Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.
This is #2 in the Kisses Series of short stories, vignettes and ficlets based on the 1958-61 TV series "Peter Gunn". Each entry features two prompts: a kiss prompt and a word prompt. The time frame of these stories ranges from pre-series to post-series and they are written in random order. Prompts are found at the end of the story. Time frame for this entry: Early Season 2.
Heaps of gratitude to Melchy for coming through when inspiration escaped me and I stumbled over certain parts. She helped me through them with her witty and descriptive writing and for that I'm grateful.
• Cold Lips, Warm Hart (Kisses Series)
Peter Gunn closed and locked the apartment door, one hand reaching to loosen his tie as he stepped down into the living room. He tossed his keys onto the coffee bar and slipped off his suit jacket and laid it over the back of the nearest armchair. Fruitless would be the perfect adjective to describe his morning. He was glad to be home, maybe the remainder of the day could be salvaged.
"Edie?" The dark-haired private investigator rubbed a palm across his forehead in a vain attempt to wipe away beads of perspiration. This little heat wave was bound to go down in the record books. Autumn had always been his favorite time of the year but right now he wished October would pick a temperature and stay there. "I'm here!"
He removed his cuff links and placed them on the bar with his keys, rolled one shirtsleeve halfway up his forearm and started on the other. Receiving no answer he jogged up the stairs and poked his head into the bedroom. No Edie there. But gratefully the window was open to let in some air. The day was certainly a hot one for this time of year and the humidity was oppressive. The PI gave up on his wilting sleeves and quickly undressed, dropping items of clothing inside the hamper to be washed or laying them on top to go to Soon Lee's for dry cleaning. Dressed more casually in khaki pants and a short-sleeved checked shirt he headed downstairs, meeting Edie coming from the opposite direction bearing an overflowing laundry basket.
"I wondered where you were." His eyebrows went up. "Washing on a Friday?"
"I had nothing better to do and it was cooler in the laundry room." Edie relinquished the basket and followed him back to the bedroom. "What took you so long?"
"The wheels of justice sometimes move at a snail's pace." The PI had been called to give his testimony at a pretrial hearing. "The defense attorney was dragging his feet. Then he requested a closed conference with the judge and asked that Morton be committed to the state mental hospital in Green Gage. Judge Davis didn't appear too happy about it but is allowing both sides the opportunity to do a medical evaluation. He rescheduled for next Thursday."
"So you sat and twiddled your thumbs?" Edie watched him dump freshly dried laundry onto the bed, admiring the way his shirtsleeves molded to his shoulders as he turned to set the basket to one side.
"No, I sat and listened to Lieutenant Jacoby snore."
Pete sifted through the pile for socks and began pairing them, as usual coming up with two odd ones that didn't match, his attention drifting between the minor chore and Edie's outfit. A pair of his checked boxers hung from her hips and an old sleeveless t-shirt he wasn't aware he still had dangled from her shoulders, barely covering her in all the right places. Or was it the wrong places? Her blonde hair was tied into a messy ponytail, her face bore not a speck of makeup and all that adorned her feet was the pink polish on her toes. She caught his straying gaze and made a face.
"They're nice and airy and the coolest thing I could find." She offered up a mischievous grin. "It was either this or nothing at all."
He chuckled. "Why don't you change into something presentable. We'll go spend a few hours at the park, maybe visit the midway out on the main pier. Should take our minds off the heat for a while."
River Run Park was unusually busy even for a Friday afternoon in early October, Pete's idea for cooling off apparently not a unique one. Young women in sleeveless tops and calf-hugging capri pants languidly pushed baby strollers or walked dogs along the main trail. Business types, men of various ages in shirtsleeves with neckties pulled askew and collars unbuttoned, occupied benches and ate sack lunches in the shaded picnic area not far from the main parking lot. Already changing color, the leaves of the massive red oaks rippled in the little breeze that fed off the river, the dark evergreen of eastern hemlocks standing out in sharp contrast alongside them.
Pete found a shaded parking slot along one of the side lanes, leaving the Fury's top down so they wouldn't come back to a steaming car. He took Edie's hand in his, their fingers entwined as they ambled lazily along one of the narrower trails, eventually making their way to the pier. She'd changed into a sleeveless yellow sundress with button closures on the shoulders and flat white sandals and he was having a difficult time keeping his gaze off of her and on the trail where it belonged.
They stopped to buy hot dogs on a stick, onion rings and lemonade from the first vendor they ran across and found a small bench in a shaded area to share lunch. A good number of children occupied a nearby playground, their mothers divided into various klatsches nearby, no doubt sharing the latest gossip. A few words that drifted their way affirmed that today was a teachers work day, which gave explanation for the crowds. What better way to amuse children than a day in the park? Afterwards they climbed the narrow steps to the top of the pier and wandered along the midway, stopping at various game booths and shops, slowly strolling the length of one side and returning along the other.
Six tosses of a ball won Pete a Kewpie doll that had him flummoxed. She was twelve inches of celluloid dressed as a 1920s flapper with small fluffy feathers of orange, pink, lime green and yellow covering her upper body. A tiny top hat sat jauntily atop her head, her round eyes covered the top half of her face and bright red lipstick adorned her little puckered mouth. With a pained smile he handed the doll to Edie, who tactfully decided it looked more like something Mother would go for and proposed he bring it to the club later and present it to the older lady.
"She'll get more of a kick out of it coming from you."
"If you say so." He took back the doll and held it at arm's length and raised an eyebrow. If he stuffed it in the pocket of his suit jacket and held his arm just right maybe no one in Mother's would notice he had it on him. Edie laughed at his expression and assured him there was an empty shoe box in his downstairs coat closet that would hide it from prying eyes. Her grin widened at the look of relief that crossed his face when she offered to carry it until they got back to the car.
Edie had no luck with the ring toss no matter how many dimes Pete fed the proprietor of that booth. Pete would never admit it out loud, especially within range of Edie's hearing, but he got a warm feeling in his heart on the admittedly rare occasions they came across a game she wasn't good at. She tended to better him at everything from Scrabble to gin rummy and had come close to topping him in their most recent game of chess. He finally got her away from there and into a nearby novelty store which they exited empty-handed ten minutes later. Finding a concession stand, the PI dug in his pocket for some change for a small bag of popcorn and a Coke, ignoring a nearby sign that advertised chocolate coated frozen bananas.
"Pete, look!" The next booth down was a shooting gallery. "Five shots for a quarter. You could win something nice to make up for this..." she took a sip from the Coke bottle and gave the doll a look and a shrug, "...though she is kind of cute. She sort of grows on you after the initial shock."
"Just make sure she grows on Mother. Otherwise you get custody of her."
They paused at the booth and watched a young fellow in blue jeans, white button-down shirt and black jacket take a final shot at the moving row of yellow ducks and then toss the rifle aside when he missed. He reluctantly stepped out of the way and allowed Pete to take his place, all the while muttering petulant words about the game being rigged as he searched his pockets for more change.
"Hiya, Pete."
"Hi, Sylvester." The PI raised an eyebrow at the sight of the thin man - a member of what Lieutenant Jacoby liked to refer to as the private investigator's little covey of informers - with the receding hairline and melancholy eyes. "Going in for a new line of work?"
"The place belongs to my cousin Morty, it's sort of a sideline of his." Sylvester cleared his throat and plucked at his collar to loosen it, leaning toward Pete with a semblance of confidentiality. "I'm running it for him while he's on vacation. Right now it's only open noon till dark so it doesn't take up too much of my time. End of the month it'll go to just weekends through the winter." The words seemed to seep from the side of his mouth, his eyes flickering between Edie and the young man in the black jacket.
"Oh? How long does he plan to be gone?"
"At least thirty but no more than ninety days. Sorta depends." He set a second rifle on the counter and began reloading the one his last customer had used.
"I'll bet." Pete chuckled knowingly and picked up the rifle, turning it over several times in his hands to examine it. "Edie, you remember Sylvester."
"Hello, Mr. Sylvester."
The man tipped his ever-present visor and returned her greeting, his eyebrows quirking in an absurd slant as his gaze settled on the doll she carried. His smile faded into a sour grimace when Pete laid two quarters on the counter.
"Come on, Pete! Don't do this to me," he whined and threw his hands in the air. "My old heart can't take the sound of those little slugs hitting metal. Just put me out of my misery and pick something – "
"That would take all the fun out it, Sylvester."
"What does the lady want, the bear? Here – " Sylvester pulled a furry brown teddy bear from the top left shelf. Then he produced a small blue box from beneath the counter and popped open the lid to show Edie the contents. "Maybe you'd like a fancy bracelet from Guatemala, hey? Genuine facsimile platinum with replica imitation jade. Those colored beads are hard as rock, it'll last a lifetime."
"Well..."
"She might like that clock radio hidden on the bottom shelf in the corner." Pete offered the man a knowing smile then aimed the rifle and squinted at the target.
"Ahh, Pete..."
Sylvester reached for another item, this time on the middle shelf to his right. His hazel eyes were sadly pleading as he showed it off to Edie.
"How about this nice piggy bank? You can save all your extra change in it and buy something real special for Pete. It's still a couple months till Christmas..." He rested an elbow on the counter and leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered his voice. "You let me know what you're looking for and I'll find somebody to make you a really good deal on whatever it is."
"Watch it, Sylvester. You'll end up joining cousin Morty on his vacation."
Pete picked off the top row of yellow ducks one by one as a hidden mechanism moved them smartly along in single file. He quickly followed suit with the bottom row. A few minutes later he and Edie were on their way back to the park, the PI carrying a brown paper bag containing the prize he'd won and – thankfully, to his way of thinking – the odd Kewpie doll.
"Thank you for my piggy bank." Edie smiled at him. "He's awfully handsome with his little bow tie and little piggy nose."
"I believe it's called a snout and he is quite handsome. I think I'll keep him for myself," he teased.
"What would you do with him?" She pretended to pout. "And I know it's a snout but piggy nose doesn't sound as snooty."
Try as he might he couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I'm going to fill him full of dimes and put him on your dressing table so you can't say you don't have change for a phone call."
"Then he'll need a name," she announced. "A very distinguished name."
"Like Piggy?"
"No! Like Pete."
"But he doesn't look a thing like me!"
They strolled the long way back to where the car was parked, crossing an old wooden bridge that spanned a trickling tributary of the big river, pausing once to buy a box of ice pops from an entrepreneurial group of youngsters who were raising money to send themselves to camp.
"It's for any kid that doesn't have the whole ten dollars to be able to go," a skinny tow-headed boy explained. He grinned up at Edie, revealing a gap where one front tooth was missing. Several other boys gathered around and nodded energetically while another who looked to be the oldest of the group fished the requested box of cherry-flavored treats out of a tall cooler.
"The money they raise pays half their fee." A frazzled-looking redheaded woman offered up a tired smile as she accepted Pete's money and dropped it through a roughly cut slot in the lid of a large coffee can. The can was wrapped in brown paper and had the name of a nearby boys camp emblazoned in red marker. "And it makes up the difference for parents who can't afford to pay the other half. It might not seem like a lot but there are families that don't have that much to spare once necessities are covered."
"Do you have any little boys, Mister?" A freckle-faced boy who looked to be about eight years old stood toe-to-toe with the PI and stared straight up his chest, head falling back comically.
"Er... not at the moment." Pete accepted the box of treats from the older boy and stashed it in the bag with the doll and piggy bank.
"Why not?"
"Gilbert! What have I told you about being nosy? Leave the nice man alone."
"Well, when you do have little boys you can send them to camp, too. It's for any kid that wants to go. Our scout troop went last year. It was our first time. We did all sorts of neat things and made crafts and went swimming in the lake and caught our own fish and ate 'em for breakfast and supper both! And we did walks in the woods and watched birds and roasted marshmallows over the fire, well most of them were burned up but we ate 'em anyway and the same thing happened to the weenies – "
"Gilbert!" The redhead rolled her eyes but there was laughter in her voice as she added in an aside to Edie, "He's my son and I love him but take my advice and stick to girls."
"I think he's adorable." Edie gave the woman a warm smile.
"We're havin' a bowl-a – bowl-a-thing Saturday." The tow-head waved a crinkled sheet of paper at Edie. "There's a form where you can bet money – "
"Make a pledge, Tommy," the woman corrected. "We don't make bets. And it's a Bowl-a-Thon."
"Is she your wife?" Freckle-faced Gilbert looked from Pete to Edie and back to Pete and offered up a guileless grin. "She's real pretty, Mister."
The PI chuckled and reached a hand into his pants pocket and brought out some paper money attached to a clip. He peeled away several bills and stuffed them through the slot in the lid of the can, a half-smile tilting his lips. It always paid to compliment a woman. And it seemed they learned it earlier and earlier these days.
"We'd better be on our way." The PI gave his wristwatch a glance. "It's getting late. "
Arriving back at the car, Edie released a contented sigh and settled into the passenger seat, her sunny smile following Pete as he shut the door and made his way around to the driver's side. She removed one ice pop from the box, snapped the two-sticker apart against the edge of the dashboard and offered him half as he slid behind the wheel.
"Maybe later." He smiled and slipped the key into the ignition.
"Okay," she shrugged. "But when it melts all over everything else in the bag don't come crying to me."
"I have no intention." He turned the key and the engine roared to life.
"Suit yourself," Edie smiled. Her lips closed around the tip of the ice pop and she took a bite, letting out a satisfied sigh that suddenly had his full attention. "Tasty," she said in a low voice that caused a lump to form in his throat. She took another bite that caused the lump to move further down his body. "Refreshing. And very cherry."
"Just exactly how refreshing?" He turned to face her. Her eyes were big and shining, her mouth moist from the ice pop.
"Wouldn't you like to find out?" She took another bite.
Her lips were deliciously cold as he covered them with his own, and he devoured them hungrily. Her mouth opened to let his tongue slip inside where it met the piece of flavored ice, his whole body responding to the frosty mound. He reached for her, pulling her body as close as he could, wanting to get lost inside her. She groaned slightly and he forget where they were.
Suddenly the car engine revved, shaking them both from the moment.
"What the – ?" he started.
Edie laughed as she pointed to his foot. In his amorous intentions he had accidentally hit the gas pedal, causing the car to spring to life.
"Well, I'll be– Good thing it was still in park," Pete muttered and joined in her laughter, then deftly caught the remainder of her ice pop right before it landed in his lap. Edie magically produced a tissue from the pocket of her sundress as he tossed the ice away, then watched with tears of laughter running down her cheeks as he cleaned the sticky juice of the treat from his hand and dabbed at a few drops that had found his trousers.
"Well, should we go home?" he finally asked, putting the car into reverse.
"I think we should," she grinned, settling in her seat as he backed out of the parking slot. A thoughtful expression gradually replaced her smile as they headed out of the park and back to the main road. "I wonder what we can do with the rest of these ice pops..."
[Kiss Prompt: cold lips] [Word Prompt: I'm here]