by Aj Harmon
With it being August, she opted for a strapless teal green with tiny white polka dots calf length chiffon dress. She’d bought it a year ago and still hadn’t worn it. This seemed as good a night as any to rip off the plastic bag and cut off the price tag. She slipped silver gladiator sandals on her feet and a bunch of silver bangles on her arm. She left her hair straight and lined her eyes a little darker than usual, adding red lipstick to finish off the look.
As she stood in the mirror critiquing the reflection staring back at her, she wondered if she should perhaps hit a tanning salon to get a bit of color. But she didn’t have the opportunity to consider her thought because there was a knock at the door. She hurried through the living room and opened the door to see David dressed in a black suit and pale mint green dress shirt. He wasn’t wearing a tie; the buttons at his neck were open.
“Hi,” he smiled. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m going for the porcelain look.”
“You’re rockin’ it,” he grinned. “Ready to go?” He was still in his sunglasses, obviously not expecting to be invited in.
“Yep,” she answered and stepped into the hallway, closing and locking the door behind her.
“You like Italian, right?”
“Love Italian,” she replied.
“Great! Let’s go eat then.” He took her hand in his and pulled her out into the humid New York air.
*****
Red and white checkered tablecloths were the first thing Lindsey saw as they entered the nondescript restaurant. Sconces lined the dark walls and Dean Martin’s smooth voice wafted through the air. The hostess seated them in a booth and the small candle flickered in the glass hurricane on the table. A white linen napkin held a knife and two forks and ice water and a basket of crunchy breadsticks were quickly delivered to them by a young man in black pants and white collared shirt.
“It’s hard to pick a restaurant when your date is a chef,” David chuckled. “But my sister-in-law, Janie, assured me that this was a good place to come.”
A date? The word took Lindsey by surprise. “I love to try new places,” she replied. “So…what’s Lou doing in Los Angeles?”
David grabbed a long breadstick from the basket and took a crunchy bite. “She’s been hired to do a mural in a salon for some big shot hair guy.”
“Wow! That sounds pretty cool.”
“Yeah it is, considering that just a few months ago she was harassing strangers on the sidewalk trying to sell her art. It’s amazing what she’s accomplished in such a short time. And she deserves every bit of it. She’s exceptionally talented.”
Lindsey could see the…the pride in his eyes as he spoke.
“That’s great for her, and you.”
“Eh, not me. I just offered to show her work and people like you immediately recognized her skill and talent.”
“People like me?”
“Well you bought one of her pieces…on the first night of the opening. And you weren’t the only one. I can’t believe how quickly they sold.”
“Oh, right,” Lindsey nodded. It was irritating that she had to pretend she owned a Lou original.
“Anyway, we didn’t come here to talk about Lou,” David smiled. “How was work this week?”
They fell into easy conversation about the weeks’ highs and lows. The waitress came and helped them decide what looked good.
“I came here once years ago for Matt and Janie’s rehearsal dinner,” he said to the waitress. “You guys served some delicious stuff.”
She smiled and wrote down their orders and disappeared into the back. Lindsey fidgeted with the fabric of her dress.
“I’ve missed you,” David said out of the blue.
Lindsey’s head whipped up to look at him.
“Saturdays just aren’t the same without our lessons. I realized that all week long I looked forward to you coming over. My weekends are boring now,” he chuckled.
“Well you can still cook on Saturdays, you know.”
“I know. And I do. It’s just not as fun.”
The waitress returned with their salads and topped of their water glasses. The moment was gone.
*****
“Any dessert?” she asked at as she cleaned the dishes from the table.
Lindsey shook her head. “None for me thanks. I’m stuffed! It was really good,” she smiled.
“And coming from her that’s a real compliment,” David said. “Just the check, thanks.”
Lindsey folded her napkin and placed it on the table. Dinner had been delicious.
“There’s something about pasta that’s very comforting,” she said. “I think that’s why everyone in Italy seems happy.”
“You’ve been to Italy?” David asked.
“A couple of times. It’s much easier for me to understand the food if I’ve experienced it first hand; experienced the culture.”
David tilted his head and nodded. Lindsey continued.
“I stayed in this villa in the middle of a vineyard for a week. It was awesome! I saw the process of making wine and cheese, real old school style, the way they’d been doing it for generations. And I picked fresh tomatoes and basil from the garden and cooked with it and I learned so much about the culture and it really influenced that way I cooked after that.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It was exactly what I needed. My divorce had just been finalized and I’d only been working for Aaron for a little while but he encouraged me to go to get my head, and my heart, in a good place and it worked. I came back rested and focused and the drive was there to see just how much I could accomplish.”
“Sounds like the perfect prescription,” David agreed.
The bill arrived in a small black leather folder. David pulled a credit card from his wallet and placed it on the table.
“This was a lot of fun,” he smiled. “We should do it again.”
The waitress arrived before Lindsey had the opportunity to respond, so she just excused herself and found the restroom.
She was confused…torn…feeling guilty. She’d had a wonderful time. It was so easy to talk to him. They never had those awkward silences. Everything just flowed naturally. And he’d said it was a date. And he spoke about Lou with pride, but no other emotion. She stared at herself in the mirror. He wants to do this again.
She took a deep breath and casually strolled back to the table. David was standing waiting for her. He placed his hand in the small of her back and led her out onto the sidewalk. They began walking, David’s hand still on her, making her very conscious of the tingles running up and down her spine. He obviously had no idea what kind of effect his gentle touch was having on her.
As he hailed the oncoming cab, he stepped away from her but the tingling didn’t stop. He held the door as she slid into the backseat and he followed in behind her and gave the driver her address. Traffic was unusually light and it didn’t take them long at all before the cab pulled in front of her building.
“Would you like to come up for coffee?” she asked with a slight hesitation in her voice.
“I would! Thank you.”
*****
Lindsey’s apartment was small, except for the kitchen.
“I combined the old tiny kitchen and the dining room and made it a large kitchen,” she explained as she started the coffee maker. “I can sit and eat anywhere, but I needed my stove,” she chuckled.
David looked at the massive stainless steel appliance. It had to be twice the size of the stove he had in his kitchen and it had six burners and some kind of grill. “Impressive,” he nodded.
“Well, I like to cook,” she winked.
The aroma of coffee started to fill the air and the dark drops of liquid began filling the pot. Lindsey took two mugs from a cupboard and pulled a box of half and half from the door of the fridge.
“Sugar?” she asked.
David shook his head. “Cream’s good. May I use your bathroom?”
The room was average size, painted a soft pink with a large ceiling fan overhead. The bed took up a lot of the space and was covered in a chocolate brown comforter. Standing in her bedroom felt a little like trespassing, so he looked for the door to the bathroom. It was behind him. As he turned to the left, he froze. He was staring at his own drawing.
15.
He sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the charcoal drawing in front of him. This was one of his favorites. He’d drawn it years ago after walking by a man cold and alone in a doorway. He’d stopped several yards away and had turned back and watched the countless people walk past him, never giving him a first glance, let alone a second. He seemed to be invisible to all around him.
David had gone back and knelt in front of him, offering all the cash he had on him. The man had smiled and pulled a five dollar bill from the wad David had pushed in front of him. ‘Thank you’ was all he’d said. The next day David had gone back to look for him but he’d gone and David had always wondered what had happened to him. After several weeks of the man’s face appearing in his dreams, David had put it on paper, the result hanging in front of him now.
He’d grudgingly selected it from his stack for the gallery because the others had all seemed too personal. At least he didn’t know this man, yet, it was probably one of the more emotional sketches he’d done. And it was the one Lindsey had selected to buy.
But she told me she’d bought one of Lou’s, he wondered. Why would she do that? David quickly washed his hands and dried them on the chocolate colored hand towels that hung next to the sink. He slowly made his way back to Lindsey.
She’d put his cup of coffee on the table in front of the sofa and was curled into the armchair opposite.
“I added a splash of cream,” she smiled.
David nodded and sat on the edge of the cushion and reached for the cup. He looked up at Lindsey, her head bowed, her hair covering her eyes.
“We’re friends, right?” he asked.
That got her attention. She looked at him through her long lashes and nodded, “Of course we are.” A hint of a smile was on her lips.
“So we could tell each other the truth right?”
She nodded. He took a sip of his coffee and carefully replaced the cup on the table. He stood and walked to the window. He could see the room mirrored in the dark glass. He watched her as he spoke again.
“So where did you hang the painting?”
“What painting?” she looked confused.
“Lou’s painting. How do you keep forgetting about it,” he chuckled.
“Oh.” She looked flustered. “Umm, I haven’t hung it yet.”
David swung back to face her. “I could do it for you while I’m here. I’m very good at hanging pictures,” he grinned.
She didn’t answer. He felt mean. He didn’t want to be mean to her. He loved her.
“Are we more than friends?” he asked softly.
Lindsey looked up. He was now standing in front of her, looking down.
“Lou,” she whispered.
He looked confused. His forehead had wrinkled and the sides of his mouth were turned slightly downward. He exhaled loudly.
“Why are you always asking about Lou?” he asked.
“Why did you ask me on a date when you have a girlfriend?” she demanded.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“LOU!”
“Hold on.” He stepped backwards and his brain was working quickly to put all the pieces in place. He sat in front of her on the table. “You think Lou is my girlfriend?”
“Isn’t she?”
“No!” he laughed. “No!”
“She’s not?”
“No! I’m old enough to be her…her older brother!” he laughed. “She’s like a little sister. Definitely not a girlfriend.”
Lindsey sat on her heels, her hands wrapped around the hot mug, eyes wide open, watching David laugh and not knowing what to say.
“Oh,” she managed.
“But you went on a date with me thinking I had a girlfriend?”
“I didn’t think it was a date until you said it was a date. I thought it was just two friends having dinner.”
“Oh,” he frowned. “So you didn’t want to go on a date.”
“That’s not what I said,” she replied.
“You did want to go on a date but you didn’t think I’d asked you on a date?”
“This conversation is getting a bit ridiculous,” she muttered and climbed out of the chair.
“Because you’re hiding something.” He followed her into the kitchen.
“Great time to start being perceptive,” she mumbled to herself as she dumped her coffee down the sink.
David sat his mug on the counter and reached for her hand. As he held it in his, his thumb caressed her knuckles. She closed her eyes and tried to breath. He stepped in and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you for a very enlightening evening,” he whispered into her chin. “Goodnight.”
*****
“Are you shitting me?” Mark rolled over and looked at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s fucking 1a.m.” He rolled out of bed and pulled a t-shirt over his head as he walked to the front door of his apartment.
Standing on the other side of the door was David who pushed past him as he opened the door.
“Somebody had better‘ve died,” Mark scowled as he closed the door and followed David to the living room.
“Can I have a beer?” David asked.
Mark looked at his younger brother and realized he needed to talk. “Yep,” he replied as he went to the kitchen.
David finished the bottle quickly and asked for another. Mark obliged, waiting for him to tell him what was wrong. All the brothers were close; they were best friends, but David had never shown up on his doorstep in the middle of the night before.
Eventually, David spoke. “So when does Katy get home?”
Mark chuckled. “I’m an old man, David. I need my sleep. I’m happy to talk to you about whatever brought you here at one o’clock, but I’m not doing the small talk.”
David nodded. “Fair enough.” He took another mouthful of beer and swallowed. “I took Lindsey to dinner tonight.”
“Must have gone well if you’re just getting here now.”
“I’ve been walking the past couple of hours. She bought one of my drawings at the gallery. She told me she’d bought one of Lou’s when she came to pick it up. She thought Lou was my girlfriend.” He took another mouthful. “I’m an idiot.”
“No argument here,” Mark grinned.
“I’m screwed,” David shook his head.
“Why?”
“I’m in love with her.”
“Yep. You’re screwed.”
*****
During one of his cooking lessons, Lindsey had told David that cooking for the people she loved was one of the ways she expressed her feelings. Growing up as she had, she had found it difficult to express emotion in words, so cooking had been an outlet for that, along with a multitude of others. Basically, she’d said cooking saved her life.
As he lay in bed on Saturday morning, a slight headache from the numerous bottles of beer he’d had at Mark’s, a plan formulated in his head. It was brilliant, he thought, but it would take planning and it would probably take some help. The first person he thought of was Janie, Matt’s wife, but they’d left for their vacation home in the Bahamas. His second choice, Katy, was still in Boston with Shelby. Nic was suffering from a pretty bad case of morning sickness at the moment, so she was out.
“Damn!” he muttered. That just left his mother.
*****
Sunday was a much smaller affair than normal at the Lathem family home. Matt and Janie were on vacation, Katy was still in Boston, Ben was out of town on business, Tim was working, and Nic was home
sick with Paul catering to her every need.
As David helped his mother clear the dinner dishes, he broached the request of her help carefully.
“I was planning on cooking a dinner for a friend of mine and wondered if you might be able to help me…just a bit.”
“Which friend?” she asked as she rinsed off plates and loaded them into the dishwasher.
“I don’t think you know her.” Shit!
“Her?” Maureen straightened and swung to face her son.
Shit! He thought again. “Lindsey.”
“Lovely girl,” she smiled. “You’ve made a wise choice David. I’m very happy.”
“No mom, it’s not like that.”
“Sure it isn’t,” she grinned.
Think fast! “I just wanted to say thank you for all the lessons.”
“Mmm hmmm,” she winked at him. “I’d be happy to help. What do you need?”
“Can you go grocery shopping with me on Thursday?”
“Of course. Is that all?”
“I hope so,” he said to himself.
16.
Lindsey had been surprised to get David’s call on Sunday morning. She wasn’t sure how they’d left things after their date on Friday.
On Saturday evening, she’d gone to Trudy’s for dinner. Trevor had been admitted to the sleep center in the hospital to get his sleep apnea machine adjusted properly.
“It’s a relief to have a night without him snoring like a freight train,” she’d sighed. “That machine is supposed to help with the snoring, but it hasn’t been.”
“Can I help you?” Lindsey asked.
“Nah, I’m fine,” smiled Trudy as she’d finished mashing the potatoes. “Well, how about you carve the chicken?”
“Sure,” Lindsey smiled and pulled the aluminum foil from the pan resting on the stove top. “Beer can chicken,” she chuckled.
“Why’s that funny?”
“This is one of the things I taught David to make.”
“It’s a staple in this house.”
“I know,” Lindsey had nodded as memories flooded her mind. “I remember.” She’d sharpened the knife and wiped it clean on the dish towel and had the bird cut into pieces and arranged on the platter in no time.
