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Chapter 20 Schnitzel with Noodles
Bobby made his way down the hall towards the back of the house. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed visiting with Amy's parents back when he and Amy were dating. There was always so much warmth and affection, something Bobby had never had in his home growing up and he had been envious of Amy's family. The warmth and affection was still there, and now in light of recent revelations, Bobby realized he missed it even more. Miss it, he asked himself. Hell, I need it, he thought. Especially after everything that's happened recently.
Patty was nowhere in sight when Bobby passed the kitchen, and he continued on, uninterrupted, back to Amy's.
The sound of happy little giggles greeted his ears, and he smiled. I could get used to coming home to that sound, he thought. He stopped in the doorway and stared at the goings-on in Amy's kitchen. Amy and Christy were sitting at the table, watching Hudson feed himself spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner. The little guy was wearing almost as much as he was managing to swallow in between giggles. All three were laughing as he slurped the noodles and struggled with his spoon. As he watched, he was struck by the realization that she could still take his breath away with her smile. After all this time, he thought. I wonder…..
His reverie was broken when Hudson spotted him standing there. "Boppy," he shouted, waving his hands in the air. As Bobby watched, the spaghetti that had been in the spoon Hudson was still holding in his chubby fist went flying through the air, landing on Amy. It spattered on her cream silk blouse and splashed onto her chin and down her arm. The rest landed on the floor.
"Oh," cried Amy, astonished. Christy jumped up to grab the spoon from Hudson's hand and the bowl from the high chair's tray. Bobby was across the kitchen in a few long strides and quickly grabbed a towel from off the counter next to the sink. He ran water over the towel, then turned to find Amy standing next to him.
"You have spaghetti on your chin," he told her, reaching out to wipe the offending sauce from off her soft skin. Her breath felt warm on his hand and he felt his stomach lurch. "Here," he said, handing her the towel and stepping to the side. "You'll want to wipe your shirt and wash off your arm." He gestured to the sink as he moved further out of her way.
Amy thought she saw the faintest blush of red on his ears and remembered, "his ears turned red when he was embarrassed…or aroused….hmmm…….I wonder….
"MORE!" Hudson's anguished cries over the removal of his dinner pulled Bobby's attention away from Amy. He stepped over to the little guy and gently took the bowl and spoon from Christy. "Here," he said to the nanny. "I'll help him finish up." He turned the high chair away from the table then positioned one of the chairs in front of it. Sitting down he smiled warmly at Hudson. "Hey, Hudson; you want some more spaghetti?" Hudson opened his mouth wide and eagerly took the spoonful Bobby offered him. When little hands began to reach for the spoon, Bobby chided him gently and continued feeding the little boy. "No, Boppy's gonna feed you right now," he said, falling into the pet name he had been graced with earlier and discovering he liked the sound of it. "Nana needs to get cleaned up for dinner and Christy needs to wipe the floor. That just leaves you and me, okay?"
Hudson nodded and opened his mouth again for more spaghetti. They soon made short work of the rest of the boy's meal, and Bobby moved gracefully out of the chair, pushing it back under the table and placing the bowl and spoon in the sink. As Christy scooped up Hudson and whisked him off to take a bath, Bobby washed his hands. Amy handed him a towel. "Thank you," she said softly. "You didn't have to jump in like that and help out."
"It was my pleasure. Besides, he's my grandson. Why wouldn't I want to help out?"
"I don't know," Amy said. "You don't even know him? You're uncomfortable around kids? We never had that discussion, you know. I wasn't sure how you'd react to him. You did a great job feeding him, by the way."
"Thank you. I enjoyed it. Why don't you go change your shirt? I'll open the wine." Bobby pointed to the bottle of wine sitting on the counter. Amy smiled at him and turned to leave the kitchen. "Amy," Bobby called after her softly. "I love being around kids," he told her, smiling.
Amy left the kitchen and headed up the stairs to change her clothes. She could hear Bobby whistling as he moved around the kitchen. She reached her bedroom and went into the closet and started flipping through the blouses hanging on the rack. A few minutes had passed before Amy realized she was flipping mindlessly, unable to make up her mind. What is wrong with me, she chided herself. Just pick something, she thought, grabbing the next thing her hand touched, a sapphire blue top with cap sleeves and a deep scoop neckline. Unaware of how the blouse made her eyes sparkle and her skin glow, not to mention how much it revealed, Amy hurriedly slipped out of the soiled top and into the clean one. She ducked into the bathroom, quickly running her brush through her hair and swiftly swiping soft pink lip gloss across her mouth.
Amy came down the stairs to hear the sounds of smooth jazz flowing from the dining room. Curiously, she headed in that direction, stopping when she reached the doorway. Mrs. Mitchell had laid a romantic table setting for two, and Bobby had lit the candles and poured the wine. He was standing by the entrance from the dining room to the living room, studying a portrait of Amy's family. When Amy softly knocked on the doorframe, he turned and gasped softly.
Amy blushed as she heard him gasp and saw his gaze run appreciatively up and down her body. Two can play that game she thought, as she took the time to study him as well, taking in his dark pin-striped Armani suit, bright blue dress shirt and silk tie. Bobby broke the spell when he stepped towards the table and picked up the two wine glasses. He moved quietly around the table and handed Amy a glass as she moved further into the room to join him. "You look beautiful," he breathed.
"You don't look so bad yourself," Amy answered him as she took the glass he offered her. "I'm amazed you managed to feed Hudson the rest of his spaghetti and not get any on yourself," she commented, carefully examining him for any signs of sauce. "I think you're sauce free." She stepped back and raised her glass. "To…."
"To renewing old friendships," Bobby said, raising an eyebrow in silent question.
Amy took the hint. "And starting over," she answered him with a raised eyebrow of her own.
"And starting over," Bobby echoed in agreement, gently touching his glass to hers. They each took a sip, never taking their eyes off each other.
Mrs. Mitchell entered the room quietly then, and cleared her throat. Amy jumped slightly then turned and looked at her. Mrs. Mitchell noticed a faint blush to Amy's cheeks but said nothing, asking instead if they were ready for her to serve the salads.
"Yes, please. That would be wonderful." Amy turned back to Bobby and stifled a giggle; for some reason she felt like they had been caught, even though they weren't doing anything. Bobby winked and grinned back at her.
Bobby then looked at the table. Mrs. Mitchell had set two place settings, one at the end of the table, and the other to its left. He moved over to the chair at the head of the table and pulled it out. "Amy," he called to her, indicating with a wave of his hand that she should allow him to seat her. Amy did giggle then, moving to the proffered place, setting her glass on the table and allowing him to seat her properly. She placed her hands in her lap and watched as he stepped to his left and seated himself next to her.
"This is perfect," he said, leaning in towards her and reaching out with his right hand. "Now, I can sit next to you and hold your hand all through dinner. That is if it's okay with you?"
She placed her left hand in his much larger right one and watched as it seemed to disappear as he gently wrapped his fingers around hers and gave them a gentle squeeze. She thought back to when they were dating and how amazed she was that a man as large and powerful as he was could be so gentle and sweet. "For now," she said simply, looking up at him and giving him a small smile. "I'm sure you have lots of questions for me."
"I do, but I had forgotten how much I like holding your hand." When Amy looked up at him in shock, he smiled at her and continued. "I didn't want to stop being together, Amy. You broke up with me, remember?"
Amy looked deep into his brown eyes then. What she saw in them took her by surprise. Sadness, she expected that, maybe some regret; what she didn't expect was what was missing. There was no anger there, only questions. Questions which she hopped she could answer adequately.
Mrs. Mitchell came back in then, bearing two salad plates which she deftly placed in front of each of them. They murmured their thanks to her as she left. She quickly returned with two pitchers, one with iced tea, the other with water. She asked each of them in turn which they preferred, poured their drinks and left, placing the pitchers on the sideboard within easy reach.
Bobby and Amy quietly ate their salads. Each had questions, but was afraid to go first. Finally, Amy broke the silence, hoping that small talk and chit-chat would pave the way for more serious conversation later. "How was your day?"
Bobby looked over at her. "Lousy. Eames and I had a lot of paperwork to finish up in the squad room then I came here."
"I'm sorry. Paperwork sucks, doesn't it?"
Bobby chuckled with her in agreement. "So, how did you go from being a history major to running an international winery, anyway? That seems like quite a jump," Bobby commented.
"Grandpa AJ," Amy answered. "After I announced that I was pregnant, he and Grandma bought a house in College Station and moved down to help out. My roommate, Michelle and I moved out of the dorm and into the house, away from prying eyes and nosy neighbors. I had plenty of quiet and help. The last several months were tough. A&M is a huge campus for a pregnant woman. I had support and understanding from my friends and classmates, but having that house to go home to at the end of the day really made it nice. Anyway, after Trey was born, and graduation, Grandpa AJ wanted to explore the possibility of growing grapes and making wine up in Utica. My graduation present was a fact finding trip with him through Europe. The end result is that now we have a very successful winery up there and Trey is the head of international business. And how did you end up back here from the Army?"
"Your dad didn't tell you," Bobby asked her pointedly.
"He did, but I want to hear it from you," Amy answered him. "Please?"
Bobby was about to begin telling Amy when Mrs. Mitchell poked her head in from the kitchen. "Are you ready for the main course," she asked. Bobby gathered up their salad plates and handed them to Mrs. Mitchell. "I think so," he told her. He leaned in towards her and spoke softly into her ear, "The salad was wonderful, by the way." Mrs. Mitchell blushed and smiled at him as she went back into the kitchen.
Bobby returned to the table and sat down, a devilish grin on his face. "I think she likes me," he said. Amy glared at him; Bobby laughed. "So, what's next? I'm starving."
"What was your favorite thing to eat while we were dating?"
Bobby's eyes got big, and he stared at Amy. "Really?" She nodded. "You're serious?" Amy nodded again, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, wow. Weiner Schnitzel? With red cabbage and noodles?" Amy nodded and smiled once more. Bobby reached over and squeezed her hand. "Thank you. I haven't eaten that in a long time. It brings back memories."
"Good ones, I hope," Amy said softly, returning Bobby's squeeze.
"Very good ones," Bobby replied, an intense look in his eyes.
Mrs. Mitchell entered the dining room just then, and carefully placed the steaming plates of food in front of them. She refilled their drink and wine glasses, and asked if they needed anything else.
"That will be all, thank you," Amy told her graciously. "I'll handle serving dessert later if you'd like to go home now. I can take care of the dishes."
"Good night, then," Mrs. Mitchell replied. "Enjoy your dinner. It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Goren."
"It was nice meeting you, too, Mrs. Mitchell. I hope I'll be seeing you again, sometime soon."
Mrs. Mitchell blushed and waved at them as she went back into the kitchen.
"You've made quite an impression on her, you know," Amy told him. "She'll be insufferable for days." Bobby just grinned at her.
"Now, where were we," Bobby asked.
"You were going to tell me what drew you away from the Army and back to New York City."
"I got bored with Criminal Investigations work. I loved solving the crimes and breaking the suspects, but it was all rather boring. Same old, same old, you know? Not too many murders happened on military bases. There were gambling rings and drugs and domestic abuse cases that became too much for the MPs, but nothing like what I get to do with the NYPD. I lost the excitement, the thrill; it became too routine. Then I started reading articles and hearing talk about profiling. Getting inside a criminal's head and figuring out what made them, what drove them to commit the crime. What were they thinking, what kind of personality traits did they posses, that sort of thing.
"Then I met Declan Gage, the first to use profiling to help solve cases. I learned from him and went through the NYPD academy. Worked my way up through the years until I got to Major Case. I've been there for 8 years now."
"Has Alex been your partner the whole time?"
"Since I've been at Major Case, yes. Eames is the only one who really gets me and can handle working with me. I can be…uh…unconventional and a handful at times. I've been told I'm an "acquired taste," he chuckled.
Amy smiled. "I'm sure it's been more exciting for you than you just made it out to be."
"It is; I just didn't think you wanted details about dead bodies over dinner." Bobby smiled at her as he took another bite of his food. He swallowed then washed it down with a sip of red wine. "This schnitzel is excellent, by the way. Who cooked it?"
"I did," Amy replied. "Don't look so shocked! I loved German cooking and missed it back here in the states. It was so hard to find places that could do a good job cooking it, that I learned how to do it myself. I'm glad you like it."
"My compliments to the chef," Bobby told her, raising his glass to her with a soft smile. She dipped her head in gracious acknowledgement of his thanks and smiled back.
The rest of their meal continued with small talk, each catching the other up on people they had known while overseas in Germany. When they were done, they each gathered up their dishes and Bobby followed Amy back to the kitchen. After placing the dirty dishes in the sink, Amy turned to Bobby. "Are you ready for dessert, or do you want to wait a little bit?"
"I'd like to wait, if you don't mind. How about some more wine," Bobby asked her, picking up the bottle and pouring more in his own glass.
Amy answered by handing him her glass. He reached out as if to take the glass, but instead merely placed his large hand over her smaller one, holding the glass still while he poured the ruby liquid into it. Amy glanced at him from underneath lowered lashes, but Bobby's face appeared smooth, unemotional; however, she sensed that he was well aware of what he was doing.