Today's Special is the Jerk-Chicken Salad - Chapter 9: Spaghetti and Meatballs
"I wish I had better memories of you," said Betty. "When I think back, all I remember is you being sweet and me taking advantage of you."
"I was hurt," said Gio, hands on her waist, moving to the beat of the music. "I waited for you for such a long time and then nothing happened."
"I was so wrapped up in Henry," said Betty, "and after him, myself."
"I always seemed to be on the outside looking in," lamented Gio. "You never gave me a chance, not even one date."
Gio held her in his arms, swaying them to the slow rhythm of the music. Feeling he was in a dream, he smoothly moved them back and forth, circling and turning, stroking her back, drawing her into him, breathing in her fragrance, feeling her every breath.
Sluggish and drowsy from her full stomach, Betty rested her head on Gio's shoulder, and let her thoughts drift over the past.
"Since I began to regret we never dated," said Betty, "it has bugged me even more that when the tabloids write about my former lovers, you're included."
"Yeah," said Gio. "I've seen some of the stories. It's that picture Marc and Amanda took, they love printing it."
Betty sighed. "I wish I had happier memories of us."
"Me too, B," murmured Gio. "Me too."
"It's so unfair. I'm paying again and again for a sin I never enjoyed."
Sighing, minds wandering freely, they embraced each other and danced lazily, relishing the unexpected chance they had to be together, taking pleasure in a rare moment of utter peace and contentment. The restaurant's walls shielded them from the outside world and the sweet plaintive music blanketed them in a safe cocoon.
"We can rewrite the past," said Gio. "We'll change it."
"How?" said Betty. "What's done is done."
"Haven't you ever wanted a do-over?"
"Of course, lots of times," said Betty, giggling. "You know me."
"Then, let's do it," said Gio. "Let's see, when do you want to start?"
"I don't know," said Betty, puzzled. "What do you mean by when?"
"How about the night of the junior high dance?" said Gio. "Almost four years ago. You remember the dance?"
"Of course," laughed Betty. "You helped me steal my trophy. I was such a badass!"
"You were." Gio chuckled. "That night you hinted I should ask you out, but I didn't."
"Yes, I remember that I did, even though I was still grieving Henry. You guessed that."
"This time, forget Henry," said Gio. "We'll make a happy memory together, the way we wished it'd turned out. Imagine we're back then, on your doorstep. That night."
"Okay," said Betty. "We're on the doorstep."
"You just hinted I should ask you out, and I said, 'Betty, how about next Saturday?' and you s-"
"Yes!"
"I said, 'Let's have some fun and show up that snobby waiter,'" said Gio. "Would you like to go to the Pemberley Inn?"
"Yes!"
"What time did I pick you up?" asked Gio, continuing to sway them gently to the music.
"I don't know … eight o'clock?"
"That Saturday morning I took out all my dress shirts," said Gio, "all two of them, but neither were good enough, so I bought one. What color was it?"
"Black," said Betty.
"Black, really?"
"I liked you wearing black."
"What color tie?"
"No tie."
"Black shirt, no tie. It took me an hour to decide how I'd button it."
"Every time I caught a glimpse of your chest it made me swoon." Betty rested her hand on Gio's bare chest, tracing a fingertip lightly from his Adam's apple downwards.
Unwilling to let his chest recede from the exquisite sensation which excited every nerve in his body, Gio inhaled until Betty lifted her finger at his solar plexus. Careful, don't rush, thought Gio, exhaling quietly, subduing his reckless impulses. Do not dare alarm her, just talk, he commanded himself.
"So it was time well spent," said Gio, recovering control. "What did you wear?"
"A pink dress," said Betty. "I loved wearing pink then."
"I was all ready by six so I killed time wandering the streets," said Gio. "I decided to buy you flowers and bought red roses. After a couple of blocks I thought you might think they were silly so I left them on a bench. After wandering several more blocks I reconsidered and went back to get them but they were gone. I had plenty of time so I went back to the flower shop and this time I bought yellow roses because they smelled nice. Then I went to your street and I waited until eight. What did you do?"
"Hilda did my hair and nails," said Betty. "She curled my hair so it fell in long waves. I put on the pink dress and waited on the sofa in the living room for at least an hour, trying to not move my hands because I was afraid I'd tear a hole in my pantyhose with the nails. I was such a klutz. Hmm, what happened next?"
"At eight o'clock precisely, I knocked on your door," said Gio. "I could hardly breathe. I held the roses so tight the paper around them got all crumpled."
"As soon as I heard you knock, I lunged for the door," said Betty, "to beat Hilda to it. I said, 'Gio! I love yellow roses. They're my favorite!' although they weren't until that moment."
"You were a vision in that pink dress. I was mesmerized by the ruffling flounces."
"Ah, the flounces. I'd forgotten about the flounces."
"We took a cab to the restaurant and the snobby waiter sat us in that table near the window. What did I order?"
"Steak! How did you take it?"
"Rare. I always order rare. You ordered spaghetti and meatballs."
"Yum," squealed Betty, hugging Gio. "I love spaghetti. You know what I like."
"And I was thinking, Betty, don't order the spaghetti! I could make you spaghetti that would blow your mind. But I didn't say it aloud."
Betty laughed. "We talked and we laughed. We had a great time. You always made me laugh. That's what I remember the most."
"I spent the whole cab ride back wondering whether I should try to kiss you goodnight or not."
"Even after I laughed at all your jokes and smiled at you so much?"
"I didn't want to get slapped again," laughed Gio.
"What did you do?" Betty looked up at Gio. "I wanted you to kiss me!"
"I decided to ask," said Gio. "When we got to your doorstep, I said, 'Betty, may I kiss you goodnight?' and you s-"
"Yes!"
"I was still terribly nervous, so I just pecked your cheek very lightly."
"Kiss me," said Betty, gazing up.
"I already did," said Gio, smiling at her tenderly.
"Kiss me!" said Betty.
"When do you mean?" Gio said. "Now or then?"
"Now," said Betty, tilting her head and closing her eyes. "I want to remember exactly how it felt."
Gio put a fingertip under Betty's chin and, afraid of breaking the fairytale mood, gingerly, very lightly, brushed his lips on her cheek.
Her hands tingling, Betty could barely feel his warm breath and soft lips on her cheek. "That was nice. Our first date is a wonderful memory. What happened after that?"
"I couldn't believe we were finally dating! I was walking on air, no, dancing on air. I came by your desk on Monday morning and I asked you if you wanted to see a concert at the Blue Note. You s-"
"Yes!"
"Then I scrambled to get tickets to the earliest available event."
"Skip that one," said Betty, swallowing. "Go to the next."
"The weather was nice so I invited you to the park. I packed a picnic basket. Chicken salad sandwiches, black and white cookies, and-"
"Skip," said Betty, her stomach cold, heavy. "Hurry. After that. What came after that?"
"I don't remember exactly," said Gio. "Help me out. What do you want?"
"You invited me to your place," said Betty, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Oh, that date," said Gio, flashing a smile. "A vivid memory. I must have taken you out to dinner first. Where did we go?"
"No, not out. You made me dinner at your place," said Betty, rushing the words out. "You wouldn't tell me what it was going to be. You loved surprising me. What did you make?"
"Fettuccine Alfredo," said Gio. "I could make it in my sleep but I went out shopping three times, searching for the best kind of Romano cheese, and buying candles and matches."
"I was a half-hour early," said Betty. "I felt conspicuous in the hallway so I knocked as soon as I got there."
"I'd spent all week cleaning my apartment." Gio chuckled. "A one room apartment! But still, I wasn't ready. I tried to keep you from noticing that the sink was full of dirty dishes from making the sauce."
"When I came in …" Betty jerked her head, darting her eyes around urgently. "What did I see when I came in?"
"Just a square room," said Gio, "the door from the hall opened right into the middle of it, there was a window on the right, overlooking a fire escape, a sofa bed and dresser right there, the kitchen that was really just a counter on the left side. The small round dining table was set with a white cloth, candles, and I had two folding chairs pulled up to it."
"The only thing I saw was the sofa bed," said Betty, modestly biting her lip and briefly glancing down. "You took my hand and led me to the stove." She held up her hand to his face, brushing his cheek lightly.
Gio took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
"I was in heaven," said Betty, eyes sparkling. "The sauce smelled divine."
"It was perfect," said Gio. "I twisted a piece of fettuccine on a fork, dipped it into the sauce, held it up for you, and I said, 'Taste this.'"
Gio held his hand up in front of Betty, as if he were holding a fork for her.
"I opened my mouth," said Betty, gulping a breath, "and you fed me. I moaned in ecstasy." Betty moaned and swallowed, touching her fingertips to her mouth. A captivating vision of life with Gio as an endless buffet of carefree delicious occasions filled her mind.
"Bellissimo!" said Gio, kissing his fingers. "Heavy cream, fresh-grated Romano cheese, a splash of white wine, extra-virgin …" Gio squeezed Betty's waist playfully making her squeal, "… olive oil, a few ounces of truffle oil, a pinch of nutmeg, cracked pep-"
"Gio, I love you!"
"What?" Gio paused and studied Betty's serious expression.
"I love you!"
"I-" Gio blushed and shook his head. "Then I laughed and said, 'Do you really mean that or are you just angling for another bite?'"
"Yes!"
His arms still around her, Gio stopped dancing and gazed at Betty expectantly.
The tingling sensation in her hands was growing stronger, distracting her. "… and yes," said Betty, light-headed, her mind muddled, the words tumbling over each other. "And you say … uh … said …"
"Betty, I love you. I've always loved you and I always will."
"Take me," said Betty, letting go of Gio's neck and clenching her prickling hands.
"What?" said Gio.
"Take me!"
Gio laughed. "I said, 'I couldn't possibly do it with someone who uses such an archaic expression.'"
Flustered, Betty grabbed Gio by the shoulders, imploring him, "Make love to me."
Gio laughed. "I said, 'I'm going to have to card you. How old did you say you are?'"
"Screw me!" shouted Betty, shaking Gio.
"Music to my ears," said Gio, grinning. "Succinct, yet so romantic. I said, 'You'll never know how much I've longed to hear you say that. Let's eat.'"
"Forget dinner," cried Betty, her palms clammy. "Now!"
"That got my attention! I immediately turned around and took the sauce off the heat. We had a good laugh about the ruined fettuccine later, but I didn't want to start a fire. I mean, literally start a fire."
"Stop it!" yelled Betty, pounding on Gio's chest. "I want you now!"
Gio stared intently at Betty. "When? Then now or now now?"
"Now!" Betty grabbed Gio's arm and began to drag him to his bedroom. "Hurry!"
"Now?" Gio scooped Betty up and took a step towards his bedroom. He was shocked to discover how light she was.
"Are you sure?" said Gio, looking down at Betty's pale, agitated face. "Are you alright?"
"No!" Ashen-faced and sweating, Betty wiggled in Gio's arms. "It's too late!"
Puzzled, Gio set her down and stared at her.
"I just need …" squeaked Betty, turning away from him.
Dizzy, Betty staggered and grabbed the edge of the bar to support herself, glancing around blindly for her purse. The wretched feeling in the pit of her stomach could no longer be ignored.
"I need a Gravol," cried Betty, "before we ..."
Head spinning, Betty stumbled again, covered her mouth and gave a dry heave. She fell on her hands and knees.
"Betty?" said Gio, jumping to her side and squatting down. "What's wrong?"
"A little heartburn," gagged Betty.
Betty shuddered and threw up. Over the next few minutes she threw up every last ounce of her over-full stomach's contents, a stinking, masticated mess of fries, fruit, and chocolate milkshake.
Gio knelt beside her and stroked her back until she was completely done. Then he sat cross-legged on the floor and gathered her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms. Reaching up behind him, he grabbed a bar towel from the counter to wipe her face.
Limp and weak, her ear next to Gio's pounding heart, Betty covered her face with her hands, apologized repeatedly, and wept from shame.
