Bringing baking supplies to Michelle, part 1

Michelle opened the front door, wiping her hands on a dish towel. When she saw John on the step with the box, her eyes lit with surprise and warmth. “John? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” She stepped aside, smiling. “Your mom said she was going to drop those old baking things off, but I didn’t expect you. Come in.” "Hey, Michelle! Yeah, she decided to send me instead. Said it would do good for me to go out and socialise." She took the box. Her fingers brushed his for a second longer than necessary. The house smelled of coffee and the vanilla candle she always burned. “Sit, please. Would you like some coffee?” She looked through old measuring cups, well worn cake pans, a rolling pin. “These are perfect. I was thinking about that lemon loaf again. Your mom’s always been better at the baking than me.” She glanced at him, shy, and leaned against the counter. “How have you been? It’s been quiet since the kids are both at school all day. Makes the house feel too big sometimes.” John smiled and sat. “I've been... alright. Mostly just working, you know." After sitting down, he took a moment to look at her properly. "It's been a while. You look great.” Color rose in her cheeks. “Thank you, John. That’s sweet.” She tucked hair behind her ear. “It’s been a few years. You grew up so fast.” She moved toward the coffee maker. The sway of her hips showed in the mom jeans. John noticed and looked away almost at once. Michelle noticed him looking. “How do you take it?” It took a moment for John to realise she was asking about the coffee. “Uhh, black is just fine, thanks. How are the kids?” “The kids are doing okay. Sophie is a senior now, talking about colleges. Ethan is a year behind her, a sophomore, still more interested in soccer than homework, but his grades are holding up. They’re out until late afternoon. Sometimes the house is too quiet. It’s nice having someone else here.” She set the mug in front of him. Her fingers brushed the back of his hand and stayed. "Your mom sounded worried about you when she last called. You've been working too hard?" He kept his voice easy. “As a single guy with barely any hobbies, it’s easy to take more work than needed. I do miss socializing. Like right now.” She had caught the way his eyes dropped. Warmth spread across her cheeks. She leaned against the table near him. “That sounds familiar. After Mark passed, I threw myself into the kids and the house. Easier than sitting still with the quiet. I’m glad you came by, John. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed talking like this.” He realized they were both lonely in the same shape of way, filling the gap with being busy instead of with people. After a moment she let the side of her hand rest against his. “It’s strange. I’ve known you since you were a kid, and now you’re sitting here in my kitchen, and it doesn’t feel strange at all. It just feels nice. With you it feels easier.” Her thumb brushed his hand. He moved closer. “I never thought of having a conversation so intimate with you either, but now it feels natural and nice.” Her breath caught. Her fingers curled more fully against his. “I’ve spent so long being careful. Careful with the kids, careful with what people might think, careful not to want things I shouldn’t.” The soft curve of her hip brushed the table near his leg. “Is this okay? Me being like this with you?” “It’s more than okay, Michelle.” He leaned toward her. She leaned in too, until the space between them felt warm and narrow. “It’s been five years of being the careful widow, the good mom, the reliable friend. Then you walk in with cake pans and I’m holding your hand like a teenager. I don’t know what I’m doing, John. But I don’t want to stop.” His heart was pounding. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’m not sure either, but this feels right for me, Michelle.” She froze for half a second. “Oh.” She did not pull away. “That felt right for me too.” She turned her face toward his. The space between their mouths went thin. Neither of them closed it yet. [TO BE CONTINUED]

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Arthemy Toons Illustrious

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