, so that ain't going nowhere.”

She smiled at him.  She liked his truck, too.  She had seen it in the parking lot at work.  It was bright red, just a small Ford pick-up, but it was cute and perfectly fit his personality.  This morning, in fact, they had arrived about the same time to work.  He was sitting in it, talking on the phone and he looked good.  He honked his horn at her and it about made her pee her pants, but when she saw it was him she laughed and waved.  “Good, because I may need to buy a washer and dryer and may need you to be my delivery man.”

He rolled his eyes and said, “What I was saying is if things work out with the coffee shop, maybe I'll look for my own place.  I mean, I'm not currently paying rent.  It's not like it would put John out.    And I don't really want to own my own place quite yet, but just maybe getting an apartment or something.”

“Rooming with big bro ain't all it's cracked up to be, huh?”

“It's fine.  It's just like, him and Nik are here all the time and now that Calvin's gone, it's just...I can tell we may get in some arguments.  And I’m sorry, but your employee comes like a fucking freight train.  His bedroom is right below mine and it’s annoying to hear it.”

Her eyes widened, “Whoa!”

“Maybe I can move in with you.” He grinned.

“Hell to the no.  I do not need a roommate.”

“Personal cook?”

That actually might be awesome, she thought.  But she laughed and said, “Well...no, I'll help you find a place.”

“Maybe the apartments Mr. Str-”

She cut him off.  “No.  Do not live there.  You can find a nice little bungalow apartment home perfect for a bachelor in my neighborhood.”

“Where do you live?”

“In the neighborhood behind the shop.  Kilbourne Heights. A lot of professors live back there.  Lots of neat small homes.”

“I figured you'd be in a mansion.”

“Nah, it's pretty big just for me, but I'm not fancy.”

He laughed at her and said, “Drives a Beemer, but wears mismatched socks.”

She looked down at her feet.  She had put on one white sock and another grey one.  She hadn’t even noticed.  She laughed at herself and then wiggled her eyebrows and feet at him, “Sexy, huh?”

He shook his head and took a long swallow from his beer.  “You have no idea.”  She looked back at the TV so she wouldn’t catch herself staring at his goofy smile.