Louie

I ended up having a surprisingly good time on the field trip to the Museum of Science and History. The kids were excited but reasonably well behaved, and I was even able to lean over and sneak a quick kiss from Jessica while the lights were out in the planetarium.

“Louie!” she scolded, but even in the meager imitation starlight I could see her gleaming smile. She hadn’t minded that kiss one bit.

“Yuck.” This came from Bethany, who was sitting in her wheelchair in the handicapped space on the other side of Jessica. Looked like I might not have been as discreet as I’d thought. “Kissing’s gross,” the little girl said. “You can catch each other’s germs.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I like Miss Bellingham’s germs.”

This earned me another smile from Jessica and another “yuck” from Bethany.

Even the bumpy bus ride back to the school wasn’t all that bad. I sang along with the teachers and children, at least thirty verses of “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round,” followed by “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” sung at varying speeds and decibel levels. When the latter song wrapped up, I started in with, “A hundred bottles of beer on the wall,” but Jessica’s laugh and shaking head told me the song would be inappropriate for kindergarteners.

By the time the kids went home from school, I could tell Jessica was exhausted. Wrangling the children and the chaperones and keeping everyone on schedule had worn her out. As I walked her to her car in the staff parking lot, I said, “You look like you could use a glass of wine and some good food. Let me take you to an early dinner.”

She leaned over and put her head on my shoulder. “You always know the perfect thing to say.”

“Dinner?”

“Wine,” she said with a grin.

I suggested she choose the restaurant, and she picked an Italian place. We started with glasses of cabernet while we perused the menus.

When the waiter arrived at our table, Jessica handed him her menu. “I’ll have the lasagna, please.” I opted for the linguini. As the server left, she returned her attention to me. “I’ve been craving lasagna since we used it to lure Stinker that day. It looked delicious.”

“It is,” I said. “It was my family’s recipe, all the way from Italy.” Seeing an opportunity here, I seized it. “Are you free Saturday night?”

She smiled and gave me a nod. “Yes, I am.”

“Great! I’ll make lasagna at my place. We can watch a movie, too, or something.” It was the or something I was really hoping for. Jessica hadn’t let me into her apartment on our first date, which was understandable. But she hadn’t invited me in after we’d walked Stinker last night, either. I was ready to take things to the next level physically. “Bring your bathing suit,” I told her. “I’ve got a hot tub in the backyard.”

Was it my imagination, or had she just stiffened?

She picked up her wine and took a big gulp, as if steeling herself. “Okay,” she said softly, her eyes on her plate.

Her reaction concerned me. She seemed less than enthusiastic at the thought of being alone with me, reluctant even. What the hell? Had I been reading too much into things? Was she not as into me as I believed? She certainly smiled and laughed a lot when we were together. But was it more about the puppy than it was about me? Or was she simply unsure about where things were headed between the two of us? I’d been certain we were on track, that things were moving along nicely. But maybe I was wrong.

My worry was short-lived, thankfully. Jessica looked up, offered me a warm smile, and turned the subject to her class. “Thanks for helping Bethany today.”

The little girl had had some trouble reaching the higher buttons and knobs on the exhibits from her wheelchair. I’d lifted her up so that she could try them. I’d also helped her in and out of her wheelchair so that she could sit in the sand with the other children and dig for fossils in the outside area designed to replicate a paleontology dig.

“She’s your favorite, isn’t she?” I asked.

“Uh-oh.” Jessica cringed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s paying really close attention.” Like me. I could hardly take my eyes off Jessica today. My gaze had taken in every bounce of her curls, every turn of her head, and especially every time she bent over to speak with one of her students, her tight, perky behind in the air. But beyond the physical, I noticed how incredibly in tune she was with her students, despite having only taught these particular children for a few short weeks. She knew that Bethany would especially enjoy learning about astronomy in the planetarium. She knew that a couple of the boys would be intrigued by the exhibits featuring cowboy life on the cattle ranges. Another girl had a keen interest in dinosaurs and Jessica allowed her extra time at the display featuring dinosaurs that had once roamed Texas, including those that left their tracks in the mucky bottom of the nearby Paluxy River to be discovered by humans millions of years later. Yep, Jessica had clearly found her calling.

Though the restaurant’s food was not quite as good as my DeLuca family recipes, we enjoyed the meal, including the tiramisu we shared for dessert. But what I especially enjoyed was tasting Jessica when I kissed her at her door. She was sweeter than any dessert could ever be.

When I leaned into her this time, pressing her back against her door, she crooked her knee, just a little, just enough to let me know that she felt it, too, this undeniable need. Except that she was willing to deny herself the pleasures I could give her.

She broke off the kiss and put her hands on my chest, gently pushing me back. “I think we should call it a night.”

I nuzzled her neck. “Do we have to?”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

“So do I,” I said. “That’s not stopping me.”

She laughed softly but pushed me back more forcefully. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

Saturday can’t come soon enough.

* * *

Jessica and I texted over the next two days. I sent her more pictures of Stinker, including one of the pup in the bathtub with shampoo bubbles on her head. I’d had to bathe the dog after she’d rolled in something smelly and disgusting in the park.

Jessica had deemed that particular picture Absolutely adorable!

Finally, Saturday arrived. I had the day off and had brought Stinker home with me again from the station. She ran around the house, getting herself into all kinds of trouble while I cleaned up. She chased the broom and vacuum cleaner, attacking them with a vengeance. She leapt into the air, trying in vain to grab the feather duster in her teeth as I dusted the furniture. She lay across my feet, chewing on my shoelaces as I made the lasagna and cleaned up the prep dishes.

I set the table as my mother had shown me, using the cloth napkins and lace placements she had bought me years ago for Christmas. When I’d unwrapped the box and scoffed at its contents, she’d said, “Someday you’ll want to impress a lady. Now you’ll be ready.” Looked like that time had come.

I added a flower arrangement I’d picked up earlier, as well as single taper candle in a brass candlestick. The effect was intimate and romantic. I’d waited long enough. So had Jessica. Tonight, I’m going to romance the pants off her. Or the bikini bottoms.

“Come on, girl,” I said, gesturing for Stinker to follow me. “Let’s get this party started.”

I loaded the puppy in my Jeep and we drove over to Jessica’s place to pick her up. She opened her door wearing a pair of sandals, nicely fitting jeans, and a blue bohemian blouse. She’d pulled her curls up again, exposing that long, soft neck of hers. Forget the lasagna. This woman looks good enough to eat! She had a striped tote bag over her shoulder and what I hoped would be a very skimpy bathing suit inside.

She bent down and ruffled Stinker’s ears. “Hey, there! How’s my little girl?”

The puppy wagged her tail in reply and Jessica gave her a kiss on the head, leaving a pink smooch mark behind.

I looked down at the two. “You greet Stinker first? I see where I rank. Thanks a lot.”

Jessica laughed and stood. “Coming in second to a puppy isn’t so bad.”

“Yes, it is,” I said, eyeing her mouth. “Now I have to kiss a woman with dog hair stuck in her lipstick.”

She laughed again as I reached out and plucked a white fur from her lip. Of course I wasn’t going to let a little dog hair stop me. I leaned in and gave Jessica a warm kiss, dog germs be damned.

We made our way out to my car and climbed in.

As we pulled up to my place a few minutes later, she gave the outside of my single-story brick house the once-over. “Nice,” she said. “I like the landscaping.”

“I can’t take much credit,” I told her. “All of the bushes and trees were already planted when I bought the place. But I’ve managed to keep them alive and trimmed.” That had to count for something, right?

We climbed out of the car to head inside. Jessica stopped on the porch, reached into her bag, and held up a bottle of wine in each hand. “I couldn’t decide between the Malbec and the Merlot, so I brought them both.”

I reached out and took the bottles from her. “One for me and one for you,” I teased.

“If I drank an entire bottle of wine I’d end up on the floor.”

Was it wrong of me to hope she’d end up on the floor anyway? Rolling around on the fluffy rug with me?

“Let’s drink the Malbec,” I suggested, giving her a sly smile. “We can play spin the bottle with the Merlot.”

She treated me to one of her sexy giggles.

We stepped inside and I led her to the kitchen, where I opened the bottle to let the wine breathe. “Want to take the grand tour?”

“Of course,” she replied.

Stinker trotted along with us as I led Jessica around my modest home. I showed her the two smaller bedrooms, one of which I used as a home office and the other as an exercise room. At the back was the master. My king-size bed sported a brand-new sheet and comforter set. The salesclerk had convinced me to buy sheets with a high thread count, insisting they were softer. Only the best for this girl. But while the sheets were soft, I’d bet Jessica’s body would feel even softer. I couldn’t wait to find out. I hoped my purchase hadn’t been overly optimistic.

After I poured us each a glass of wine, we returned to the living room to wait for the lasagna to finish baking. Jessica looked right at home on my couch, sitting sideways with her legs curled up under her. Stinker hopped up onto the couch and insinuated herself between us, flopping onto her back, wriggling around, and yapping insistently until she had both of us rubbing her belly.

Jessica looked adoringly down at the pup. “She knows what she wants, doesn’t she?”

“She sure does,” I agreed. I knew what I wanted, too. Jessica. The fact that she’d agreed to a stay-home date told me she just might want me, too. And what better way to convince her of that fact than to suggest that we attend a Broadway show together? After all, she said she loved live theater. “Something Rotten! is playing at Bass Hall next weekend. Why don’t we go?”

Her face broke into a big grin. “Let’s do! I’ve heard it’s hilarious.”

“Great. I’ll get us tickets for the Friday show.”

Bzzzzzz. The timer on the oven went off, letting me know the lasagna was done cooking. While it cooled on the table, I refilled our wine glasses, stuck the garlic bread in the already-warm oven, and pulled the salad out of the fridge.

Jessica stepped over to the pasta, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath of its delicious aroma. “Yum! You sure know to treat a lady.”

“You’ve got my mother to thank for that. She insisted me and Mario learn our way around the kitchen.” I lit the candle and turned off the other lights in the house. The bread was ready now, too, so I removed it from the oven, cut it into pieces, and placed it on the table as well.

We took our seats and served our plates. Stinker lay on the floor below us, tuckered out again. She seemed to have only two speeds, hyperdrive and stock-still.

After she finished her salad, Jessica took her first bite of my lasagna. She closed her eyes and moaned in bliss. My body responded, every cell on alert. My Lord, her moan is as powerful as her giggle.

She finished chewing and opened her eyes. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted! You have to give me your recipe.”

“Can’t.” I took a drink of my wine and gave her a mischievous smile. “The family recipe is a secret. If I gave it to you my mother would beat me to death with her big wooden spoon.” But there might be ways you could get it out of me, regardless.

As we ate, Jessica asked more about my family. “Did your parents come here alone or did other family come with them?”

“They came alone initially,” I told her, “but my grandparents came later. Mario and I spent a lot of time at my nonno and nonna’s house.”

At least we did until I burned it down.

The tragic event was another family secret. I’d been only nine years old at the time, at the beginning of my long Meatball phase. No matter how much I ate, I always felt hungry, my appetite insatiable. My grandmother had admonished me not to touch the stove until she returned from taking a pot of minestrone to a sick neighbor down the street. But I’d disobeyed her. I thought I could quickly fry up a couple of Italian sausages and eat the evidence before she returned. Never mind that I hadn’t yet been taught how to cook. I figured I’d seen her do it enough times to get it right.

I’d managed to get the gas stove turned on and the sausages in the pan, but I had the heat turned up too high and the grease started to splatter. I first tried to grab the cast-iron pan with my hand, but the handle was hot and I dropped it back on the stove, splattering more grease. I grabbed a dish towel to try to wipe up the grease, but the towel brushed against the flame. The next thing I knew I was holding a burning towel. If I’d tossed it into the sink, the event would have been over. But in my panic my mind wasn’t working. I’d reflexively thrown the towel to the ground, where the fire spread to the braided rug Nonna’s own grandmother had made before she’d passed away a decade before.

I’d hollered to Mario, who’d run to the kitchen. “We have to go get Nonna!” he’d cried when he saw the fire.

We dashed out of the house and ran outside. But we weren’t sure which house our grandmother had gone to. We wasted precious time knocking on the wrong doors. By the time we found Nonna, the entire house was up in flames. That’s when I learned one of the first things about fires. If left untreated, a fire will double in size every minute.

It doesn’t take long for things to burn out of control.