Love on the Air(27)

Rick switched gears. "So, what would you be doing tonight if you weren't watching an ancient monster movie?"

She chuckled. "Probably watching something every bit as old. Cary Grant, or Jimmy Stewart."

"What is it with you and the past? Everything you like was before you were born."

"Before my parents were born," she amended. "Want to hear a dumb story?"

"Sure."

"It all started with a song on the radio."

Rick laughed. "It figures."

She looked down at her cup. "I wasn't the most sociable kid," she confessed. "I spent a lot of time in my bedroom, until I was about sixteen. My big hobby was taping songs off the radio. When I got tired of one station, I'd find another one, until I burned out on all their songs, too. So one day I ran across that old song, `Key Largo.' You know, the one with all the lyrics about Bogie and Bacall."

"Sure." He was watching her with a bemused smile. "We put it on the play list at the station every once in a while."

"I guess I just got curious. Remember, this is a sixteen-year-old girl with no life." She laughed selfconsciously. "So I tracked down the movie, and I loved it. Then someone told me the lyrics had more to do with Casablanca, so I watched that, and that was even better. Best movie ever made."

"No," Rick said, "the best movie ever made is The Godfather."

She raised her chin. "You just say that because you're a man. Anyway, after that, I was chasing down Humphrey Bogart movies. Then I started watching the classic movie channels. You were dead on when you teased me about the happy sailor movies. When I heard the old forties music, I was floored. See, one thing kept leading to another. I guess I found out that the more different things you like, the more there is to-" she shrugged, "-like."

He was still smiling. He probably thought she was ridiculous. "That still doesn't explain the country music."

"That, I got from my dad."

There was a brief silence. Rick's smile disappeared. "When did he die?"

She hadn't expected the question. She looked down at her cup again, examining the progressive rings of froth leading down the sides. "How did you know?"

"I picked it up."

She swirled the cup in front of her. "My freshman year in college. Right before Christmas. I figure I was right in the middle of a final when he had a heart attack. No warning." She glanced up at Rick, but the gray eyes were too direct. She had to look back down. "The thing is, I didn't really know him. I was busy being a teenager with the bedroom door closed. And then I went to college. I always think if I'd had a couple more years..."

"So that's why the car." She peeked up again. This time he was smiling, gently. "Don't get me wrong, it's the perfect DJ-mobile. But I couldn't figure out why a loan processor didn't have something newer." He put his hand on the table, letting it rest an inch from hers. "Look, whatever you and your dad didn't say, the car says volumes."

"I know. That's why I keep it running. But even Toyotas don't last forever." She bit her lip.

"So, yours could be the first." His hand inched closer, to squeeze hers. Then he let go, as if any further contact could make them both burst into flames.

No flames at the moment. But his hand did leave behind a feeling of warmth. Christie lifted her own hand from the table.

"Where's your mother now?" he asked.

"She moved to Colorado. We've got lots of family there." She was starting to sound like an abandoned orphan, and that wasn't what she wanted. She shifted the subject back to Rick. "How about your family? Still intact?"

"All alive and well in northern California. I kind of worked my way south. Although they've never understood about the radio thing. My brother still says I was seduced by the dark side."

"What does he do?"

"Investment banker."

Christie acted out a shudder. "I've seen enough three-piece suits to last me the rest of my life."

"He's not so bad. Plus, it's hard to take anyone too seriously when they used to pour sand in your hair."

From that point on, things were back to normal. They talked for another half hour before Christie stood to go.

Reflexively, Rick stood, too. "I'll walk you out."

He probably should have let her go out alone, he thought, but his ingrained manners wouldn't let him. At least that was what he told himself. All he knew was that it was harder than ever to keep his hands to himself; it seemed only natural to reach for her as they walked through the cool California night. Getting out of his apartment should have helped. Instead, it brought back memories of the whole high school dating thing, and all those hesitant front-porch kisses.