by Ashley Munoz
I stared at my computer as I responded, “So who do I have to RSVP with? And should I eat before I come, or can I offer to bring some Chinese food?”
He shook his head and looked up at me from his screen. “We are making mini pizzas. You will have your own dough and can make one with us, if you want. If you don’t want mini pizzas, then eat before you come. And you don’t have to RSVP, just tell me if you plan on coming or not, so we know to save room for you in the theatre.”
I looked at him square in the face as I tried to process what he just said. “I’m sorry, the theatre? Do you have a theatre down in the basement or something?”
Jimmy laughed, and I wanted to set the sound as my ringtone or bottle it up somehow; it was like melted butter on a delicious pancake. “No, we make a theatre in our living room, out of blankets and pillows and stuff. It's fun, and it’s tradition. We try to do a theatre night at least once a month, or around a special occasion, and Jazzy’s tryout is our special occasion.”
I felt humbled and honored but, just to be clear, asked, “And they asked me to come?”
Jimmy grabbed his chin and rubbed the stubble as he answered. “Yeah, they wanted you there, and I don’t know, Ramsey?” He began to trail off, and then grabbed the back of his neck.
“I wanted to apologize to you, again. Looks like I am doing that a lot. I can’t quite explain why I asked you to stay in Belvidere all week. I know I thought we had this connection the other night, and I went for it and overstepped a boundary between us. I hope you can forgive me and come to this theatre night for the kids. They would really love it if you came.”
My tongue felt thick and my neck was hot. Jimmy was so vulnerable and sweet, and so different from the guy who nearly ran me off the road and fired me from Sip N Sides. I looked at my computer screen again, then once I was sure there was no gleam or damn hearts in my eyes, I glanced up. “Of course I forgive you, and of course, I will come to theatre night. I feel honored to have been invited. Should I bring anything?”
Jimmy smiled so wide that I saw every perfectly straight and sparkling tooth in his beautiful mouth. Then I wanted to slap that smile off his face when he responded with, “Just your body,” mocking me from my unfortunate text mishap from last weekend.
My face burned red as he laughed at me. “Just joking, I couldn't resist.”
I smiled, and we fell into an easy banter as he went over information with me about the books. It wasn’t until he asked about his dad's books that things got awkward again.
It was close to noon, and I was hoping that once he brought it up, he would just leave and go set up everything for this famous theatre night. He was perched half on the desk with his leg hanging down and his hands in his lap as he asked, “So, how bad is my dad doing? Is it still a total money pit?”
I rubbed my hands on my thighs and straightened my spine, ready for some serious lying that was about to happen. If Theo didn’t want me to tell Jimmy the truth, then I wouldn't. “Your Dad is doing fine. Not a pit, just making ends meet.” Not exactly a lie, but also not outing that his dad has way more money than him.
Jimmy's eyes narrowed on me and his eyebrows drew together, making him look confused. “Are you sure he’s doing okay? I worry about him, but every time I try to peek at his books, he freaks out and shuts me out."
I bent my head down just a little, letting the pieces of hair that were out of my braid fall over my face, so that hopefully he didn’t pick up on my deception. “Yep, nothing to worry about with your dad.”
I could feel the heat of his stare as he sat there in silence, but I just kept looking at my screen like nothing was wrong.
I must have a terrible poker face because the next thing to leave his lips was, “Then you wouldn’t mind if next week we sit down and go over his books together?”
Crap. Double Crap.
I smiled sweetly, looked up at him, and said, “Not at all,” then quickly turned my gaze back to the computer screen. Maybe I would have enough time before next week to tip off Theo, so he would have a game plan because even though Jimmy might not be great at accounting, something told me that he'd notice over one hundred grand in Theo's cash reserve. Jimmy lifted up off the desk and adjusted his baseball hat.
“Well, I am going to head out, text me if there are any issues. You are welcome to leave as soon as the books are balanced, and we have a set budget for the kitchen and bar for the weekend.”
I had requested to set the budget for the kitchen because those animals had no clue what they were doing. I also requested to oversee payroll and basically anything finance-related. Jimmy agreed faster than I expected, but the money side of things wasn't his expertise.
I smiled at him again and responded with a simple, “You got it, boss.”
The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. It was amazing how much work someone could get done when there was no one else in the office to bug you. During my unofficial lunch break, I called Laney to let her know I wouldn't be coming this weekend. While I waited for the phone to ring through, I took a few bites of raspberry scone.
"Hello?" Laney answered her office phone like she was genuinely confused. She always did, and it never ceased to amuse me.
"Lane, it's me. I have an update about this weekend," I said, through a thick mixture of scone crumbs and saliva.
"Great, what's the news?" Laney asked with a positive tone. Crap, this wasn't going to be easy. I took a sip of water to clear out the rest of the scone I foolishly tried to finish, before braving the news.
"I can't make it. I totally forgot that I promised Jimmy's little girl that I would do her hair for her dance tryouts on Saturday."
Silence. I waited with bated breath. Laney might yell, or she might cry, or she may be totally fine with it. It usually depended on what time of the month it was, and whether or not she got a late notice about her student loans.
"Seriously, Ram? Are you sure you can't come after or something? I could really use a girls’ weekend with you." Laney sounded desperate, which surprised me and threw me off a bit. I felt guilty and really wanted to figure out why it was desperation in her voice and not anger, but I already knew that I wouldn't want to drive almost three hours to Chicago, only to have to turn around the next day and head back.
"Laney, I know and I'm so sorry. I totally suck, but her tryouts are later in the afternoon. I wouldn't make it to Chicago until late, and then I'd have to turn around and head back to be here in time for my mom to get home," I finished, trying to sound lighthearted, but I knew she was upset. I hated this long-distance thing.
I heard a loud sigh and a clicking noise. "Fine. I understand. But promise me you will try and come soon. There's a guy who I need to dish to you about."
There it was. Something was off, and I knew it had to do with whoever this guy was. "Really? Do we have to dish in person, can we do a phone date later?" I begged.
Laney laughed, and then covered the phone to answer someone else. "Ram, of course we can dish on the phone. I'll call you soon, okay? I gotta run."
"Love you, talk soon," I assured her while I snagged another scone. I hung up the phone and looked around the bar, until I saw that Rav staring at me. He was cutting a few limes at the counter, shaking his head back and forth.
"What?" I threw at him from my spot across the room.
"Eat a salad, or a sandwich. You can't just eat scones, it's not good for you," he argued while chopping more limes.
I grabbed my things and walked over to him. "Rav, it's not my fault you bake the best scones I've ever tasted. Plus, there's tons of ingredients in them, making them a perfectly acceptable meal." I took another bite, proving my point. Crumbs fell down onto my shirt. I looked down and wiped them off in frustration. Rav saw my movement and rolled his eyes.
"Eat a salad!" he yelled over his shoulder as he walked back to the kitchen.
Not a chance, baker boy. Not a chance.
I finished up around four and excitedly made my way through the mass of people
that had already gathered near the bar. On my way home, I thought over the movie night at Jimmy’s. I began to overanalyze it, wondering if there was some hidden agenda behind it. Then I realized how trivial I was being and decided to just accept it for what it was—an invitation from his kids. I completely melted at the idea. I needed to relax and enjoy the evening, and take Theo’s advice to just let go. I parked Mom's old green SUV in the usual spot and wrangled the house keys from my purse. It felt so weird coming home to an empty house, even though I had been living on my own since I was eighteen. Over the last six months I'd gotten used to living with another person. I padded past the living room and headed to my room, ignoring how loud the silence was in the empty house.
After showering, I stood in front of my closet, paralyzed. I hated being that girl, but I believed every girl had some part of her that would stand in the closet and worry about what she was going to wear over to her boss’ house, to have a movie date with his kids, when there might still be some romantic type feelings still happening between said boss.
At least there were on my end. No matter how frequently I talked myself out of going for anything with Jimmy, my mind still betrayed me with images of us together. We would be the cutest couple, my mind decided, and I would be the world's best stepmother that had ever existed. That train wreck situation was still going strong in my life, and this complicated weekend wasn’t doing me any favors towards clearing it up.
I grabbed a hold of some distressed jeans in one hand and held up my yoga pants in the other. Finally, I decided that regardless of where the movie was being watched, no one wanted to curl up to a feature film in jeans, it just wasn't comfortable. So, I pulled on my yoga pants, a sports bra, and then an oversized, off the shoulder college shirt. I was going to be comfortable, and it was time that I pushed past the need to look cute in front of Jimmy. I pulled my hair into a fishtail braid, threw on some flip-flops, and headed out. I was excited to spend the evening with Jasmine and Sammy. We had fun last weekend, and I was eager to get to know them better. They made me laugh and they managed to brighten up any space they filled. People like that were rare, and I needed some brightening in my life.
I stood in front of Jimmy's door, slightly before six. "Don't make it weird. You turned Jimmy down and he put you at Sip N Sides all week. Now you're just acquaintances, possibly friends, but that's it!" I reminded myself before I knocked on the door. Jasmine answered, wearing a purple princess gown and a plastic crown on top of her blonde head.
I smiled at her as she grabbed the hem of her dress and swayed to the side of the door frame to let me pass while practically yelling, “Welcome, Princess Ramsey, to our royal theatre night!”
I half-bowed, half-curtsied, then made my way past her saying, “Wow, Jazzy, you look gorgeous!”
She beamed and led the way into the kitchen where Sammy and Jimmy were. They were covered in flour and had two round crusts in front of them, covered in red sauce.
I put my purse down and slid onto one of the stools. “Did I miss the pizza making?”
I asked, trying to break the ice. For some reason, I was nervous and felt shy. Jimmy smiled at me and then handed me a big lump of dough.
“Nope, you are just in time. Jazzy just put hers in a few minutes ago, Sammy is next, and depending on how fast you are, it's either you or me after him.”
I felt the dough in my hand, then hopped off the stool, and walked over to the sink. I placed the dough on a paper towel and then scrubbed my hands, trying not to notice that Jimmy hadn’t moved to make space for me at the sink. He kept his place, crowding me, while his eyes focused on the dough in front of him. I breathed in his spicy smell that blended with the aroma of baked crust, and tried not to groan at the irresistible combination. I wanted to place my nose in his neck and inhale until my nose hurt.
Ignoring my strange urge, I dried my hands and went back to my stool. I glanced at Jimmy for a brief second, just to see if he would betray some look to show that he had crowded me on purpose, but when I looked at him, he was still focused on his pizza.
Maybe I imagined it?
I grabbed some flour and threw it down in front of me, and began working on my mini pizza. After several attempts to flatten and shape my dough into something that might resemble an actual circle, I finally settled on an odd-shaped, uneven, and lopsided patch of dough. I threw some red sauce on it, and some mozzarella, then claimed the next spot in line behind Sammy for the oven.
Jimmy stared at my handiwork and laughed. “Not much for fine detail, are you?”
I creased my brows and stared at my not-so-great masterpiece. “Not exactly, unless of course, there is math involved.”
He let out a loud laugh at my lame sentiment, then placed his perfectly round and flat piece of dough on the counter and lathered it in pizza sauce and mozzarella cheese.
I stared at it and sighed. “Good thing it wasn't a competition.”
He laughed again, then surprised me by saying, “Don't worry, Rams, we'll turn you into a pro when it comes to making mini pizzas.”
I smiled and tried to hide the fact that I was geeking out over him including me in his long-term plans. Pushing back some unruly hair, I asked, “Now why would I need to become a pro?”
I don't think he thought through his response when he said, “Because Stensons don't settle for anything less.”
Then he turned around and started answering Sammy's questions about his pizza. I let myself off the stool and headed into the living room to find Jasmine. My mind was a freaking freight train that had taken off. I was surely overthinking Jimmy's response about how “Stensons don’t settle for anything less.” It felt a lot like he was calling me a Stenson, and if he was, it was obviously in a platonic, sisterly way… right? I needed Laney or a reference guide for complicated relationships.
Jasmine came over and started tugging at the end of my braid. I looked down at her to answer her unspoken question, then took the elastic tie off the end of my braid. I sat down on the floor and relaxed as Jasmine’s small fingers pulled on my hair. I took the moment to look around and admire the huge fort that Jimmy had set up.
The whole living room was encased in hanging sheets from the ceiling with little stringed lights that hung alongside each panel. It looked like I had died and gone to fort heaven.
I had this need to be inside of it, like I was a little kid again, so I turned my head slightly towards Jasmine and said, "Hey, let's move inside the fort."
Jasmine held tight to my hair as I slowly stood, and we made our way through two large, white sheets. Once inside, we readjusted to a comfortable sitting position and she continued braiding. There were four little bed rolls laid out in front of the TV, with a pile of pillows set up behind them. I touched the blankets under my legs and smiled. This was the coolest thing I had ever seen and really close to transcending my trampoline moment from the other night.
Something warm settled in my stomach—it felt like coming home. I tried to shut it down, I tried so hard, but a small part of me didn't want to because I loved being near this family. That same part of me admitted that I didn't just like the family, I liked Jimmy. I thought back over the moments I had with him—the firm set of his jaw when he was frustrated, and the few times things hadn’t gone exactly smooth between us. Then I thought of all the moments that did. The easy smile he got when he looked at his kids, the way he pulled the hair from my jacket that first night of work. The way he brought me dinner. The dips and flips in my stomach when I saw him or he came near me.
Shit, I totally liked him. How did that work in with my “no dating” plans? My mom's sickness hadn't changed, she was still my biggest priority. Panic set in with a whole lot of fear because I could not fall for Jimmy Stenson. I could not. I could not fall for his kids, or his home theatre forts, or his mini pizza skills, I could not. I began to breathe in and out slowly, so that Jasmine didn’t catch on to the fact that I was slowly drowning in the idea of being a part of their family.
Ja
smine bent to the side to peer at my face, while still holding firm to my braid. “Look, Ramsey! I actually braided! I did it!” She started jumping up and down with excitement.
I wanted to cry. Instead, I threw my arms around her and pulled her into my lap. “I knew you could do it. See, practice makes perfect.”
Pieces of hair were falling from the braid, and I could feel how loose it was, but I wasn't going to say anything; this moment with her was perfect. Jimmy and Sammy came in, ducking their heads through the sheet entrance with our pizzas and some sodas. Sammy looked at Jasmine's position in my lap and immediately abandoned his pizza to find his own spot.
"Move, Jasmine! I want a spot too!" Sammy whined, while wiggling his body into place on one of my thighs.
I threw my head back and laughed as I grabbed onto both of them and squeezed. Unfortunately, my eyes found their way up to Jimmy's. He stared at us. At me. His look seemed to have about a million layers to it. My pulse raced as his green eyes danced with mine. Look away. Look away! I internally demanded, urged, even threatened myself, but in the end, I didn't look away; I just stared back.
It felt like a romantic moment, as we stared into each other's eyes, and it might have been one, except for the loud and very painful crack that came next. Ouch, holy hell, owww!
"Sammy!" Jimmy yelled, and grabbed for his son to pull him away from me.
Holding in my pathetic cries, I tried to grasp onto what had just happened to my face. A small elbow landed, powerfully in the corner of my eye. Sammy was apologizing, while holding his hand to his mouth.
"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry," he said, on the verge of tears while moving further away from me with his dad's guidance. I hadn't yelled or said anything, so I was surprised at his concern. Then I realized that I hadn't opened my eye yet. I was sitting there, holding in my breath, as tears threatened to fall and profanity threatened to spill from my lips.
"It's okay, bud. Don't worry about it. I'll grab some ice and be good as new." I carefully stood up and limped towards the entrance, in search of some ice. Why was I limping? I had no clue, but for some reason, the fact that I couldn't open my eye made my legs not function properly.
