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“Aye aye, mate!”
Melanie checked the lemon zest and parsley sauce she was making for the pasta.
“Smells delicious.” He leaned in over her shoulder.
Melanie could feel the warmth of his face so close to her cheek. It was odd. Odd in that it felt quite normal. “Get away,” she teased, “and pour us a glass of that lovely vintage.”
“I was letting it breathe.”
“It can hyperventilate in the glass,” she joked, and placed the fettuccini in the boiling water.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Set the table?”
By now, Gilmour had eaten enough meals at Melanie’s that he knew where the tableware was kept. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed very comfortable. Relaxed. Come to think of it, so was she.
Melanie fixed a green salad with fresh herbs, and removed the bread that was warming in the oven. Everything was on the table, ready to enjoy. “Mangia!” she called. The dogs’ ears perked up. “Do you speak Italian?”
“I think every living being reacts to the word!” Gilmour chuckled.
They talked about stuff. News. Politics. Movies. Music.
“I’m having brunch with Shannon tomorrow.”
“A sister-in-law outing?”
“Kinda. I can’t remember the last time I hung out with a woman my age. For fun.” Melanie described their plans.
“Good for you.”
“Yes. I need to get in her good graces before they start popping out kids. I want to be their favorite aunt.”
“Won’t you be their only aunt?”
“Only if Shannon’s brother decides to remain unmarried.”
“Is that on the horizon?”
“Doubtful. He just broke up with his girlfriend. Besides, he lives in Minneapolis. He has a huge job with a banking firm. I doubt he’ll be heading east any time soon.”
“Well, if I know you, you are sure to be their favorite aunt.”
When they finished dinner, they shared the cleanup and re-conned at the dining room table.
Melanie was the first to speak. “What’s the deal? I thought the next gig wasn’t coming up for a while.”
“They had to move it up, unless you’d like me to request a delay?”
“Funny.” She rested her elbows on the table, chin in hands.
He pulled out his pad and pen and braced himself for her reaction. “It’s Thursday.”
“Oh, come on!” Melanie groaned. “I’ve barely recovered from this last escapade.”
“There is a dinner at an exclusive club which is being hosted by a special envoy from France. Chatter is that diamonds from Zimbabwe were smuggled in, and they are going to be handed off to an insurgent group.”
“Insurgents? Here?” Melanie had thought domestic unrest was winding down.
