Chapter Four
Gio's first thought was that Betty looked nervous as she rapped on his door. His second was that she looked a little frightening bathed in the light from his neon sign. He supposed he could turn the neon lights off, but they added a subtle color to the interior that was less scary than being bathed in the light outside the deli.
He walked over and let Betty in, hoping that she liked the atmosphere he had created without her thinking it was too romantic for…whatever they were.
"Welcome back." His voice ended up coming out a little husky in line with his thoughts. Even now after a month he thought that it would be great if she could come around like this a few nights a week. He could cook for her, they would talk, they could enjoy one another's company, and then they'd head back home to his place. Ba da bing ba da boom.
Abruptly Gio realized he had completely missed whatever it was Betty had just said.
Sheepishly he said, "I'm sorry, I wasn't quite focused. Say again?"
She smiled at him. "Wool gathering much?"
"Dated phrase much?"
"I learned it from regency romance novels I read while on the road. It seemed fitting to read a couple of those. And the phrase is so great, did you know it comes from laborers who went to pick up wool from hedges where sheep had passed and pressed up against the hedges before them? And because the sheep didn't leave much wool behind it was considered a complete waste of time and therefore an activity that just sent your mind wandering?"
Gio just stared at her.
Betty grew anxious. "What? Do I have something on me?" She smoothed down her outfit and did a quick scan. Other than a small salad stain from lunch (the lunch that she had ended up picking up somewhere else since she never did get a sandwich from Gio's), she didn't see anything untoward. "What??"
"You are so weird sometimes. Cute, but weird." Gio smiled widely. "Do you have an encyclopedia that you refer to for bizarre facts?"
"You're the one who said not all sandwich guys are lunks."
"I did say that. But I don't know where the phrase wool gathering comes from, nor do I use it in everyday language. I think that went out of style about 150 years ago. And if you know exactly when it went out of style I think I'm going to have to come up with a new nickname for you."
"I'm in luck there. No knowledge, and thank God, no new nickname!"
Gio chuckled. "On that note, welcome to Casa Gio's!" He swept his arm around, showing off the lights, table and ambiance. Plus the gift he had placed next to Betty's plate.
"Gio, this looks fabulous! Wow! How did you have the time to do all of this?" Betty slowly twirled around, looking at all of the decorations in the small space.
"It really didn't take that long –"
"Look at all this food!"
"- and I was wondering why it was taking you so long to notice that."
"Oh my God, is this cured pastrami? And there's some yummy looking mustard right next to it. Oh, and a whole bottle of sun dried tomatoes!" She shoved her glasses up her nose in excitement, and in the process of trying to hunt down the aforementioned mustard she ended up knocking several bottles over.
Gio decided to rescue her before she caused more damage or ended up breaking everything he had prepared. Somehow he didn't doubt they had t-minus one minute to that if he didn't interfere.
"Okay B, grab the seat, we're going to get started."
They took their time. Gio took Betty on a tour of flavors, of combinations she hadn't imagined would work on a sandwich. Even the bread he had set out complimented the meats and sauces he had prepared. However, the best part was when she got to surprise him occasionally. She did know a thing or two about cooking, and though he was versed, he was still learning. So, she could surprise him with a combination that tended to be more spicy and salsa-ed than practiced and paired.
As they talked about their trips (he learned that she had her itinerary mapped out in a spreadsheet for the entire trip, she learned that he decided what he wanted to do every couple of days), the air around them sparkled. Neither took the time to recognize their easy camaraderie, instead just enjoying the conversation that had been a long time in coming. But while Gio was telling a funny story of how he managed to overcook pasta much to the chagrin of his visiting aunt, Betty started looking, really looking.
She took in the toothy smile as he was telling the story. The way he waved his hands to illustrate his embarrassment when he realized the pasta was overcooked. The way he confidently walked over to the counter to get more drinks when they had run out. He tended to saunter. They way conversation just didn't lull, except when they both felt like they wanted to savor the taste of something.
And that was when the Suarez Realization occurred. The one that would have Betty spinning several nights from now, and the one that was hinted at in a certain dream last night. This man was special. For all the gelled back hair, leather wristbands and beer, he was gentle, fun and smart. Betty was looking at someone multi-faceted whom she never would have expected to like only a short year ago.
She was growing up and becoming more of the woman she wanted to be – the woman who could look below the surface and see something lovable. Hence the reason she was drawn to Daniel. And Mrs. Meade.
The ringing of a cellphone interrupted Gio's story and Betty's mental analysis.
Gio waited a few seconds for Betty to pick up, and when she didn't asked, "Are you planning to answer that or just have it be background music to my story? I'm not quite sure the timing is right."
"I didn't want to interrupt you." Betty looked at the faceplate and sure enough – it was 10:10, and it was Hilda. She smiled – Hilda in true form. Coming through…though a little late. She hit the ignore button and said, "Just Hilda, I'll talk to her later."
"She's checking in on you?" Gio's eyebrows raised, he didn't think Hilda had any cause for concern.
"In a sense." Betty said mysteriously, then took a bite out of her roast beef, horseradish and cranberry mini sandwich.
"Are we being mysterious now?" Gio looked at Betty, catching a slight hint of something different, a slight awareness.
"She didn't leave me a voicemail though, that's odd."
"You avoided the question."
Betty's cellphone once again broke up the conversation and she looked down. Yup, Hilda. Okay, she wasn't going away. Betty flipped the face of the phone open.
"Yes, I'm still here, you can go to sleep now."
"It's only 10pm, what am I, Grandma Lupe?"
"Some people call that getting your beauty sleep."
"Those are people with no life."
Gio surreptitiously started picking up various plates, leaving Betty to her conversation.
"I'll be home later."
"Oooo…you're still there. If you don't come by and tell me what happened I'll hunt you down like I search out mustache hair."
"I promise."
"See you later." Betty could hear Hilda giggling as she hung up the phone. Shy her sister was not.
Betty tossed the phone in her bag, shaking her head at her sister's machinations to matchmake. As Hilda got older she became more like the other mother's in the neighborhood, though she would never admit it. Well, a hotter and funnier version of the other mother's, but a busybody no less.
"You okay there?" Gio made his way back to the table and brought the gift back – they had moved it earlier so that nothing would spill on it.
"Yeah, it was just Hilda being an older sister."
"Cut her some slack, she's good at it. I should know."
"Yeah, I know. Remember, I'm usually the responsible one."
"Yeah, but she gets you to take risks – she's good at the relationship stuff. I was the recipient of some of her advice months ago."
Betty looked inquiringly at him, hoping he would fill in that last statement, but she was to be mildly disappointed momentarily when he shoved something forward and said, "This is for you."
She looked down to see a notebook that looked full. The top section was a very nice black thick paper, quite textured to the touch – rough in some places.
"It's handmade paper, they make it in Venice." Gio noticed the way she ran her hands over the cover, it was almost like she was trying to feel the story inside. "Go on, open it."
The sheaf of paper that was contained within the two thicker pieces of black paper was hole punched and tied together with string on one end. Betty slowly opened the notebook, flipped through a few pages, and then gasped.
"Gio, this is amazing!" She didn't look up, instead continuing to flip through pages and paw through the items he had stuck to certain pages.
"I know I'm not as good of a writer as you, but I figured you'd want to hear about adventures in Italy, and what better way than to read my travel journal? Then as I wrote I realized I could ask for doubles of some of the items I picked up. So I ended up pasting them into your travel book, just as I did my copy."
Gio had photocopied the pages from his travel journal with the most interesting doodles, writings and scribbles. He had taken these pages and strung them together into a notebook. But on various pages between the written and drawn on pages, he had glued tickets, napkins, pasta pieces, photos, postcards – all items that reminded him of Italy and what he had gone through. All in all it wasn't too long, but it was a "Gio" work of art, like the sandwiches he created.
"I can't wait to read it, I'm honored that you chose to share this with me." Betty closed the book's cover, knowing that if she started reading she would never want to stop until she was finished.
Gio's head ducked, and his sheepish smile emerged as he glanced back up at Betty. "Well, you did encourage me to start my five year plan, so I have to show you my progress. Almost like a report card. Do I pass?"
"You more than pass, and as a reward, you get to see what I brought you." Betty handed him a well-wrapped package (figures). Gio noticed that the blue wrapping had British flags scattered on it.
"It's not something edible is it? I hear the English have horrible taste in food." He shook the package, resorting to how he normally opened Christmas presents: slowly. For some reason he liked to torture himself with anticipation.
"I'm not giving you any hints. You have to do the work yourself." Betty crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to break into the package.
Gio took the ribbon and tape off slowly, hearing his heart beating in his chest. Somehow this gift exchange felt a little more personal than he was anticipating it to be. Again he glanced at Betty, noting that there was almost a new awareness in her eyes, and it made him nervous. There were more layers to her than he knew about.
"You have the patience of a saint! I unwrap presents faster than you do, and I recycle the paper!" Betty exasperatedly reached across the table to take the ribbon and tape from him.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let me enjoy my gift please? Haven't you ever heard that savoring the moment makes everything so much better?" He winked at her as he pulled aside the final piece of paper.
Great minds apparently thought alike. Betty's gift to Gio was an older edition copy of Romeo and Juliet. Not too exorbitantly early – there was no way she could afford that – but old enough that he knew that she hadn't just picked it up at the local equivalent of Barnes and Noble.
"Look through the book…"
Gio followed instructions and flipped through the pages to see what she had done. Every several pages she had inserted pieces of paper with notes about the local food. Everything from the snacks she had from the street vendors, to her meals at night with the tour. Anything that was slightly new and different in her culinary world (example: different types of Indian curry) she had written about.
Betty cleared her throat. "I thought you'd get a kick out of hearing about English food, even if it's not edible."
"Betty, this is…so amazingly thoughtful. Thank you."
They gazed at one another across a table with food that had cooled twenty minutes ago, each noting that the other looked slightly goofy. For Betty it was the growing awareness that this man might be someone that she could truly be interested in. For Gio it was validation that this woman was someone he was interested in. Both just enjoyed the quiet moment for what it was – chemistry.
"So, now that you've shown me all your tricks, you want to come with me to review the place?" Betty broke the spell by standing and clearing more plates. "I have to work, so you can't totally distract me, but you can enjoy the food and tell me what you think. I have a sneaking suspicion that Mrs. Meade sent me on this assignment because she expected me to write a whimsical review rather than a terribly educated one. She's convinced Hot Flash readers want something new and different rather than the same old review they've seen forty times over."
"What restaurant are you reviewing?"
"You're never going to believe it."
"There are a million restaurants in New York City, what am I not going to believe?" Gio's arm brushed against Betty's as they worked to put the leftovers away, and he noticed that she didn't flinch away or look nervous for once. Which promptly made him nervous.
"The Pemberly Inn."
Gio came to a halt. "The same restaurant you sat at for an hour waiting for Henry?"
"The one and the same."
"Are you sure you want to go back? Doesn't it have bad memories?"
Betty's chin jutted forward resolutely as she used a sponge to clean off the table. "It's my job, I've gotta do it. Besides, it's my chance to turn a bad experience into a good one. And give that waiter who served me a pause when he finds out I'm reviewing the place. That'll be my version of delicious."
"Well, I guess I can't miss that. Revenge is a dish best served with a friend to help you remember the best, most catty moments."
"Okay, then. I'll meet you on Friday at six down here."
"You got it Suarez."
The rest of the evening quickly passed with the washing and drying of dishes and jokes about snooty waiters and how to get back at them. Gio was particularly inventive in that arena, making Betty scared of the day that he ever wanted to pull an April Fool's joke on her.
Gio drove her home in the van that seemed to have become a second home for them. The place where they could have eye-opening conversations. However, nothing was that deep tonight, just conversations about what was going on in the world, and about when Betty's braces were supposed to come off (next year).
As Gio bid Betty goodbye in front of her fence he threw caution to the wind and reached over to take her hand. She looked quizzically at him with an expression that looked partially distracted and curious.
"Thanks for a great evening B." He squeezed her hand, letting it slowly fall away from his. Several strands of her hair flew up in the nighttime breeze, tangling around her glasses and partially obscuring her eyes from his.
Then she surprised him by taking one step forward and brushing her lips dangerously close to his. It was just a brush, but it made him flush from head to toes. His hand of it's own volition reached out to touch her, but he forced it down, wanting to see what she said and did next. This new self-aware Betty startled him, and he loved her all the more for it. If he had been the one to challenge all the time in their relationship it would have become old, but it appeared that she had more surprises in store.
"Thanks Gio. I'm going to stop being sappy now and just say bring your a-game on Friday, okay?"
"Rossi and Suarez will make a good team."
"Suarez and Rossi. And yeah, I think we do."
Betty's lips still tingled from the slight kiss, and she thought seriously about leaning in for another one, this time with full lip contact. The exploratory phase was currently pointing to all signs go. They had kissed before. Plus she had a dream to fulfill didn't she?
Instead she ended up blurting, "Henry is just a friend now. I mean, I didn't go with him, to get married that is."
Betty winced at the suddenness of her comments, realizing that they had cut through the night air and landed with a thud at Gio's feet.
But he didn't seem to mind. His answer was a simple, "Okay." (What Betty didn't know was that Gio's insides had frozen up at the word Henry, and then relaxed at the words "friend" and "didn't go with him".)
And so Betty was glad that she had decided to wait. She wanted to give the exploratory phase just the right amount of time, and she was teetering on it being over.
As Betty and Gio both headed to their respective homes they looked forward to another night, and days full of sneaking away to read their respective new books.