Chapter Twenty-One
Curtis
Lately, I had been waking up in so many strange places. When I first opened my eyes, it took me a minute to register that I was lying on Allie’s bed in the tiny house and that Allie was lying next to me. Carefully, so as not to wake her, I unwrapped my arms from around her and reached for my boots and blue jeans.
It occurred to me as I was feeding the puppy that Mama might look out the back window and see us leaving the house together. I was still debating whether I should run home before breakfast so she wouldn’t know we had spent the night together when Allie stirred and rose slowly out of bed.
“Thanks for doin’ that,” she said wearily. “Would you mind feeding the cats while you’re at it? I’d imagine it’s about time to head over to your mom’s for breakfast.”
“I was just thinking,” I said as I reached under the desk for the cats’ bowls. “You’ve had Mama’s cooking, but you ain’t ever had mine.”
Allie stared in disbelief, a hand over her mouth. “You mean to tell me you can cook, and you never told me? All this time you’ve been holding out on me?”
I shrugged apologetically. “I lived alone when me and Christine first started dating. I’d been living off ramen noodles and pita bread eaten with tuna fish out of the can, not because I couldn’t afford to eat better but because nobody had ever taught me how. I’d go to the store and have no idea what to buy. Occasionally I’d get somethin’ that looked good, somethin’ that I remembered Mama makin’, and have no idea how to make it.”
“Why didn’t you ask your mom?” asked Allie.
“Mama and I weren’t on the best of terms at the time. She wasn’t happy about the fact that I’d spent my tuition money on a motorcycle. It wasn’t until Christine came into my life that we got all that straightened out.”
“And Christine taught you how to cook?”
“No, I taught myself. Mostly by reading recipe books and watching cooking shows on TV. There’s no way she was gonna know I’d been living on pancakes for the past, I don’t know, eight months. First time she came over, I made her honey garlic shrimp with pasta salad. And it was terrible! Practically uneatable. She could tell I had worked really hard on it, and also that I had never cooked in my life. We ended up in the Dairy Queen parking lot eating blizzards and hamburgers.”
“Ooo! That actually sounds really good right now,” said Allie.
“Well, that’s not what we’re having for breakfast,” I said.
“What are you making?” She batted those long lashes at me. “Can you not tell me? Is it a secret?”
“You could call it that.” I rose from the chair and let out a loud yawn. “I’m gonna head out and start gettin’ it ready. I’ll text you when I’m ready for you to come over.”
***
By the time Allie showed up at the house about an hour later, breakfast was ready and on the table. I had made us Spanish-style omelets with potatoes, parsley, cilantro, peas, and sautéed onions, with greasy hash browns and sausage patties on the side.
Allie’s eyes widened in astonishment when she walked into the kitchen and saw the plates laid out. “This looks incredible,” she said. “How did you manage to cook such a perfect omelet?”
“Ten years of practice and a thousand bad omelets.” I handed her an empty glass. “What would you like to drink? We’ve got orange juice, grapefruit juice, pineapple juice, pink lemonade from concentrate, Dr. Thunder, and a couple cans of Fresca.”
“I don’t even know what half those drinks are, so I think I’ll just have orange juice.”
I opened the fridge and pulled out the orange juice container. “What’ve you got going on today?”
“I’m still off work,” Allie said, “so my schedule is pretty much open. After breakfast, I think I might go back to my room and finish reading Goblet of Fire.”
“Haven’t you already read it a bunch of times?”
“Yeah, but I don’t really read things to find out what happens. I like books that create a world I can get lost in for hours at a time. It’s funny because I thought I would enjoy having the week off, and while I loved going camping, I almost miss going to work. If Dave were in town, I don’t think I’d have given myself such a long holiday.”
I handed her the orange juice and took the seat across from her. “Haven’t you always loved work, though? I guess it doesn’t surprise me that you’d be itching to get back.”
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” said Allie. “As weird as it sounds, I sort of wish I had more to do. I got into this business because I wanted to help animals, and taking the job as Dave’s assistant seemed like the perfect opportunity to do that. But we get maybe one customer a day, and the rest of the time I’m either sitting at my computer playing free cell or reading one of the books in the back office.”
“You must really love animals, then.”
Allie’s eyes blazed. “I love them. That’s why I wanted to become a veterinarian. The best part of my day is when somebody brings in a goat or a turtle or a tame fox.”
“I’ve seen the way you bond with animals,” I said as I cut up my sausage. “Like, the second you see them, your eyes light up, and the rest of the world just fades away. And it’s weird, but I sometimes get the feeling they understand and respect that.”
“Some of ‘em do,” said Allie. “There’ve been times when a customer couldn’t get a horse to budge from the back of a truck, so they call me out and I’ll say a few words, and the horse comes right out. I think it’s because I’m an INFP.”
“What’s that? A horse whisperer?”
“INFP? It’s one of the sixteen basic personality types. Even though we’re introverts, we’re very sociable and friendly, and we form special bonds with kids and animals. Our friends tend to describe us as fun to be around but a bit overwhelming.”
“I’d say that about sums you up.”
Allie nodded proudly. “Anyway, what’ve you got going on today? I can’t imagine you going out riding again in this weather.”
“I won’t, if I can avoid it.” I set down my fork. “After dinner tonight, me and Zach was thinking about heading out to Fifth Street and maybe going dancing at one of the local bars. You wanna join us?”
“Shoot! I’d love to, but me and Lindsay were planning on going out dancing tonight.”
“Well, why don’t you bring her along? We could have a double date.”
Allie looked skeptical. “Who, me and you and Zach and Lindsay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, text her and see if she wants to come. I don’t know if you’ve ever line-danced, but that’s where we’ll be going. If you have an hour or two this afternoon, I can come over there and teach you the Boot-Scootin’ Boogie.”
Allie nearly spit out her drink. “I’m sorry, what in the hell is the Boot-Scootin’ Boogie?”
I gaped at her. “Only the greatest country line dance, probably ever. You’ve never heard that ol’ Brooks & Dunn song? ‘Heel, toe, do-si-do, come on baby, let’s go, boot scoot!’”
“Are you speaking English? Also, does everyone in Texas do this?”
“Just about. When you get your Texas driver’s license, they make you do it at the DMV. It’s part of the exam.”
“Wow, okay.”
I pulled up the official Brooks & Dunn music video on my phone and played her the first minute or so. Brooks & Dunn were singing onstage at a bar in Oklahoma while a hundred couples twirled and swayed and kicked their boots on the floor below. Allie did not look impressed.
“I have never felt like more of a stranger in my own country,” she said.
“Well, this ain’t America,” I said. “This is Texas.”
“Right. How could I forget?”
“Anyway, we’ll be scootin’ our boots tonight down at the Palladium on the Corner of Fifth and Brookner. Bring your ripped jeans and cowboy hat. If you don’t have a cowboy hat, I will provide you one. You and I are going to have the time of our lives!”
“Mmm, I can’t wait,” said Allie in a tone of the deepest sarcasm, and went on eating her hash browns.