by Bird, Peggy
“Mlock it,” she requested. He wordlessly and deftly pushed the knob to the locked position.
Seconds later there was a knock at the door. The couple ignored it.
Bam! Bam!
“Go ’way!” JJ instructed. She heard a voice on the other side.
“We just wanted to give you some copies of today’s Daily Digit.” It was Alex. “We’ll just leave them here at the door. Talk to you later.”
“What did she say?” It was Blake’s voice.
“She told us to go away.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Kenn released his grip on JJ.
“What a glorious epiphany you experienced, Professor St. Clair. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
JJ sighed. “I’m not sure where this is ultimately headed. And I’m not sure how far I’m capable of going. And I’m definitely not very confident how fast I can go there,” she said.
He struggled not to laugh, but she could tell by the creases around his eyes that he was totally amused. “What’s so funny?”
“You. You don’t know where you’re going or how fast you can get there … wherever it is you might be going.”
“Despite my confusion, Professor Cooper, I’d really love it if you would go with me anyway. It might turn out to be an interesting trip. Right now, though, we need to head for the classroom.”
• • •
JJ unlocked the back door and walked through the kitchen, casually dropping her purse and briefcase on the table along the way.
She padded into the living room, dropped down on the loveseat, and kicked off her shoes. And she waited. She knew she wouldn’t have to wait long.
Alex and Blake entered quietly, speaking to each other in whispers. She figured they knew what was in store for them when they got home. It sounded as if the pair tiptoed through the kitchen and were attempting to glide through to the bedroom without being detected.
“Wait one minute,” JJ said. The pair froze at the entrance of the hallway between the kitchen and the dining room. Blake stopped in mid-stride, one leg in the air.
“Aren’t you going to stop to talk?”
“Lots of homework tonight,” Alex offered.
“Got to work on that essay for your class,” Blake said, still balancing on one leg. “Then I must plan the next spontaneous event for The Physics Café. Busy. Busy. Busy.” He began to sway some, but appeared determined to keep his frozen position.
“You have time for this,” JJ said, rising to her feet. She hoped standing helped her look more authoritative despite her diminutive stature. “Did you two have a hand in orchestrating the intensely personal front page of the Daily Digit?”
Blake nervously attempted to run a hand through his hair, and stared down at his shoes like a little boy caught filching cookies from the cookie jar. Alex shuffled her backpack from one shoulder to the other. Neither character said a word; neither looked JJ in the face.
“I thought so. Please don’t ever do that again,” she said, sitting back down.
Blake’s gaze immediately shot up, “No lecture?”
Alex walked back into the living room and dropped her backpack on the chair. She glanced at JJ sideways, as if perhaps the worst was still to come. “No reminder of how we’re meddling in your personal affairs?”
“Not this time.”
The couple relaxed; faint smiles crept over their faces. Blake dropped his leg and entered the living room. He sat on the edge of the couch. Alex dropped next to him, placing her hand on his thigh. His face brightened.
“This doesn’t mean I’m not furious,” JJ said. “I was totally embarrassed. But, I’m not going to dwell on it any longer.”
Blake stood up to go. “I just have one question.”
“What?”
“Just what was happening in your office when we knocked this morning?”
“Blake!” Alex snatched his hand, dragging him off to the bedroom. Before they got too far from earshot, JJ called for Alex.
“Thank you, by the way,” she said. “Our talk over the weekend put a lot of issues in focus.”
Alex smiled. JJ added in a small whisper. “We’re even going out on our first date this weekend.” Alex jumped up and down like a high school girl. “I’m so glad for you.” Then she ran off to find Blake.
Chapter 27
A quiet Italian restaurant was the perfect setting for their first formal date, JJ thought. She felt the warmth of Kenn’s hand on her back as he delicately guided her into the small but cozy foyer. Artificial trees separated the foyer and part of the dining room, while the soft lighting provided the perfect ambiance against the wine–red carpeting and walls. It had been years since she had been on a date. Fear, anticipation, and excitement — she felt them all.
“I hope you like this place. I asked some of the faculty members and they all agreed Mario and Luigi’s was the best Italian restaurant in town.” Kenn paused. “Okay, it’s the only Italian restaurant in town.”
As they made their way through the foyer, they reached the maitre d’ who looked quite proper and imposing. Kenn told him he had a reservation. The maitre d’ looked at the couple, glaring critically over his reading glasses. Then he appeared to give the couple a double take. He forced a bright smile. It seemed as if a bolt of energy shot through his body. He looked squarely at JJ and assured the couple he had nothing but the best of tables waiting for them. Kenn again wrapped his arm around JJ’s waist. She didn’t protest.
As he guided them to their table, Kenn whispered. “Do you know him?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been in this restaurant before.”
“Perhaps he’s a fan.”
“A closet conspirator. How exciting.”
“I was thinking more in lines of a closet romantic.”
Kenn helped JJ with her chair, then sat down himself. The maitre d’ again smiled. It appeared it was not something that he was used to doing as it didn’t appear to come easily for him. He hurriedly left the pair to be replaced by an eager waiter who stood before them with a bottle of wine. JJ was about to say she didn’t think she wanted a glass when he explained it was a present from the management. He then went through all the formal rituals associated with opening the bottle at the table and allowed each of them to taste it.
He poured their wine, announced the specials for the day, and promised to return to take their orders.
“You seem to be very important around here, JJ.”
“Well, I’m not sure why. I have a hard time believing this is because of me. Are we the ten–thousandth customer or something?”
Before they could speculate further, two short, rather pudgy, nearly roly-poly men in formal black tuxedoes appeared in front of them. They spoke in unison. “Hello. Hello”
“My name is Mario.”
“And I’m Luigi.”
Together they said, “Welcome to Mario and Luigi’s Italian Bistro.”
“Thank you,” Kenn said, but they weren’t talking to him; they were talking to JJ. Quickly he leaned over and said, “This place should be named Bird Land. These guys look just like penguins.”
The pair did look like twin penguins. Both were about the same height — not any taller than five feet. Both wore their hair in a classic bowl cut with bangs that merged with thick eyebrows. And both sported a healthy thick mustache.
“Don’t be silly,” JJ whispered. “Penguins don’t have mustaches.”
“We are so honored to have you here tonight,” Mario said.
“Indeed, we are honored to have you here tonight,” repeated Luigi, adding, “We hope you find everything to your satisfaction.”
Feeling a bit uncomfortable because the pair hadn’t yet taken their eyes off of her, JJ managed a nervous smile. “I’m quite sure we will. This is the first time I’ve been here.”
“Oh yes, we know,” said Mario. Or was that Luigi?
“But we’re hoping it won’t be the last,” the other added. “If you need anything at all, Ms. Yaki, you just ask your server. He
’s the best we have. And if he doesn’t satisfy you, then you request us.” Mario winked and they toddled away.
The professors sat there for a moment, mouths agape. Kenn spoke first. “He called you Ms. Yaki. Do you know who he thinks you are?
“Some misplaced Chinese takeout meal?”
“No, he thinks you’re the food critic for the Bell Wyck Bugle.”
“No, he doesn’t. He couldn’t.”
“Her name is Teri Yaki.”
“Well, aren’t they going to be surprised when there’s no review in the paper tomorrow morning? They’ll be sorry they opened this bottle of wine,” she said, taking another sip. “I find this very amusing. Embarrassing, but amusing.”
Chapter 28
It was a quiet Italian restaurant until the two figures clad in beige trench coats, wide-brimmed hats and oversized sunglasses stepped in.
They paused briefly in the lobby of Mario and Luigi’s. Alex lifted her sunglasses and used exaggerated moves as she swiftly scanned the layout. She took several steps forward and poked her head into the dining area.
“Oooh!” she squealed.
“What? Where?” Blake asked.
“There,” Alex pointed at Kenn and JJ. “There they are.”
Alex flipped her sunglasses back down over her eyes, tugged at Blake’s arm, and dragged him to the other end of the foyer.
They stepped around a family of four — a mom, dad, and two teenagers — in the process.
“Come on, we’ve got to snag that table before the maitre d’ gives it away.” Alex picked up the pace, grabbed two menus from the side of the podium as she passed it, and walked — Blake in tow — using exaggerated tiptoes to the first artificial tree she found.
“Thank God this section of the place is lined with these trees,” she whispered to Blake, looking ahead to where the empty booth was. He didn’t hear her, though; he was already browsing through the menu.
“Spaghetti sounds good … but then filet sounds bloody good, too.”
Alex took her menu that had been covering her face as she walked and bopped him on the head with it.
“Focus, Blake, focus. Place the menu in front of your face like this.” She grabbed it out of his hands and held it up to hide his face from the diners.
“Now, we’ll tiptoe over to the next tree. Quietly, but quickly.” Alex raised her left leg as if she were marching, only silently and slower and much more deliberately than a march.
Blake sighed dramatically. “Is this really necessary?”
“Of course it is! All the great spies have approached their targets this way. Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin. Robert Culp and Bill Cosby. Agents 86 and 99. Even Boris Badenov and Natasha.”
“They’re all TV characters,” Blake complained. Alex pushed a branch aside as she passed it, letting it go in time to smack her fellow spy in the face.
“And we’re two fictional characters from a romance novel. What’s your point?”
“No point, I guess. No point at all.”
Finally, they slinked their way over to the booth across from JJ and Kenn and hurriedly slid into the benches.
“Just in time.” Alex said. And not a moment too soon. The maitre d’ had reached the booth with the family of four. He was startled to discover it already occupied. With the confidence and grace of a professional, he steered his customers to the next booth, acting as if nothing unusual had just occurred. On his return to the podium, he glared at the couple. Alex sweetly smiled back; Blake tipped his hat.
“Here, hurry!” Alex opened Blake’s menu for him and stuck it in front of his face.
“Again?”
“Yes, again.”
Blake dutifully obliged. He waited a moment, and then stuck his head out of the side of the large book.
“Psst! Alex.” Her pose identical to his, she strained to hear JJ’s conversation with Kenn.
“Psst! Sweetheart!” he repeated.
“What!?” The exclamation came out a little louder than she had intended. She whispered, “Can’t you see I’m trying to listen?”
“Quite frankly, I can’t see a bloody thing with this menu in front of me like this.”
Alex poked her head out from behind her menu. “That’s a good thing. That means they can’t see you.” Her head bobbed back behind her makeshift fortress.
“I’m still going to have the spaghetti.” He laid the menu down. “Garçon! Garçon!” He held his right hand above his head and snapped his fingers.
“Don’t!” Alex frantically tried to shove the menu back in Blake’s face and reached for his arm to pull it down.
The commotion caught Kenn’s attention. He momentarily lifted his eyes from his own menu to see the struggle between Alex and Blake.
“What a comical pair,” Kenn said. “There’s something oddly familiar about them.”
JJ looked their way, gasping.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake … Isn’t that — ?” Kenn jumped up with enthusiasm and bounded over to the couple.
Just as Kenn approached the booth, the maître d’ came into sight, walking swiftly and purposefully. But he wasn’t alone. Hustling up from behind, trying hard to keep up with his long-legged strides, were Mario and Luigi. For every step he took, the brothers took three.
“Them.” The maître d’ dramatically swung his arm, looked over his half glasses, and pointed his long, bony finger at Alex and Blake. “They should not be there.”
Alex fidgeted in her seat, adjusting the menu so they couldn’t see her face.
“Why not?” Kenn asked.
“Oh, Mr. Yaki. Are these friends of yours?”
“Yes, Mr. Yaki,” Luigi parroted. “Are these friends of yours?”
JJ hurried over to join them. “Excuse me,” she said, addressing the owners. “This is my cousin Alex and her fiancé Blake.” Alex gave a meek finger wave from behind the menu.
Mario and Luigi smiled and finger-waved back. The maître d’stood steadfast in his displeasure with the situation.
“Alex, you didn’t tell me you and Blake were eating here tonight,” JJ said. She turned to the owners. “She didn’t tell me they were eating here tonight.”
“She didn’t tell her,” Luigi repeated to Mario. “Nobody told her.”
Mario looked helpless. The maître d’glared at all of them.
“What the hell,” JJ muttered to herself, “the evening is already ruined.” She raised her voice, “Alex, Blake, why don’t you sit with Kenn and me. Of course, that is if it’s okay with you.” She looked at the brothers.
Luigi brightened nearly applauding her offer. “Why don’t you sit with them,” he said with relief. “Of course, if it’s okay with you, Mario.”
JJ could still feel the maître d’s predator stare. Now, she felt as if she were a mother rabbit protecting her bunnies from the hawk that was circling the nest.
The owners, however, appeared quite relieved. “Why, of course,” Mario nearly shouted. “That’s wonderful.”
He looked at the maître d’ and said, “Lesley, see to it that Ms. Yaki’s table is complete for four. And make sure they get another bottle of the finest wine in our cellar.” Turning to JJ, he added, “On the house, of course.”
“Ms. Yaki, I had no idea they were related to you. Please forgive us.”
The fictional couple tore out of the booth and beat the other couple to their own table. They began to talk animatedly about their dinner choices.
The server efficiently set the table for two more, then returned with another bottle of wine. “Compliments of the owners,” he said as he uncorked the bottle.
“Wait! No one take a sip yet!” Blake jumped up nearly toppling his chair. “I propose a toast. To all that is good in the world. To lifelong friendship.” And then looking down at Alex, he said a little quieter, “And to finding your true love.”
Alex blushed; JJ nearly dropped her glass and Kenn merely agreed. “Cheers!” Kenn added. The glasses clinked together and all took a sip.
Loud noises from across the restaurant interrupted him before he could finish. Three men were setting up sound equipment. “Oh, good,” Alex said. “A live band. How romantic.” She lifted her eyebrows and looked pointedly at JJ.
“They don’t appear to be your run–of–the–mill lounge act,” JJ commented. “The two are dressed in the customs of the Orthodox Jews with their payos but — ”
Blake interrupted her. “Their what?”
“Payos. The long curled sideburns they wear. That’s what they’re called.”
“Ohh … ”
“But they’re also wearing sombreros. Hardly Orthodox Jewish head coverings,” Kenn added.
“And look at the third man,” Alex said. “He’s dressed in a sombrero and serape.”
Mario scampered up to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mario and Luigi’s Italian Bistro is proud to present to you — straight from Brooklyn, New York — the most talented Jewish Mariachi polka band in all the land.” He paused, waiting for applause, but none came. “This talented trio really needs no introduction, so I’ll let them do what they do best — play their own special brand of music.”
JJ heard a muffled noise from Kenn. He was trying hard to suppress uncontrollable laughter. When she saw this, she herself couldn’t help but giggle.
“Heck, the finest in all the land,” she said. “The only band in all the land is more like it.”
The musical trio had one accordion and two maracas. They introduced themselves to the diners. “I’m Shel,” said the taller of the two orthodox-looking men. “And I’m Ira,” said the other. “My name is Jose,” said the third with a distinct Latino accent.
Jose picked up the accordion and began to play; Shel and Ira played the maracas. While the band played various polka tunes, the foursome ordered their meals. The server read back their entrees. “Two chicken cacciatores for the ladies,” he said. “A spaghetti dinner for one gentleman, and a spaghetti dinner and a filet mignon for the other.” He looked at Blake, who nodded enthusiastic approval.
