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A murderer.
Turning away from her, I shut my eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath. I was fine. I was safe. He could not hurt me.
“The biggest offense of the aforementioned frozen burrito,” she said in a solemn voice, “is the way they’re scalding hot from the microwave yet soggy at the same time.”
“You have to put them in the oven.” I lifted my chin and spoke in a high voice, doing my best imitation of a fussy, snobby chef. “For exactly six minutes at four hundred degrees Fahrenheit.”
Smiling, she leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “Do you know what I think?”
“What’s that?” I poured, or rather, opened the spout on the box of wine and filled one glass and then the other. I gave her the good one with the tapered sides.
“Eating a frozen burrito with you is preferable to eating a steak with just about anyone else in the world.”
That stunned me. I was actually speechless for a moment. I swallowed, flustered and shy and completely unable to take a compliment of that magnitude with any kind of grace. “That’s sweet. Really sweet.”
Her face fell. “Sometimes I’m a littleextra,” she said apologetically. “I embarrassed you. I’m too bold. I push men away because of it.”
“No, it was not too bold. It was nice and it made me feel good. And if pressed, I would admit to feeling the same way about you. That said, I hope this pizza isn’t terrible. It’s all I could think of to make on short notice.” It was hard to court a beautiful young woman on a budget. “I could have ordered one, but they’re so much more expensive than this.”
“It looks just fine to me. You shouldn’t feel like you have to be a gourmet cook around me. I like hot dogs as much as the next girl.”
“Hot dogs good. Burritos bad. Got it.” I pretended to write that information onto a list. “I’m a philistine, if you haven’t noticed.”
“A philistine who likes to dance? If anything, you’re an enigma.” Jamie settled at my rickety kitchen table in one of the mismatched chairs. They, too, were bought at various yard sales. I’d gotten the one with the red velvet cushion first. The second was Amish style and sat slightly lower than the other. At the time, I hadn’t thought I’d need more than two. Really, more than one was one too many. Tonight, though, I had the prettiest girl in town sitting there smiling at me.
“People are complicated. I’m frugal and love to dance and painfully aware of how my apartment must look to you.” I gestured toward the living room.
“I like that you’re frugal,” Jamie said. “You reuse things, which is a great quality, especially in these times of ‘newer is always better.’ Most people have too much stuff they don’t use. As far as your apartment goes, you’re a single man with a busy job and a tight budget. How else is it supposed to look?”
“That makes me feel a lot better. I’ve been looking around and seeing only flaws.”
“Ah yes, the old ‘what do they see’ and ‘why didn’t I see it and fix it before people came over’ thing.”
“Exactly.” We grinned at each other before I broke away to cut our pizza.
“Although next time, I’ll make you some of my homemade pizza. I can guarantee you’ll like it.”
I like you,I thought.So much.
* * *
We’d finishedour pizza and were sitting on the couch going over some of our backgrounds and pasts in preparation for our double date the next evening. So far, Jamie had told me about her one brother, Trey. He lived in Cliffside Bay with his wife, Autumn, and their growing family. They now had two little girls, only a few years apart, and living the good life. I’d already told her my story about my father and that I had no siblings. We covered college—she went to San Diego State. I went to Santa Cruz for my undergraduate and UCLA for my graduate studies. She’d grown up in the same house all her life until her mother had to sell it after the divorce. “Traumatic but necessary,” Jamie said. “Now my mom’s in Cliffside Bay. We were renting an apartment but after I left, she found a house to buy. I think she has a boyfriend even though she won’t say the word—calls him her friend Ray. They’re in Europe right now.”
“Suspicious,” I said.
She placed her hand against one cheek and cocked her head to the side. “Hey, I saw the sentencing.”
“Oh, yeah. I saw that too.”
“Are you okay?” Jamie asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I glanced out the window. The daylight had completely faded by then. Lights along Barnes Avenue sparkled from the trees. They kept them up all year. In snow or rain or warm summer nights, they cheered me. “I don’t know what I am. Numb, mostly.”
“I can imagine.”
She sat on one end of the couch and I on the other. I crossed my legs and tapped my bare ankle. I hadn’t worn socks and now wished I had. Why hadn’t I? Shoes were what grown-ups wear. Jamie needed someone sophisticated. My bare feet with faded jeans and a T-shirt with last year’s Emerson Pass Summer Festival logo displayed on the back wouldn’t be considered such.
“Did I lose you?” Jamie asked.
