She's The One

by J. J. Murray

  If he were only … What? Less hairy? An American? Employed in a real job? Less arrogant? More intelligent? The man drives a nice SUV yet owns a mule?

  She shook her head. She couldn’t let this go on. If it breaks his heart, so be it. I can’t let him treat me like this … because I cannot return his many favors with any of my own.

  She gathered the pot, bowl, spoons, and linen napkin. She decided to keep the rose for the scent, not the sentiment, tightened her boot strings, picked a twig from her hair, and left the cabin to the higher-pitched sounds of the wolves.

  “Bianca and Vincenzo are at it again,” Fish said.

  “He’ll be hoarse in the morning,” Walt said.

  “Not if he wolfs her down,” Fish said.

  “Ha.” Walt noticed Katharina’s door was open. “Katha-rina’s leaving her cabin.”

  Fish tinkered with some of the controls. “It’s really dark tonight.”

  “Go infrared, then,” Walt suggested.

  “I knew I’d infect you sooner or later.”

  Katharina stopped in front of Pietro’s cabin. She dinged the serving spoon against the pot. “Yo, Fonzi!”

  Pietro came out onto the porch wearing a fluffy blue bathrobe and moccasins. “You like?”

  Katharina stepped closer. Geez! Look at his hairy legs! Why does the man ever wear pants! “I know you understand a lot of what I say, so I’ll just say it and get on. I don’t need your help. I have never needed your help. I will never need your help. Understand?” She set the pot, bowl, spoons, and napkin on the porch. “I know you admire me, and I’m touched. But after this movie is over, I’m going back to California, and you’re going back to wherever it is you’re from. Understand?”

  Pietro’s eyes dropped. “I will not help. But where is the rose?”

  “I’m keeping it so my cabin doesn’t smell so funky.”

  Pietro nodded. “I understand. Let me know when it dies. I will get you another.”

  Oh, that’s so sweet, but … “What is up with you? Don’t you understand what I’m saying? You’re just a handyman, a jack-of-all-trades. You’re not the director, you’re not the producer, you’re not even an extra. Yet you try daily to tell me how to do my job.”

  Pietro frowned. “I don’t tell you. I show you. There is difference.”

  Okay, so he’s not a complete moron. “Well … stop showing me, then. It’s getting on my nerves.”

  Pietro bowed his head. “Mi dispiace. I am sorry.”

  Why does he have to have such kind eyes? I have to end his infatuation with me now! “And you know what else? You are one of the meanest, most stubborn, rudest, most arrogant people I have ever met. And you act like you know me all the time. You don’t know me! You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  “No. I do not know you well. I know I am good cook. I know you are hungry.” He stretched out his hand. “I not touch you without your permission anymore. It is in me to touch. Italiano, yes?”

  Katharina didn’t take his hand, instead pulling her hands close to her body. “Haven’t you been listening? I don’t need you or your food, capeesh?”

  Pietro smiled. “Is capisco, not ‘caw-peesh.’”

  Katharina growled. “Oh, and now you’re correcting my Italiano? You’ll be correcting my English, too, huh?”

  “I never do that.” He stepped closer. “You are the actress. I am the help.” He picked up the stew, the bowl, the spoons, and the napkin.

  The aroma drifted to Katharina instantly. I should have had a few more bites. “Um, you’re right.”

  Pietro nodded. “So, I am help. I make food. You eat.”

  He got me. How did I let him get me like that?

  “I can bring to you or …” He extended his hand again.

  Katharina looked at her tracks leading up the hill and far away to her cabin. “I can walk on my own.”

  Pietro stepped aside, and Katharina entered his cabin.

  Fish flipped the other “backup” switch, pointing at the big screen, showing Katharina sitting at Pietro’s table. “I only have two fish-eyes in there, Walt, but as you saw from Vincenzo’s cabin, they’ll be enough.”

  “How’d you put those cameras in there without Pietro finding out?”

  “I am magic.”

  Walt looked up at the big screen and sighed. “Now that’s romantic. Nice fire. A few candles around. Is that the tub? He was about to take a bath!”

  “Priceless,” Fish said.

  “I couldn’t write this stuff,” Walt said.

  Pietro started immediately to serve Katharina, but she grabbed his wrist and took the serving spoon. She served herself a bowl, nodded once to the “help,” and inhaled a bowl of stew in less than a minute. Pietro tried to serve her more, but Katharina’s eyes stopped him. He turned the serving spoon around, Katharina took it, nodded again, filled her bowl, and savored her stew this time.

  “How much English do you understand, Alessandro?”

  Walt threw his head back and yelled, “She finally said his name correctly!”

  Fish shrugged. “I kind of liked Fonzi.”

  Pietro eyed the other chair. “May I sit?”

  Katharina nodded. “If you must.”

  He sat and slid into his chair, his naked knees brushing Katharina’s ragged leggings. “Capisco un po’. I understand a little. You must talk lentamente, slow.”

  His knees are touching mine, and he doesn’t notice? Maybe because his legs are so hairy? Eww. The nerve! “Why is your cabin so warm, Alessandro?”

  Pietro looked at the fireplace. “I build fire right.”

  Katharina noticed a bathtub steaming in a much bigger bathroom than hers. “Um, and I don’t?” He has hot water, too. Why does he—Oh yeah, he uses the cauldron.

  “You make good fire, Katharina,” Pietro said. “But it burns too fast. Must have foundation.”

  Katharina noticed the fire’s nice, even flame, the logs stacked like Lincoln Logs, and the bathrobe he was wearing. I must be blind! “Were you about to take a bath?”

  Pietro nodded. “Yes. Water too hot still. You smell something?”

  Katharina felt his knees leave hers. “No. Just this stew.”

  Pietro stood. “Something … Aglio. Garlic.”

  Katharina sniffed the stew. “Like I said, the stew. You put garlic in it.”

  Pietro nodded. “But not this much …” He circled the table once, returning to Katharina. “It is you.”

  Katharina dropped her spoon. “I beg your pardon!”

  Pietro jumped back. “I am sorry. But it is you, Katharina. Aglio. Garlic. Very strong.”

  I can’t believe this shit! “I’ve been a little busy making a movie, and y’all have only given me one little square of soap. What do you expect me to smell like?”

  He pointed to the tub. “You go. Is ready. You need.”

  Fish leaned forward as he zoomed in on Katharina’s face. “Please take a bath, Katharina. If not for him, do it for me.”

  “Shrews smell like garlic so their predators let them go,” Walt whispered.

  “What?” Fish asked.

  “Um, nothing.”

  * * *

  Katharina searched all around the nice, cozy cabin for the right words to say, but the water kept calling her name. “You want me to take a bath just like that?”

  Pietro smiled. “Water caldo. Ready. Hot. Good for hands.”

  Katharina turned away from him. “No,” she said softly. That wasn’t very convincing. I better try again. “No,” she said evenly.

  “I have soap, shampoo, the cream,” Pietro said.

  “The cream?”

  Pietro moved so he could look Katharina in the eye. “For legs.”

  “Lotion?”

  “Um, no.” He pantomimed shaving his legs. “For legs.”

  Katharina’s mouth dropped onto the table, rolled around for several moments, then snapped back up into her head. “My legs are not …” She felt between the bloomers and Bianca’s socks
. Jesus, I’m as hairy as he is. I could set them with curlers. When’s the last time I … It’s a damn forest down there!

  “Per favore. You need bath, Katharina.”

  If he had any more nerve he’d be two people!

  “I will close door. Door has lock. Only you in there. No keyhole. No window. All alone. Water stay hot for hour. I go outside and wait.”

  God, he makes it sound so good. “I do not … look at my lips, Fonzi. I do not want a bath. Okay?”

  Pietro sighed. “Okay. Then I will take.”

  Pietro shrugged out of his robe and walked into the bathroom, kicking off his moccasins before he stepped into the tub, turned, and settled into the water, steam rising all around him. “Ahh,” he said. “Perfetto!”

  Katharina’s jaw was getting tired from dropping, and this time it decided to stay on the table. He just … that was … He … Damn, he just …

  Pietro soaped his hairy chest to a lather and began to sing a soft Italian love song.

  And now he’s … She finally closed her mouth. Damn, he has a fine booty.

  Fish couldn’t speak.

  Walt couldn’t stop speaking. “You saw her face, didn’t you? When he dropped that robe, she just … Wow! Her eyes said, ‘Wow!’ She has to go in, Fish, she just has to!”

  Fish nodded.

  “You’re agreeing with me, Fish?”

  Fish nodded again. “She smells like garlic.”

  Chapter 30

  Katharina saw her hands push back from the table. She felt her legs push her out of her seat. She caught a whiff of garlic, and she wasn’t near the stew. She heard a hairy man singing something sexy from a bathtub. She watched herself walk across the cabin floor all the way to the tub. She smiled when she looked down and thought of some of the poles she had tried to plant earlier in the day.

  “Get up,” she heard herself say.

  “No,” Pietro said.

  Katharina snapped out of her daydream. “What?”

  “I say no,” Pietro said, rinsing the soap from his chest.

  Katharina stepped to the other end of the tub and pulled out a silver chain. “I’ll do it.”

  Pietro smiled and began soaping his legs. “You won’t.”

  “Watch me.”

  Pietro paused and watched.

  Katharina dropped the chain. “Get up!”

  “I am not done,” Pietro said. “When I am done.”

  Katharina gripped the tub with both hands. “Then … move to this end.”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” Katharina stepped into the tub fully clothed and sat at the other end of the tub, leaning her head to the side to avoid the faucet. Hot water! How I’ve missed hot water! “Are you done with the soap yet?”

  “No.” Pietro stood and soaped his back, legs, booty, and penis. He sat, the soap foaming to the surface. “Now I am done.” He rinsed off the soap and handed it to Katharina.

  He just … And I just sat here and watched him do it. What am I, hypnotized? She began scrubbing her face and her clothes rapidly, the soap stinging the cuts on her hands.

  “You need assistente, Katharina?”

  My turn to say it! “No.”

  Pietro reached under the water and grabbed one of Katha-rina’s feet.

  “No!” she yelled, jerking it away.

  “I rub your feet.”

  “No.”

  Pietro reached under the water again and grabbed one of Katharina’s feet again, this time holding her by the ankle. “I rub your feet.”

  She tried to jerk away again. “No!”

  Pietro removed the wool sock and massaged her foot with his free hand.

  Oh shit, that feels so good! She used her other foot to push Pietro’s hand away. “Cut it out!”

  Pietro slid closer. “Give me feet.”

  “No.”

  “She looks like a deer in headlights,” Fish said.

  “Like a scared little rabbit.”

  “Like one of them big-eyed gecko-looking things,” Fish said.

  “What?”

  “Her skin has to be scaly as hell, right?”

  Pietro slid even closer, Katharina’s legs resting on his shins, his feet pressing against her thighs. He removed the other wool sock and threw it against the wall. “I rub feet.”

  “Okay, okay,” Katharina said. “You rub feet.”

  Katharina had to hold on to the sides of the tub for ten minutes while her feet soared with the angels, flew through marshmallow skies, and landed in a land of cotton.

  I almost came for real just now! “Are you done? I have a lot of work to do.”

  “No.” He took the shampoo and lathered his hair.

  Katharina pointed at his chest. “Do your chest while you’re at it.”

  Pietro lathered up his chest. He pushed back and dunked his head. When he emerged, he blinked away some water, wiped his eyes, and stood.

  I’m thinking of a statue, Katharina thought. I think it was in Rome, only the one in Rome was much smaller, especially … there.

  Pietro stepped out of the tub and took a small towel from a towel rack, drying his hair.

  “You, you, you can leave now, Alessandro.” And take that club with you!

  Pietro dried his chest thoroughly before wrapping the towel around his waist.

  “Um, close the door on your way out.”

  “No,” Pietro said. “You will get cold.”

  “Don’t watch.”

  Pietro shrugged. “I would not watch. Is only bath.”

  As Pietro left, Katharina got an eyeful of Pietro’s butt cheeks peeking through the towel.

  She smiled and looked at the ceiling.

  “This is beyond classic,” Fish said.

  “The most,” Walt said.

  “I can zoom in a little, but it will become more skewed …”

  Walt laughed. “Zoom away. It can’t get any more skewed than it already is.”

  Katharina removed her clothes as she soaped them, draping them over the edge of the tub. She kept her back to the door at all times and took off her leggings last before slipping fully into the water.

  Walt tried to get the image of Katharina’s booty out of his mind. “That’s some seriously, um, soapy water.”

  Fish was struggling with the vision, too. “I wish I could get a better focus, but she’s splashing so much …”

  Walt and Fish stared at each other.

  “The worst thing is,” Fish said, “that we can’t tell a single person on earth what we’ve just seen. You can’t tell your wife.”

  Walt shook his head rapidly.

  “And I don’t have a wife or girlfriend to tell.” Fish shook his head. “And from this moment on, I will compare every booty I see to what I just saw, and I will cry, Walt. I will cry my damn eyes out.”

  “Alessandro!” Katharina yelled.

  Pietro didn’t move from his chair.

  “Alessandro,” Katharina said more softly.

  Pietro still didn’t move.

  Geez! “Yo, Fonzi!”

  Pietro, still in his towel, went to the door. “Yes?”

  “Alessandro, could you wring out my clothes and put them near the fire to dry? I would appreciate it very much.”

  Pietro walked in, collected her clothes, even the socks he’d thrown against the wall, and left the bathroom without looking even once at Katharina. “I will bring you something warm to wear.”

  “Take your time, Alessandro.” He didn’t even look at me! Katharina looked at the beige water. Geez, he probably couldn’t even see me. “Alessandro!”

  “Yes?” Pietro called from the other room.

  “May I borrow a razor?”

  Pietro finished stretching and hanging Katharina’s clothes near the fire, then went into the bathroom, finding a fresh razor under the sink. He handed it to her without looking at her.

  Okay, then. Don’t look. She snatched the plastic razor. “Where is the cream?”

  Pietro rolled his eyes and took a can of
shaving cream from behind the mirror. He looked at Katharina this time. “Here is the cream.”

  Katharina stood, lifting one leg to the edge of the tub.

  “Um, Fish?” Walt asked in a tiny voice.

  “Yes, Walt?” Fish barely said.

  “That’s some full-frontal nudity there, um, Fish.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Fish said. “I am deep in hell right now.”

  Pietro turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Katharina said. She squirted some shaving cream into her hands and handed the can to Pietro. “Grazie, Alessandro.”

  “She’s speaking Italian, Fish.”

  “Don’t talk to me,” Fish said.

  Pietro put the can back behind his mirror, looked once at Katharina, felt a stirring, and hurried out of the room.

  Katharina smiled.

  Thank heavens for little towels on big men, she thought.

  Chapter 31

  Pietro carefully restretched Katharina’s clothes over chair backs, the table, and on hooks above the mantel. He had to adjust his towel several times while trying to remove the image of Katharina standing up in the bathtub from his mind.

  He was failing, and the towel was complaining against the strain. He thought about running out and diving into a snowbank, and just the thought eased the pressure on the towel. He tried to sit on the bearskin on top of his bed but jumped up immediately.

  Geez, he thought. She’s a few feet away looking very sexy and wet, I’m in here wearing a small towel, I am semierect, it’s snowing again, the fire is hot.

  Time out. Take deep breaths. Calma, calma.

  Nothing is going to happen.

  I will get fully dressed. Yes. That’s best. I will give her some sweats to wear. We will have a little chat while we eat some more stew. I will make her some coffee. Her clothes will dry, and then she will leave.

  Nothing is going to happen.

  He looked at the bearskin on his bed.

  She’d really look good with that draped over her shoulders, though. Just knowing there was nothing but her sexy body underneath—