Blue Roses(17)

But time takes away everything.





Chapter 11





Rory shows up at my place on Saturday afternoon. She lugs in enough food to cater a party of ten.

“This is way too much,” I tell her. “I’m only cooking dinner for myself and Luca.”

“Tell me more about this meal that you’re cooking, all by yourself.”

I chuckle. “Okay, fine. But just so you know, he’s a big guy, but he’s not that big.”

“Use the leftovers to make sandwiches.” She reaches into a canvas bag and pulls out what appears to be half a cow.

“Sandwiches? Sure. I’ll just use those ten loaves of bread I always keep in the house.”

“Ha ha.” She rolls her eyes.

I help her unload the other groceries, keeping an eye on the roast in case it tries to make a getaway.

There’s very little counter space in the micro-sized kitchen, so I haul the table closer for a makeshift prep area.

“What’s all this crunchy dust?” Rory asks, scowling at the table surface.

“Housekeeper’s day off,” I joke, grabbing a cloth to give it a quick wipe. The crunchy dust is from one of the dried rose petals.

After my ritual on Wednesday night, I left everything out, right up until an hour ago. Unfortunately, the sun streaming in the window degraded the rose, and two petals fell off. I’ll have to be more careful from now on.

“I have something to tell you,” Rory says.

“Oh?” I get out the cutting board and start chopping carrots.

She whispers something so softly I can’t hear it.

I turn to find her pressing her lips together tightly, her face red with effort. What is she up to?

She whispers the word again. “Panties.”

I almost laugh, but catch myself.

She says it again, louder. “Panties.”

“That’s great, Rory! You’re making so much progress. Is this from the hypnosis tapes?”

She shakes her head, no.

“Did my sister drag you to her support group?”

She shakes her head, no. She’s grinning, like this is a new game for her.

I ask, “Can you say any of the other no-no words besides panties?”

“No.”

“That’s still really good, Rory. I’d hug you right now, if it wouldn’t send you screaming for the hills.”

She gives me a serious look. “I’m still not normal. I’ll never be normal.” She grabs some herbs and tosses them my way. “Now get to work, or date number four will be the one where you serve raw meat and carrot sticks.”

“Yes, Captain.”

For the next hour, we chop and sear and baste.

Rory works for a caterer, so making a gourmet meal is well within her skills. I don’t know what I was thinking when I offered to make Luca dinner.

Actually, I was probably thinking about the things Cosmopolitan magazine promises will happen on the fourth date.

Sex.

Right over there, on my fold-out sofabed.

That is, assuming I still remember how it’s done.

I look over at Rory and sigh. I wish I could talk to her about how I’m feeling right now, but she can’t handle any discussion of sex.

With my last boyfriend, I wasn’t this nervous. I can’t even remember what our first time was like, or even the last time. It was all just a blur of awkward grinding and apologies.

Oh, no. What if Luca is terrible at sex? What if that’s the reason he kept sending women flowers? What if he does some horrible, disgusting thing that makes them never want to see him again?

Rory stands up from checking the roast in the oven and looks at me. “Now what?” she asks. “You look like you’re going to throw up.”

“It’s our fourth date. That’s the date where people traditionally… play Scrabble.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks get pink, but she doesn’t run for the door. “And do you want that to happen?”

“Yes, but I’m worried that maybe he’s terrible at Scrabble. Like he puts the words in the wrong places, or he goes right for the triple word score immediately, instead of starting in the middle.”

She grabs the bottle of wine we were using for the sauce and pours a glass for me and one for her.

We take the glasses over to the couch and sit down.

She speaks carefully, “Maybe before you get the Scrabble board down from the closet, you should be very clear with him about the house rules.”

“As far as I know, I prefer the standard rules. Nothing fancy.”

She glugs down half her glass, then takes a deep breath.

“Have you guys played any warm-up games before tonight? Did you two… share the crossword puzzle?”

“Is that one you do with your hand, or is it more verbal?”

She covers her flushing face with her hand.