#wallei

Perching her head on interlaced fingers, Lei watched Wally line his knife across the top of his sandwich.

He kept making microscopic adjustments to the blade, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth from the effort. One millimeter left, two right. Finally after a few more rounds of the kitchen hokey-pokey, Lei said, “Oh my God, Wally. Cut it.”

“Almooost…” Wally kept his eyes still fixed on his sandwich, but didn’t move any faster than he had been.

Lei gestured vaguely at the set up strewn over the kitchen counter– half a fridge’s worth of ingredients she was pretty sure weren’t meant to be together. “You could’ve been done ages ago.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Wally said, finally sawing through the first layer of his triple decker. “And I happen to like the process.”

“Well.” Lei snipped without any real fire, “Like the process faster.”

He laughed and sucked a bit of mustard off his thumb, his sandwich now cut perfectly down the middle. “There’s merit in taking things slow, y’know, have a little respect for the art.”

“It’s three meats on rye.”

“It’s the human experience.” Wally said with a gleam in his eye.

“Oh-kay.” She flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder, but she didn’t hide the lacing laughter in her tone.

“Our ancestors have been stacking stuff between baked pieces of grain since the dawn of civilization.” He said, tapping the counter in emphasis, “Every sandwich is our connection to our forebearers. Our history. Our…”

Wally looked out somewhere beyond Lei’s head, but judging by his faltering expression he’d exhausted his muse.

“Essence of life.” Lei suggested.

“Essence of life.” Wally agreed as he wrapped a half of his sandwich in a plastic sheet– taking care of folding it neatly– before handing it to her.

“I’m out of gold leaf.” He said when she hesitated, “Sorry, Miss I’ve-Got-A-Personal-

Michelin-Star-Chef.”

Lei rolled her eyes and snatched it from his hand, spinning the seat of her chair as to turn her back on him. She shot a smile over her shoulder, “It’s two personal Michelin chefs and their respective crews, thank you.”

“Oh, gee. My bad.” He said around a mouthful.

Lei studied her half of the sandwich. It didn’t look half-bad. Sandwiches weren't her go-to food the way it was for Wally– who swore up and down were acceptable for all three meals of the day– but she’d been forced to miss lunch earlier.

That was the excuse she gave herself when she took a sniff, quickly followed by a bite. She hummed appreciatively, turning back around to face Wally.

“I’ll eat it if you don’t want it.” He said, reaching out for it, only for his response to be a swift slap of his hand. “Ow?” Wally clamped his sandwich between his teeth, rubbing at the sting.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Lei said quickly, making sure she took another extra big bite. She was hungrier than she thought she’d been and she didn’t like how Wally thought she was too good for ‘normal’ food.

He was right, of course, but she didn’t like him thinking she wouldn’t take something he gave her.

And, honestly, it wasn’t a bad sandwich. A little heavy-handed on the mustard and she wasn’t a fan of the brown flecks on the lettuce. Cheddar wasn’t her favorite cheese. But all in all, she could almost say she liked it.

“Alright, West.” She said, “Maybe you have something there.”

He snorted. By some miracle —likely because he still hadn’t found a way to safely dislocate his jaw— Wally hadn’t stuffed his half into his mouth. “Jimmy John’s would go to war with Subway for me.”

“I meant your little ‘human connection’ thing.” Lei peeled away more of the plastic from her sandwich, surprised she’d already eaten half way through it. “I can’t remember the last time someone made a sandwich for me for the sake of it. It’s nice.”

Wally swallowed with a little more effort than Lei was comfortable with. He lifted up his remaining bite in the air, it took Lei a minute to realize he was proposing a toast, “May our bread be the foundation of a greater We…Bologna, an extension of our heartstrings…and the weird, kinda green thing that was chillin’ in the back of the pantry our bond that lives through time.”

Lei closed her eyes, choosing to ignore that little tidbit. She lifted her own remaining piece of dinner. It wasn’t much smaller than Wally’s. “Hallelu.”

They tapped their bites and ate.

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