Holiday Magic
Page 19
I smile, the butterflies taking up residence in my stomach again. “Thank you very much.”
He finds a parking spot after we pull into the lot. I take off my seatbelt and reach for the door.
“Don’t you dare!” He points at me, a frown on his face.
“What?” I’m confused.
“Open that door. I’ll open it for you. Just wait a minute.”
He opens the door, mumbling. I rest my hands on my knees, waiting for him to come around and open the door for me.
I look up when I feel the heat of the direct sun as he opens the door. I fight a smile, looking up at him.
“Thank you.”
He looks down at me sternly, “Just because I have a cane, it isn’t an excuse not to be a gentleman. Let me be a gentleman for you.”
I nod and tilt my head. “Okay. You know I’ve been on my own for quite some time, right?”
“Yes. And?”
“You’ll have to let me know what a gentleman does. Can you do that?” I look down, hiding a smile.
I feel his hand on my back, urging me forward, as he rolls his eyes.
“I can show you how a gentleman is supposed to act. Although I’m sure you’re teasing me right now.”
His hand on my back stays as we walk to the entrance of the store. Tingles are moving through my body, originating at the spot he’s touching. I trip over my feet, and his hand goes to my arm, helping me to stay upright.
“Are you okay?”
My head dips as my cheeks warm, “I’m fine. I don’t know what happened. I’m a little clumsy, I guess.”
“You’re fine. You probably just tripped over something in the lot.”
He opens the door for me and I walk inside.
I sure did, my own feet. I grab a cart from the corral.
“I’ll push the cart and you can get what’s needed for our dinner,” he says. “Remember the list?”
I pull it out of my pocket and hold it up. “I got it.”
He grins at me, hooking his cane over the handle of the basket before placing his hands on it. We walk through the store, putting the things on our list in the basket. We get to the turkeys, and I turn to him.
“I was thinking, since it’s only two of us, do we want to do Cornish game hens or a turkey breast? I know we don’t want to do a whole turkey for just the two of us. You’ll be coming to dinner over the weekend so we can finish what’s left.”
His eyes are amused as he fixes me with a stare. “Oh, really? What if I have plans?”
“Cancel them. Cleaning out my fridge is more important,” I joke. Then the smile leaves my face. “But if you really have plans…”
“I don’t. Just teasing. I’ll be happy to come over for dinner next weekend to help you clean out your fridge. I can’t wait.”
He leans in and removes a stray hair from my face. I feel my face warm, and I turn around to continue our shopping trip.
Finally, we have everything on our list and go to the checkout. I stand in front of the cart and put our things on the conveyor belt, then step forward and out of the way so Dominic can move the cart forward, along with himself. The cashier notices him, and a small blush appears on her cheeks. She continues to scan our items, sneaking peeks at him the whole time. Dominic either doesn’t notice or is ignoring her.
A bagger approaches, and I move out of the way. I push the basket toward him, pulling Dominic’s cane off, holding it until he needs it. The way the girl gazes at him through her eyelashes makes something fizzle in my stomach.
I look quickly back and forth between them, not knowing what I’m looking for. Her voice changes, getting lower and sexier as she tells Dominic the total. He hands her the cash, and she runs her hands over his when she takes it. Dominic notices and looks up at her with a frown. She gives him a sultry smile and hands him his change and a card.
“You can call me anytime.”
He looks at the card and hands it back to her, then walks over to me and takes his cane. He places his hand on my back again, guiding me out the door with the bagger following us out to the car.
My shoulders slump in relief. What was that? I look at Dominic from the sides of my eyes. His features are set and he’s looking straight ahead. He presses the release on the trunk. While the bagger puts our things in the trunk, he escorts me to the door, opening it.
I touch his arm, finding his muscles tense. “Are you okay?” I ask softly.
His hand reaches up and softly touches my chin. He nods and indicates the bagger putting the groceries in the trunk. He settles me in the seat of the car and closes the door behind me. I see him hand the guy a tip before making his way back around the car, getting inside.
He puts on his seatbelt, sighing, and starts the car. “She definitely saw that you were there with me, but still acted like she did. I can’t respect a woman like that.”
“Maybe she caught our friend vibe?” I shrug. My body settles as I speak to him.
“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t know either of us. It’s about respecting another woman instead of hitting on whoever is with her. If a guy took her up on what she’s offering, he would do the same thing to her eventually. A woman needs to have respect for herself as well. What she did was low and tacky,” he grumbles.
I giggle, putting my hand on his arm. “Calm down. I’ll be happy to defend your virtue if needed.”
He glances at me quickly before turning his eyes back to the road, and bursts out laughing, “Nice to know.” I notice his muscles relax. “How about after we put the groceries away, I take you out to lunch?”
“Okay. Sounds good.” The butterflies have returned.
We reach my apartment building and carry as many groceries as we can upstairs so we don’t have to make a second trip. Laden with groceries, we step onto the elevator.
“How do we press the button?” I look at him. “Do you have an extra finger?”
I watch him do some kind of hand-gymnastics to lift his cane and press the button for my floor.
“Crap. Now I have to get my keys,” I mumble.
“Just put the bags on the floor in front of your door and get your keys. I can run inside and put what I have down, then come back to get the rest. Your neighbors aren’t thieves, are they?”
I shrug. “I don’t know my neighbors. I hope not.”
His eyes widen for a second, but he doesn’t say anything.
When we reach my door, I put the bags down and unlock it, walking inside with Dominic following me. He sets the groceries down on my small dining room table and quickly goes back to the front door, picking up the rest of the groceries. We make quick work of putting them away, then go back to the car.
“Where are we going for lunch?” I ask as he pulls out of the lot.
“Your work,” he says. I turn to glare at him, and he laughs. “Just kidding. There’s a small diner up the street that has pretty good food. We’re going there.”
“How do you know about the diner?” I ask, curious how he knows this area.
“My parents loved the place and we went there all the time when I was little. I still go every now and then,” he says.
I open my mouth to ask, and close it. It would be too intrusive for me to ask that question.
Instead, I ask, “What’s your favorite meal there?”
“I love their patty melts. They’re amazing. They put Havarti and Gouda on them. My stomach is growling just thinking about it.” He licks his lips.
I laugh. “I can’t wait!”
Shortly after, he pulls into the parking lot and finds a spot. We walk inside the spotless diner. It has a fifties vibe. The tile floors gleam like they’ve just been waxed. The sparkly red and silver vinyl booths are immaculate. There’s a jukebox on every table. The waitresses are carrying food while on skates. I take in the restaurant with my mouth open. This is amazing!
Dominic reaches over and taps my chin, silently telling me to close my mouth. “There’s a booth over there.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me to the table. I slide into the booth, and Dominic slides into the other side. He reaches to the end of the table, grabbing a couple of menus, handing me one.
I look at the menu, and they have a variety of sandwiches. The waitress approaches the table and we give her our whole order. Dominic orders the patty melt that he loves so much, and I get the Havarti turkey sandwich with garlic mayonnaise. Our waitress walks away to put in our order.
Dominic looks at me with amusement in his eyes again. “Aren’t you going to be tired of turkey by the time Thanksgiving comes?”
I shake my head, smiling. “Never! I’m a turkey connoisseur. I could eat turkey every day for every meal.”
“You like turkey that much, huh?”
I nod. “I like turkey that much.”
He laughs, and we continue our conversation, talking about the types of different foods we like, through lunch. We finish eating, and he takes me home, insisting on walking me to my door to make sure I get inside safely. I spend the rest of the evening organizing my kitchen and refrigerator for all the food that will be stored in it next week. The smile doesn’t leave my face.
Dominic
The time I spent with her today fills me in ways I could never have imagined. When it’s time to drop her off, I want just a little bit more time with her. I insist on walking her to her door. She tries to wave me off, but I won’t have it. We ride the elevator in silence until the door opens.
She turns to me before getting off the elevator. “You don’t have to walk me all the way to my door. You can see it from here. See?” She points to her door down the hall, facing the elevator.
I shake my head, “All the way to your door.”
She looks perplexed, and I hide a smile. I place my hand on her back and urge her toward the front door. The tingles radiating from her back to my hand start immediately, moving up my arm. They create a warmth though my body that I’ve never felt before. I want to leave my hand there forever.
We reach her door, and she unlocks it, opening it before turning back to me. My arm feels suddenly cold without her to hold on to.
“This is it. I’ll see you Monday?”
I nod.
“Do you want to come in and hang out for a while?” She raises her eyebrows.
I resist the strong urge to follow her inside. “N–no. I have a couple of things to do this afternoon. I’ll see you later.” I push her inside, and she turns around, tilting her head at me.
“Okay, see you later. Bye.”
She waves at me, waiting for me to walk away, but I stand and look at her. “What?”
“Close the door,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “You saw me to my door. I want to watch you walk to the elevator and get inside, then I’ll close my door. It’s the least I can do after the fun day you’ve given me.”
“But how will I know that you’re safely inside if you watch me until I get on the elevator?” I ask. “Anything could happen.”
“My door is a straight shot to the elevator. As soon as you walk inside, you’ll turn around and I’ll be looking directly at you. We can see each other, and you can watch me close the door,” she reasons.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly.
She shoos me in the direction of the elevator, mirth marking her beautiful features. I walk to the elevator and press the button. It opens immediately, and I step inside. I press the button for the lobby as I turn around, looking directly at her. She gives me a smile and a wave, closing her door behind her. I hear the click of her door locking before the elevator door closes.
4
Maia
The next few days go by quickly. The days leading to Thanksgiving are the busiest at work. I end up staying later due to the crowd. Dominic doesn’t seem pleased, but he’s there every night and escorts me to my car when I get off work. We’ve graduated from texting to talking on the phone in the evenings. Hearing his voice helps me relax before I go to bed.
I spend my days preparing for our small feast, and he asks for an update every evening when he comes in to eat. I let him know what I’ve prepared, and he asks if I need help. We do the same thing all week. Tina gives me a knowing smile every time I look at her. I wonder what she knows that I don’t.
“I can’t wait until Saturday. We’re still doing lunch, right?” Tina asks.
“Yep. I’m excited too,” I tell her. It’ll be my second outing with someone I consider a friend.
“You two are going out to lunch?” Miranda asks as she walks over to us.
“We want to come,” Emma chimes in, following her.
I sigh and look at them both, then at Tina. She gives me a small nod and turns to them.
“This is a lunch just for us. You can come next time.”
“Why can’t we come?” Emma asks.
“Because we’re going to a bar, and you’re underage,” Tina challenges her.
“But—” Miranda starts.
“We’re not changing the venue. The next time we go out, we’ll go someplace where you’ll be able to join us,” Tina states firmly.
They both mumble and walk away as my shoulders slump in relief. I continue my side-work so I can go home and get some rest before getting up early to finish our Thanksgiving dinner.
Tina looks around to make sure they’re really gone before talking again. “How’s dinner coming along?”
“Great! I’ve prepared everything I can for now. Tomorrow I just have to put everything in the oven. We’ll have a nice Thanksgiving dinner by the time he arrives.”
Knots start to form in my stomach. What if he doesn’t like my cooking? I frown and put my hand on my stomach.
“Everything will be fine. He’ll like anything you cook,” Tina says, seeming to read my mind.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Miranda and Emma come around the corner again. “Hurry up. He’s waiting for you. You don’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” Miranda asks.
“I wouldn’t. As tarnished as he is, he’s also hot. I’d be happy to have him walk me to my car every night.” Emma wags her eyebrows, and the knots in my stomach get larger.
“Go ahead. I’ll finish for you.” Tina shoos me away.
“Thanks, Tina. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Can’t wait!” She pats my back. “I’ll call you Friday, okay?”
I nod and wave, getting my things together.
I step out into the dining room, and Dominic is standing by the door, waiting for me in his usual spot, his cane sitting off to the side. I approach, and he stands up straight, grabbing his cane.
“Ready?”
I nod, and he places his hand on my elbow, urging me forward. “What time do you want me to come over tomorrow?”
“About two? It’ll be like a late lunch, and then we can rest and have some more for dinner. How does that sound?” I ask.
“Sounds like a plan. I can’t wait. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
I wake at seven a.m. with butterflies in my stomach. After I go through my morning routine and make myself a small breakfast, I start by putting the turkey breast in the oven and go from there.
By two p.m., everything's about ready and there's a knock on my door. I wipe my hands on my pants legs and take a deep breath before walking over to the door and opening it. Dominic is standing on the other side with a pecan pie in one hand and a bottle of wine under his arm. I take the pie and wine from him, inviting him inside. He's leaning on his cane, so his leg must be hurting today.
"Hi. Have a seat; dinner's almost ready." I nudge him toward the couch and head into the kitchen, putting the wine in the fridge and the pie on the table. I check on the potatoes and brussels sprouts before walking over to my small table. I won't be able to fit all the food on it, so I decide to make us plates and set them on the table for us.
I peek at him under my lashes. He hasn't said a word since I opened the door. He's watching me as I finish cooking our late lunch. I turn to him
as I set the table.
"Are you okay?"
He nods. "I'm fine."
"Is there a problem? You've been so quiet. I was just wondering if there's a problem of some type." I shrug. I hope he hasn't made different plans.
"I'm sorry. My leg is bothering me more than usual today. I'm sorry to be a downer." His hand is absently rubbing his leg.
"You're not a downer. You kind of scared me for a minute. Is there something I can do to help?”
I step a little closer to him.
He shakes his head. "I just need to elevate it. It'll be fine."
"I'm sorry. I would have understood if you couldn't come today." I frown.
"No way. I wouldn't have missed this for the world. I can't wait to eat. When will it be ready?"
"In about five minutes. Since my table is so small, I'm going to make plates for us and bring them through to the table. If you want more, I'll be happy to fix it for you." I indicate the plates on the newly set table.
He nods. "That will work. I appreciate it."
I pull the wine out of the fridge, and it has a top that needs a corkscrew. I turn to him, indicating the bottle in my hands. "I don't have a bottle opener for this. I've never had wine before. I’ve never had a reason to drink any, thinking drinking alone equals a problem."
"I have one in my pocket." He pulls the corkscrew out of his pocket and waves me over. "I'll open it, since you've done so much already."
I hand him the bottle of wine, and he shows me how to open it. It looks so easy; the cork pops right out. He hands the bottle back to me, and I set it on the table. After taking out the last of the food, I ask what he wants on his plate. He advises me that he wants some of everything. I put a little of everything on his plate and mine, then take them both over to the table.
"Come on, it's ready." I smile and wave him over.
As he walks over, I pull out the third chair and place a pillow on it. When he sits down, I lift his leg and place it on the chair. "Will this work?"