Krystal’s Pov

“A.J. that meal was simply incredible. Thank you so much for preparing it for me,” I told her placing down my fork and sliding my hand on top of hers, which was resting on the table.

“I’m so glad you found it to be enjoyable.”

“It was so much more than that, because you made it with you hands. You planned all of this for me.”

“May I….uh…” she began leaning closer.

“You don’t have to ask,” I responded leaning in to meet her waiting lips.

She kissed me slowly twice before sighing.

“You just look so lovely,” she said softly.

“Thank you.”

“Finally, you accept a compliment,” she grinned taking my hand from the table up to for a kiss. “Can I offer you some coffee or dessert?” she asked.

“You aren’t my waiter A.J. Let me clean these dishes,” I said standing up.

“Krystal…no,” she said surprised placing her hand on my dinner plate that I was holding.

“A.J. this was perfect, truly. But I don’t want you to have to do everything for me. Let me thank you by doing this simple thing,” I said placing my hand on top of hers so she would release the plate.

Once she let go, I walked past her into the kitchen. I placed the plate down in the sink. She walked into the kitchen a moment later with my glass, the bread bowl and the utensils I had used. She placed them on the counter next to the sink. I reached for the dish soap, and placed a hand on the faucet.

“Wait,” A.J. said touching my shoulder.

“You are not going to sweet talk me out of doing this. So don’t even try.”

“It’s not that,” she said walking over to the pantry door.

She opened it and I didn’t see one item of food to be found in there. But on the back of the door hung an apron. She grabbed it, closed the door and came back over to me. It was a beautiful vintage looking blue apron.

“Would you like to use this?” she asked holding it up.

“Sure,” I answered as she slipped it over my head and pulled my hair through.

“Yuri actually gave this to our mother maybe fifteen years ago for Mother’s Day. It’s a little bit of an inside joke,” A.J. explained tying it behind my back.

“Because you don’t actually cook.”

“That’s right. Yuri has a particular sense of humor,” she responded as I the water, and began to wash the dirty plate.

“Why don’t you go to the living room, and relax. This will only take a few minutes.”

“As you wish,” she said smiling.

I watched her until she disappeared from the room. Then I refocused on the task at hand. A few minutes later when I was finishing up washing my utensils I heard music start to play from the living room. Once I turned the water off I could make out that it was a slow song maybe from around the 1950s. Out of curiosity I put down the hand towel and walked towards the other room with my apron still on. I found her leaning against the wall next to a record player. She had her eyes closed, until my foot crossed the threshold of the of the living room.

“I hope it is alright I put on a record?”

“Of course. I just feel like I’m in a bit of a time warp,” I said gesturing to the apron I wa