Chapter 3
Well, Friday finally came, and I arrived at Frosty's five minutes early. I headed inside and saw Frenchy sittin' with her friends.
"Hey Frenchy," I said softly.
She smiled. "Hey," she said brightly.
My heart stopped, leaping to my throat.
"You look," I said, "like a beautiful pink angel."
Frenchy giggled, blushing faintly as I Kissed her hand. "Really…?"
We sat down, and she smiled. "This here's Marty, that's Jan and this is Rizzo."
"I met Rizzo," I said. "I'll tell you what I told her about you… you're really cute."
Frenchy giggled again. "Ohhh…" she said shyly.
As we ate and talked about nothing in particular, Frenchy had kicked off her shoe, and was running one of her little feet up and down my leg, smiling coyly.
I smiled back. "Are we shy?" I said softly.
She giggled. "Yeah…"
"So," said Jan, "Whaddya do?"
"Read, mostly," I said. "History, fantasy, westerns. Love me a good cowboy picture."
"Ooh, history," said Marty, leaning forward.
"Gotta love the Romans!"
Marty smiled.
That was when I switched to Italian.
After about ten minutes of this, Frenchy giggled, switching to, wouldn't ya know it, French.
"What the heck is that jargle?" I said. "Scripture? You quotin' scripture?"
"You don't speak French?"
"Guess you'll have to gimme private lessons," I said with a wink.
She chuckled. "I just might…" she said playfully, curling her toes against my ankle.
"You're cute," I said softly, gently grazing her cheek with my hand.
She leaned into my touch, blushing.
After we ate and talked for a while, we mostly separated, but Frenchy and I stayed with each other, heading to the car.
"There's a movie playin' at the drive-in next Saturday… it's a comedy."
"Sure, we can do that!"
When we got to her place, she smiled as I walked her to the door.
"Don't be too long between calls, okay?" She handed me a piece of paper and smiled.
Her folks opened the door.
"So you're Ezio," said her father. "We're Pierre and Lilly, Francesca's parents."
"Your real name is Francesca?"
She giggled. "Yeah."
"Is your last name… kinda why they call you Frenchy? You're French?"
"I'm a half-breed. French dad, American mom. Grandpa, that's my dad's dad, is from France."
"Yeah," said Pierre. "You want a coke for the road, Ezio?"
"Sure, thanks."
After I was given my soda, I smiled and said, "thanks… hey, she wants to see a movie next Saturday if that's good."
"That's great!" Said Pierre enthusiastically.
As I left their driveway, I swear I heard her father say heartily, "I like this guy!"