Chapter 8 – Keep Your Legs Together and Your Mind on Jesus
“I love this one. Mr. Franks was a hottie in his Marine uniform. And your hair? You look like you walked off the Casablanca movie set. You’re still beautiful, but you were one classy chick in your younger years.”
“Oh, you go on,” Rosa grins as we flip through old photo albums of her and Mr. Franks back in the day. And by back in the day, I mean the days of black and white photos, fancy set hair, tailored women’s suits with the little peplum on the jacket and men back from war looking nothing short of debonair in their uniforms.
I met Rosa Franks a few months back at my cousin’s house and we’ve been friends ever since. My new sister-in-law, Leigh, and I both took to her like glue. Since then, we’ve brought her into the Carpino fold. Not that she doesn’t have her own fold, she does with all her kids, grandkids and great-grandkids. But one can’t have too many folds and you’d think she was born a Carpino with her opinionated, bossy manner. I lost my grandma a few years back to cancer and we were really close. Befriending Rosa has not only been sentimental for me, she’s become a part of my life I hold dear. She’s hilarious, sweet and she enjoys laying life lessons on me every moment she can. I’ve tucked some of these lessons close to my heart, cherishing them. But others make me frown and wonder about her sanity at the ripe old age of eighty-five, even if she is as quick as a whip upstairs.
I spend time every Friday with Rosa, and usually pop in another day or two, as well. Since I’m always cooking and experimenting for my blog, there’s always extra food and I usually drop dinner off during my pop-in’s. She loves my experiments (for the most part I’m spot on, though I’ve had a couple doozies that have gone straight to the trash). Since she lives by herself, it saves her from having to cook for one.
“Can I play on your phone?” Cara asks from across the table with a chocolate covered face and sticky fingers. We just finished eating fudgesicles, Cara and Cayden are covered in sticky chocolate. Jordy and Noah are huddled playing a game on Jordy’s phone and managed to eat theirs without the mess.
“Let me clean you up first,” I say as I move to Rosa’s kitchen for a wet towel.
“I’ve got boxes of toys in the hall closet for my grandkids. Go get ‘em and have some fun. Kids and cellular phones these days. You need to play with toys like normal children and let your brains talk to your fingers, telling them to do something besides push buttons on a screen. You need to build somethin’ and pretend somethin’. I have three kids and they’re all smart. Two of ‘em are engineers and it’s all because they built things with their toys,” Rosa lays out a life lesson thick for the kids.
I grin at all four who are gazing big eyed at her, not knowing what to do or say. I make it to the little ones and mop up their faces, “A couple more minutes on the phones, then you can hit the toys. Sound fair?”
They give me little nods as I slide my phone to Cara and Noah. They look like they’ve turned on the camera and have started clicking pictures of each other and everything else in sight.
“How did you and Mr. Franks meet?” I ask, reclaiming my seat and flipping through the pages of faded black and white photos.
“Leo was an officer, he’d done his time in Germany and the war was over. He decided to stay in, make it a career and was back in the states for the time being. He got himself a desk job. You see, Leo, he was four years older than me. I had just graduated high school the year before and got a job as a secretary. I was really good at typing, fastest in my class and scored well on the interview tests. Anyway, I was a secretary in the same military office Leo was in,” she explained.
“You were his secretary and had an office romance? No wonder you like your trashy books,” I tease her grinning, giving her my big eyes.
“Now you stop it, child,” she rebukes with a frown. “I didn’t work for him. I was a secretary for his boss’s boss, but we worked in the same office. And I did not like Leo Franks. He was back from war, and oh my stars, was he cocky, even if he was handsome. He thought he was all that and a bag o’ chips. Well, I’ll let you know, I didn’t even think he was a package o’ stale crackers.”
“What changed your mind?”
At this point, the kids had put down all devices and were listening to Rosa. She notices this too and looks straight at them, “This one day in the middle of winter, I was leaving work. It was already dark and I was walking to my car. I could hear some rustling noise from the side and a scary looking man started walking straight to me.”
“Oh no,” I say and look over at the kids, hoping Rosa’s story won’t scare them. They are all big eyed, listening with rapt attention.
“Oh yes,” Rosa says to me and gives me the eyes that communicate way more than words. I raise my eyebrows in question and she answers me by giving me a little sideways shake of her head. I know whatever happened, or almost happened, was not good.
“Oh no,” I repeat, but in a hush this time.
“Yes child,” she confirms. Then she looks back to the kids, “Well, that man scared the daylights outta me. But then, one second I was alone with the scary man and the next, my Leo showed up and took care o’ him. Laid him to waste, he did. When he was done and got back to me, he put his arm around my shoulders, pulled me to him and said, ‘You left without me, honey bun. How many times do I have to tell you not to leave by yourself?’ I had no idea what he was talking about since I’d never given him the time of day, but needless to say, I didn’t care because I was shaking like a lamb on butcher day.”
I grin and the kids giggle.
“Leo could see it scared the dickens outta me, so he took me straight to his Ford. Since I was still shakin’ in my knickers, I let him. He drove me to this little restaurant, and without sayin’ a word, sat us at a table for two. Faster than you could say hot-diggity-dog, he ordered me a cuppa coffee, a dry martini, a snifter of brandy and a glass of wine. He told me to drink what would make me feel better. I drank the martini and the wine, he drank the brandy and we let the coffee go cold. Then he ordered us both two huge plates of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and buttered beans. We sat in that little restaurant for three hours and I never felt safer. That was my first day with Leo and from there on out, he was in my life every day until he died. He was still cocky, but he was mine,” she finished her story with a satisfied look on her face, even looking a bit cocky herself. I can tell she’s told that story many times before and loves telling it. And I love that she has that story to tell.
“That’s the sweetest story, even if it is a little creepy,” I smile.
Her smug look turns bossy when she says pointedly, “Don’t ever be one of those modern women who thinks she doesn’t need a good man at her back, you hear me? You find yourself one who’s willing to protect and keep you, you take care of him. Trust me child, it doesn’t matter what size, shape or form they come in, you give a good man your love and care, he’ll lay waste to the world to keep you by his side.”
I smile, “Okay.”
“Modern women,” she rolls her eyes. Then she turns to me with furrowed brows, “You promise me you won’t ever be one of them. When will they learn, they can have their jobs and power and whatever else they hold dear, without missing out on the good stuff. Stupid, is what they are.”
I try to keep from laughing, “I promise.”
“What’s knickers?” Cara asks quietly.
“Panties,” Rosa responds quick-like.
“Ew!” the boys all groan.
I hear my phone ding and Cara slides it to me giggling as I bite my lip to keep from laughing. The boys scatter, probably afraid we’ll start talking about panties.
“Who’s that?” Rosa asks while trying to peek over at my phone.
I look down and see a text from Cam. I can’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation, even though he’s probably just texting about the kids since I’m his babysitter this week. But I can’t help but hope it’s not about being his babysitter.
Cam: Going to be late. Be ready at 6. Taking you and the kids for a burger.
I frown at my phone for many reasons. One, I have dinner going in the crockpot. I’ve been messing around with Carnita Tacos for a while, but I think tonight’s my night. They should be perfect and I’ll have pictures to take. Two, I know I’ve spent the last two evenings with Cam Montgomery—the last one ending in a hot clinch with Cam kissing me crazy with his hand on my ass. But this is dinner out. Even though he’s had his hand on my ass, dinner out is much different than sharing a meal because I had enough food to share. Three, he didn’t ask. I could have plans, even though I’m babysitting this week and there’s no way I could have plans. But still, he could’ve asked. And four, it’s worth mentioning twice, he’s had his hand on my ass. Dinner out with someone who’s groped you during an out-of-this-universe-kiss is different than it is with someone who’s never touched your ass.
“It’s Cam. Jordy and Cara’s dad. He wants to get a burger tonight,” I answer and bite my lip, wondering how I should handle this.
“The one with the nasty ex?” she asks.
I told her a little about Cam when I called this morning to make sure it was okay to bring the kids. She thought it was a hoot hearing about Bekki with an i, but I did not share about how Cam makes me fidget and I absolutely did not share about the kiss or the grope.
“Yeah, the one and only,” I mutter as I put my thumbs to the screen of my phone and decide how to respond.
Me: But, I already have dinner going in the crockpot. Carnita Tacos. It’s my third go at creating this recipe. I can’t leave it.
Cam: Eat it tomorrow. Be ready at 6.
“I can’t believe how fast you youngun’s can type. Are you gonna go?” she keeps butting in.
“I have dinner going at Sophia’s,” I explain looking up, wondering why I’m making excuses. But seriously, it would’ve been nice to be asked. Even though I am who I am, he still makes me a teensy bit nervous.
“Eat it tomorrow,” Rosa eerily repeats Cam’s text.
I frown before looking back down at my phone to respond at the same time I say to Rosa, “I have to take pictures for the blog. That takes time.”
Me: I have to blog it. That requires prep and pics. It takes time to pretty up the food.
“Paige Carpino, are you sweet on him?” I hear and look up to see my eighty-five year old friend glaring at me with raised brows and big questioning eyes.
“Of course not,” I snap and look back to my phone, waiting for a response.
“You are. You’re sweet on that man with the nasty ex-wife,” she declares.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Stop it, Rosa.”
Ding goes my phone.
Cam: I’m in the middle of batting practice and don’t have time for this. Do your shit with the pictures. Put it away. Eat it tomorrow. We’re leaving at 6.
“What’d he say?” she asks, reaching for my phone.
Quicker than she looks, she grabs my phone and reads my text. Giving me her eyes, she states matter-of-factly, “Looks like you’re goin’ for burgers.”
I snatch my phone back and let my thumbs fly.
Me: It would have been nice to be asked, so I’m going to pretend you asked. Why yes, thank you, Campbell Montgomery, for the dinner invitation. A burger sounds delicious. However, I have five of us to prepare for dinner out. I hope I can be done with my work and have everyone ready by 6. But because you asked so sweetly, I’ll do my best to be ready on time.
I look up at Rosa, “I guess I’m going for burgers. But this means we need to leave sooner than I planned because I need to get pictures taken before we go. And I need to get ready. And my toenail polish is chipped, I need to repaint.”
She smiles with a satisfied look on her face, “It’s okay, child. You go and have fun. I want to hear more about this fellow. I’d better get a phone call soon. Do not text me, I want to be able to ask quick questions. I’m too old to text back and forth.”
My phone dings again.
Cam: Are you shitting me?
I grin.
Me: I can tell you’re in a Grumpy Bear mood. No Dr. Pepper for you.
Cam: Fuck me. 6 sharp.
I can’t help it, I have to laugh at him.
“Kids, put the toys away. We’ve gotta go,” I yell. I look at Rosa as I toss my phone into my purse, “Sorry we’re cutting our time short. Can I help you put these albums away?”
“No, you go and get your stuff done. I’ll see you Monday night. Leigh and Tony are picking me up for Tony’s birthday party at your parents’ house,” she says, getting up slowly and moving even slower toward the door.
“I’m glad you’re coming. It’ll be fun.”
The kids made quick work cleaning up the toys. They gathered their stuff and we head out like a pack of dogs after giving Rosa hugs goodbye.
“Call me,” she bosses with a meaningful look on her face.
“I said I’d call you,” I throw some attitude right back at her.
“Don’t sass the elderly, Paige Carpino,” she says, leaning out the door. “Call me!”
“I will, I will,” I toss over my shoulder as we make our way to the minivan.
Then, yelling for all the children to hear, not to mention the neighbors, she loudly lays another life lesson on me, “Keep your legs together and your mind on Jesus!”
I freeze and gasp before I have the mind to turn around. I feel my mouth drop and my eyes go big.
“Rosa!” I yell back.
“What did she say?” Noah asks.
“You heard what I said,” Rosa yells back.
“Seriously?” I belt back.
“Trust me, you won’t go wrong,” she keeps on loudly from the door.
I can’t believe her. This is what I get for not having enough girlfriends my own age. Wouldn’t a good girlfriend tell me to go out and get me some for a change? Go for the gold but make him work for it? Shave your legs and trim up everything else? I need girlfriends who’ll give me a kick in the ass, push me out the door and tell me to have a good romp, insisting I call them with details in the morning. Those are the kinds of friends I need. Not ones guilting me into thinking about Jesus when I can’t get my mind off Cam. Although, I really don’t know why I’m pondering all this. I’m basically going on a non-date for burgers with four kids who’re seven and under. Even if it is with Cam Montgomery, it doesn’t matter how many ways he makes me fidget, nothing can happen with four kids in tow.
“What did she say about Jesus?” Noah asks again.
“Nothing,” I frown and snap. “She’s just reminding us to keep our minds on Jesus, be thankful in prayer, blah-blah-blah, stuff like that. Now get in and buckle up.”
I shut the door on their heels and give Rosa one more nasty glare before leaving. She smiles big waving before putting her thumb to her ear and pinky to her mouth, making a telephone gesture, bossing me in pretend sign language to call her. I frown one more time before pulling the minivan out of her driveway.
I’ve got shit to do and food to pretty up. Maybe I’ll just pretend I have friends counselling me to shave and trim. I have no idea how all this will happen before six o’clock. Cam will just have to deal with it.
*****
“Dad, I’m hungry. When’re we gonna go?”
I look at my son and wonder the same thing.
“Yeah, we’re starving,” Noah agrees.
“Soon, guys,” I mutter as I move off the sofa where I’ve been waiting for the past thirty minutes to leave for dinner. I’m starving too, and it doesn’t help the house smells like I’m on vacation in Cabo. I’m an idiot for not saying we should eat her tacos instead of going out. I mutter to the boys as I pass them, “Grab an apple.”
They look put-out, grumbling as they make their way to the kitchen and I move the opposite direction where I saw Cara run to find Paige twenty minutes ago. Making my way down the hall of Lanny’s house where I’ve never been before, I hear Paige’s voice come through a half closed door. I stop and look in, seeing my daughter sitting on the counter with her legs pulled up with her feet to the edge. She’s got her arms wrapped around her bent legs as she peeks over her knees watching Paige, who’s bent at the waist swiping pink on her little toes.
“It’s the trick to a last minute paint job in the summer, sweet girl. You’ve got to put your flip-flops on first and then give your toes a quick paint. You don’t want to mess them up by having to put your shoes on after. Then you can flip-flop on your merry way as they dry,” Paige explains, not taking her eyes off my girl’s feet.
“They’re pretty,” Cara’s little voice utters quietly.
“A pretty girl needs pretty toes,” Paige smiles and then stands as she twists the paint closed to look at Cara. “Done. Be careful, you don’t want a smudge.”
I move in and push the door all the way open with my shoulder, letting it bump against the wall. I can’t help it, I let my eyes drag over Paige. She’s got her hair down, falling to the middle of her back in smooth waves and flips. The long section in front is loosely tucked behind her ear, framing her face, making her eyes deeper and darker than normal. She’s got a little bit of makeup on today, but she’s still not made up like a woman who’s trying hard to be something she’ll never be. If I hadn’t seen her every day this week and knew how gorgeous she was naturally, I’d never know the difference. Even the way she’s made herself up, she barely looks older than she really is.
She’s wearing a little black top that’s only held up with thin straps rounding her neck, showing off plenty of her bare olive skin. It hangs slack, hitting her above her ass where she’s wearing another pair of skin tight pants. These are khaki with pockets, ties and shiny shit here and there. Standing there grinning up at me, she’s taller than normal because of the chunky sandals on her feet and I can see from here, her toes match my daughter’s.
“Look daddy. Paige painted my toes pink,” Cara declares, pulling my attention away from Paige.
I move in and smile at my girl who looks like nothing could ever make her happier than pink toes. I scoop her up under her arms to set her down so we can get going, “I see that, punkin’ pie. Scoot out and find the boys, we’ve gotta get goin’. Everyone’s hungry.”
Cara nods and moves around me in the small bathroom, picking her feet up high in her little purple shoes, probably so she doesn’t ruin her toes.
I turn to Paige, put a hand to her belly pushing her in until her ass hits the counter and kick the door shut. Letting my hand round her waist, I dip under her top to feel her bare skin as she tips her head back.
“You’re late,” I say pressing my body into hers feeling her against me, something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind since last night.
“I know,” she smiles big, not apologizing.
“Are you late a lot?” I ask bringing my other hand up, pushing her hair away from her face before letting my fingers sink in, feeling how heavy and soft it is.
“Does it matter?” she asks as I feel her hands come to my chest.
“I haven’t decided,” I say pressing into her, making her face go soft.
“Well, you’re always grumpy over text so we’re even.”
“Texting is for quick communication, not heart-to-hearts. Making us wait thirty minutes to eat doesn’t make us even,” I mutter, but can’t wait another second.
I lean down while pulling her up to taste her, something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since last night. Delving my tongue in her mouth, I feel her fist the front of my shirt. Having her cling to me, like she’s hanging on for the ride she’s letting me give her, is like nothing I’ve had before. She pushes closer so I deepen the kiss and drag my hand up higher on the bare skin of her back, holding her tight.
I finally pull away to see her eyes heavy with her lips parted.
“Are we even now?” she asks and I can feel her breath on my face.
I look down giving her a squeeze and only slightly tease, “Not even close, baby. I’m gonna need way more of you than this if you’re gonna make me wait to eat.” I lean in close again and kiss her quick before adding, “Much more, Paige.”
“Oh,” she rasps, her deep brown eyes widen and I can’t help but grin at her reaction.
“Let’s go,” I say and reach to open the door before putting a hand at her back, nudging her out of the bathroom. “The kids are going to waste away to nothing.”
She throws her hair over her shoulder as she turns to grin before sauntering down the hall in her chunky sandals. I grin because now I get to enjoy her from behind with her shoulders and upper back bare, her ass swaying in her tight pants.
When we hit the kitchen, Paige goes to her bag and I call to the kids, “Load up. The women are finally ready.”
The boys scatter and Cara is still walking awkwardly, trying to protect her toes. Before Paige walks out the door ahead of me I grab her hand, pulling her to a stop. She looks up and frowns in question.
I pull her close and lean to say in a low voice, “Thanks for spending time with Cara.”
“Of course,” she says softly for only me to hear. “Your kids are sweet, why wouldn’t I want to spend time with them?”
I tip my head and don’t know if I’m saying it to her or myself, “I guess that’s just you.”
“What’s me?” she asks, her brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” I say shaking my head. “That still doesn’t make us even, darlin’. You owe me and I’m taking that all for myself.”
This time she rolls her eyes and pulls away, “I’m hungry, Cam. I don’t want to have Grumpy Bear Syndrome too, we need to get a move on. I’m not the only one making us late.”
She drops my hand and I see her strut to the passenger door of my Expedition where the kids are loaded and ready. I smile to myself looking forward to payback, Paige Carpino style. And I’ll make sure she enjoys it every bit as much as me.