Deana woke up the next morning, feeling his arm around her. She smiled, trying to lift his arm up. 

Justin tightened his arm around her. “Nope,” he whispered in her ear. “Last time I let you go, I almost lost you. I’m never going to let that happen again.”  He kissed her cheek. 

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” he answered. “I’ve been awake for maybe 5 minutes? I like this. I almost got up to make breakfast, but I didn’t want to scare you by not being here when you woke up.”

“Thank you. At some point you can, but yeah, this morning might have just brought back old memories.”

“I do wanna make you breakfast though. Why don’t you take a shower and I get started on breakfast?””

“I don’t want to leave your arms…” she said, snuggling further into him. 

“5 more minutes? You still have to go to work today…”

“Fine.  Is that why you want me to move in, quit my job, so we can just lay in bed together all day?”

“I mean, that definitely has appeal…”

Deana grudgingly got up to take a shower, Justin headed into the kitchen.  He looked around and saw the whole wheat pancake mix.  “Interesting…”  He looked in the fridge and started getting ideas.  He got out her pans, old, faded, and some of them warped.  “Yeah, we’re definitely getting rid of these once she moves in, she needs quality stuff…”

The water cascaded over Deana, taking her time to relax.  I can’t believe everything worked out, she thought.  He surprised me, we’re making plans for the short term, heading towards long term.  This could be it.  It’s scary, but at the same time it feels good.  I’m not normally good with change, but with Bruce, I feel safe.

She got dressed for work, then came out in the living room to see him cooking.  “Do you have like every pan I own on the stove right now?” she asked, seeing the amount of stuff he was using.

“Basically, yes,” he laughed.  “I figured I’d try some different things using what you have.  Question, are you attached to your kitchen stuff?”

“Some of it, why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just for when you move in.  I’ve got a full set of stuff, but if there’s anything you HAVE to bring with you, go ahead.  This stuff has seen better days, I gotta say.”

“It gets the job done, more or less.  Let me see what would HAVE to come with me.  I’m telling you now, the reason I’m attached is memories of Gammy…”

“So yes, you HAVE to have them because no one else will have the memories attached to them…”

“Exactly.  See, you get me.”  She looked around the kitchen.  “This salt shaker.  Just the salt, I hate pepper, so it’s gone.”  She opened a cabinet.  “This cup right here.  I used this cup from when I was a toddler.  It’s Tupperware, and they had little lids that snapped on to make it a sippy cup, then transition to just a regular cup.  This one was MY cup.”

Justin smiled, watching her tell him stories without asking her to do so.  It helped him get to know her better in ways he might never have gotten.

“These bowls, Gammy would make pasta salads and stuff for when everyone would come over for holidays or summer barbecues, so they have a lot of memories attached of her cooking and family time together growing up.”  She opened a drawer.  “And of course, the chow cheater…” she held it up, Justin looking confused.  

“Um, that’s a silicone spatula…”

“Nope, she called it a chow cheater.  Cuz it would cheat you out of licking off the sides of the bowl.  Though let’s face it, she’d let me use this to scrape every last bit of whatever we were making and treat it like a giant spoon.  Somewhere we have the ice cream maker she used in the summers, or on Valentine’s Day.  She’d take the conversation hearts and make vanilla ice cream and sprinkle them in.  The ice cream base would soften them up so they melted in your mouth.  It’s the only way I’ll eat conversation hearts.”

“We’ll be on the road this year, but next year you’re making that for me, I have to at least try it,” Justin said.  “You and Gammy seemed really close.”

“I love my mom, but Gammy raised me.  I didn’t go to preschool or anything like that, I was at Gammy’s house when I wasn’t at home most of the time.  Once I started school, I’d still get picked up every afternoon, my playdates would get in the car, she'd drop them off later.  It also helped that I was her favorite.  She never let it show when we were kids, but as an adult she told me.”

“Well, whatever else has memories of her, pack it.  I want OUR place to be full of memories and stories to tell for years to come.”

“Years, huh? You’re starting to sound real serious about us…” she said, running her hand up his arm.

“Maybe I am.  Is that a bad thing?”

“A couple months ago, I’d have said yes.  Now, after everything that’s happened, it sounds like the best thing in the world.”

“Good,” he said, giving her a quick kiss.  “I’m almost done, you’re gonna distract me and ruin breakfast.”

Deana sat down at the kitchen table, watching Justin finish putting things together.  He grabbed plates, her cup, and started putting things out for them.

“Blueberry pancakes, and I tried to recreate the picture of your eggs with the veggies on top.  Not sure I got it just right, but I tried.”

“It looks and smells great, baby, thank you.”  She poured herself a glass of juice, and started on her food.  “This is amazing. You definitely got the eggs down.  Though I like mine more firm, less runny yolk.  A little is fine, but too runny and it’s just a mess.”

“We have some time still, favorite and least favorite food memories,” he asked.  

“I can start with my least favorite.  I want to say it was Thanksgiving, because we had yams and pineapple with mini marshmallows browned on top.  I was helping clear the table, picked up the bowl of yams, and it slipped out of my hands.  I went to catch it, but it broke, and cut me on the edge of my wrist.  I still have a scar from it, here.”  She showed him the small cut on the edge of her inner wrist.  “Nothing gross as far as having a least favorite food, though I have an unpopular opinion on bacon.  She always made it too crispy, so I never ate it.”

“You don’t like bacon?” he asked, surprised.

“Most places overcook it.  I like mine cooked just a little, hers was practically burnt.  Oh, which reminds me of another story…”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Every Tuesday night, my Poppy would have Elder meetings at church. She would fix popcorn to eat.  But she would pop the popcorn, then melt butter, put the butter on the popcorn, then put it BACK in the microwave.  We knew when it was Tuesday nights for years because the house would reek of burned popcorn.  Now I miss that smell sometimes, but only in memories.  The smell of burned popcorn reminds me of her.”

“And favorite?”

“My birthday sometimes falls on Mother’s Day, so getting to eat my birthday breakfast on Mother’s Day was always special.  It meant the poor guys in the family had to get gifts for all the girls.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Well, we have video of me crying at my sister’s birthday because she got presents and I didn’t.  Her birthday is January 3rd, so it’s right after Christmas.  I was too young to know the difference, so they made it a tradition that for all us kids’ birthdays, everyone got presents.  The siblings only got one, but everyone got something.  So on my birthday that would fall on Mother’s Day, Dad and Poppy would have to buy for Mom, Gammy, myself, and my siblings.  I remember my favorite birthday present, I was 10, and it was a double holiday.”

“Go on…”

“I got this carousel with all these horses.  The crank was on the top and it was a working carousel.  As you turned it, it would spin and play music.  The horses moved and everything.  I only have one of the horses left, and even then I’m not sure where it is.  Though there were other great birthday presents, but those happened to be coincidences…”

“Yeah?”

“The No Strings Attached Tour started on my 17th birthday, but it was way too far to go see them.  That same day was when their episode of Sesame Street aired.  I felt like a freaking weirdo recording Sesame Street at 17 years old, but to watch them sing was worth it.  My best friend Lori made me a sweatshirt that had a picture of Justin on the front.  And on the back it said Justin and Deana forever.  I lost it at some point over the years, but I can still picture it in my head.”

Justin and Deana forever, let’s hope so, he thought, a smile spreading across his face.

“What’s with the smile?” she asked, taking another bite of food.

“Just getting to hear you tell stories.  You’re like me, you tell all these other little stories along the way to let people really get the full experience.  Sometimes a simple 5 minute story can take like half an hour.  It’s cute.”

“When do I get to hear some of your stories?”

“Soon.  I’ll have plenty to tell once we’re on the road, stories of different places I’ve been, people I’ve worked with that are special to me.  Sharing my world with you.”

“I look forward to it.  Do you need to get home, do anything before tomorrow?”

“Probably.  Do I want to?  No.  I like being here with you.”

“Like you said, I have work in a bit, you aren’t gonna stay here for my full shift, are you?”

“Maybe I’ll start going through stuff at my place; clear out some room for your things to move in.  That just sounds so good to say.  I’m glad we’re back in that direction.”

“Me too.  You coming back over later after I’m off work?”

“If that’s ok…”

“Definitely.  No dinner, it’ll be way too late for normal people to eat…”

“I’ll bring something for us.  With my schedule lately, I eat at all kinds of strange hours. Usually I’m getting ready for the show to start, but I could eat around then, if it means more time with you.”

“I can’t wait.  I’ll take care of dishes since you cooked, and you can head home, shower in your own bathroom, I’m sure that’s something you take for granted.  Hotels are great, but there’s nothing like being home.”

“Especially once it means sharing that home with the woman I love…” He kissed her cheek and headed home.

Deana had butterflies and this warm feeling all over her body.  “This is truly amazing,” she sighed.  “I don’t know how I got so lucky…”