Readers, even thought the last chapter was just a little thing you still rev'd and added me to your lists, and I am oh so appreciative. Major thanks to TheOtherBella, this chapter is a different animal now thanks to her. I also have to thank my oldest (since 4th grade!) friend, Pineapple (that's an alias folks), for allowing me to use Peach Melba at all. It's actually her philosophy and it's oddly accurate. Read on for the genius that is The Peach Melba Test…

I don't own, I just play.

Chapter 2: The Peach Melba Test

Saturday September 2, 2009

The Peach Melba Test goes way back.

I once asked Sue why she married my father. Don't get me wrong; I think the man is wonderful, but he's not what you'd call good with words, or a great dancer, or a snappy dresser, or a great cook… you get the point. She said it had to do with peach melba ice cream.

"Go on…" I said, because really it begged for an explanation.

Her first husband of twenty-something years was a nice man. He was hard working and treated her well, and they had a very nice life together. They got married young after she became pregnant, and he was an excellent provider. She was happy. Things were simple and pleasant. That being said, she never once used the word "love." When I brought this up she said, "That's because his favorite ice cream was peach melba."

"What the hell is peach melba ice cream, Sue?"

"Yes, exactly," she said before she burst into a fit of laughter.

Peach melba. The name says it all right? Sounds like something a sweet southern lady with many floral hats and at least three cats would make on a Sunday afternoon. It was so… blah. No spice, no pizzazz, nothing of interest whatsoever. Now if my grandmother said her favorite ice cream was peach melba, I wouldn't think twice of it - but a grown man? You get the point.

The next question of course was: "So what's Charlie's favorite ice cream?" Other than the occasional root bear float, I didn't see Charlie eating much ice cream.

"Black walnut. He's a homemade classic, with a dark, indulgent streak." At the eyebrow waggle she gave me, I burst into fits of laughter myself. Some people shrink at embarrassment, I laugh like a loon. I was happy that Sue and my dad were together, but I didn't need to think about what warranted the eye waggle. After my little bout with embarrassed giggles, I was able to think about black walnut ice cream.

Oddly enough, Sue was right. Charlie was a classic. They didn't make guys like him anymore. As for dark and indulgent… well, God forbid someone even come close to hurting Sue and me, he'd became this coiled dragon ready to strike. For example, I was almost in a car accident in high school. I was in the parking lot when a classmate's car slipped on ice and started careening toward me. Luckily someone pulled me out of the way and I didn't have a scratch on me, but Charlie almost arrested the poor kid who was driving. Charlie was definitely black walnut ice cream.

Sue's philosophy only applied toward men, but since I didn't have one (although Jake's favorite flavor was Cherry Garcia); I used the philosophy toward everyone I met. As with most things, men were easier to explain away than women. Women are far too emotional for rational answers sometimes. Just as an example, when I first started at the delivery office there was another girl working with me. She was way too emo for her own good. She had this whole Renaissance Faire meets Marilyn Manson thing going on. I asked her what her favorite ice cream flavor was and her answer was chocolate chocolate chip because, "We live in a dark world that is only accented by further darkness." Spare me. I live in a coffee Heath bar crunch world because coffee is the elixir of the gods and Heath bars rock my socks.

I was meeting Rosie for the first time and along with bags and bags of jewelry, I was bringing ice cream too. Since it was just the way I rolled, I had to test her, ice cream-wise. So I decided to get something Peach Melba-ish, and something awesome. I was sure she would pass, but you can't be too careful. Rosie told me there was a well stocked mini-mart two blocks from her place. I wound up with Pistachio (an ice cream flavor that is a crime against ice cream), and Karamel Sutra – thank you Ben and Jerry for being so wonderful.

I was wearing a simple long, navy blue linen shift dress, some flip flops, a long chunky cuff that took me almost two weeks to finish, but I loved to pieces, and a turquoise beaded belt that Sue bought me for the beads, but was too pretty to cut up. I wear that thing all the time. Although it was officially September, it was still hot and soupy and I was grateful for my collection of desert-style, linen clothing.

I was in a large freight-type elevator going to the third floor of Rosie's building and was humming with anticipation. It was silly really, it wasn't like we didn't know each other – we spoke almost everyday. But we all know that speaking on a phone and speaking in person are totally different bags. When the elevator doors opened, there was Miss Cherry Pie herself in a deep blue kimono, barefoot, with her perfect blonde hair falling perfectly over her perfect shoulders. She was just as stunning in person as in every picture and web chat we'd had. I wish I could say that we didn't get all girly and emotional but… we got all girly and emotional.

"It's really you," she sniffled. I sniffled back in response.

We walked and sniffled down the hall to her apartment which was larger than mine (not that that was difficult), but by no means a loft either. The apartments in her building were originally larger industrial spaces that the owner had cut into three apartments. You could probably fit two and half of my studios into hers. First thing I noticed when I walked in were her two dining tables. One was a pretty glass table with candles and flowers on it, and the other was an old beat-up wood monstrosity covered in strips of leather, various colored suedes, and bags of zippers. I smiled at my fellow crafts-women as I handed her the ice cream bag. She pulled out the first pint and crinkled her nose.

"I really hope you like pistachio ice cream because it makes me gag." She reached for the second and I got the reaction I was hoping for. "But oooo, Bella, anything with caramel is my friend!"

"Oh, thank God! I am so glad you said that."

The Peach Melba Test was then dutifully explained.

"Oh man, I'm gonna have to ask Emmett tonight. Oh my God, Emmett! I can't believe I'm actually going on a date with that hunka hunka burning love."

"Seriously?"

"What? So I'm an Elvis fan… sue me."

"Fair enough. Is it fashion show time?"

"Oh, definitely."

We went through about four outfits before we decided on a simple, black cotton halter dress. It was practically shapeless on the hanger, but on, it hugged her chest then fell straight to her ankles so perfectly. It's the sexiest cotton dress I've ever seen, but somehow I know that it would just be a halter dress on me. Meh, that's ok, we can't all be Sweet Cherry Pies.

We then decided on this particularly awesome asymmetrical abalone shell necklace that rested perfectly over her left clavicle. She had some killer criss-cross copper flats that she had attacked with a hot glue gun – they were covered in thousands of little coppery studs, and along with one of her shredded to high hell brown suede bags, she was set. If even I was ready to jump her bones, I could only imagine how a hot blooded man was going to react.

Fashion finished, we gorged ourselves on ice cream. She ran everyday after all, she could spare the calories - plus, I suspect she was way more nervous than she was letting on.

"So do you know where he's taking you?"

"Nope. No idea. Oh jeez, Bella, what if it's someplace awful? What if he takes me to some cheesy Italian place 'cause he thinks it's romantic?"

"Then you grin and bear it and remember he's your hunka hunka burning love."

There was a silent beat then: "Shit, Bella. You know I haven't had a friend that was girl since college. I'm girlfriend repellent or something."

"Would that be because you reek of bitch and look like a pin-up?"

"Aww, gosh that's sweet."

"Ya, well. My only other friend is a gay man who I would marry if he would only lay off the men."

"I have to meet Jake someday by the way."

"Ya, you do, and I miss girl talk with a real girl, too." I glanced at my watch, "Oh man, it's 5:45. You have to get ready and I should go." We got up and hugged each other for a good solid minute. Before I walked out her door I had to make sure she would call me in the morning.

"I want details, young lady. If you don't call me before noon, I'm just going to assume there was some wonderful hunka hunka lovin' that went down."

"Bella, what kind of girl do you take me for? No nookie until the fifth date."

"You harlot, you."

"I only play one on TV."

"You know this is doing nothing for the cool hard ass bitch thing you think you're pulling off."

"You don't know the half it - I crochet too!"

I left her to primp and preen, calculating exactly how long it had been since I had to prep for a date. I was realizing it was something along the lines of eight months when a flash of blue and aqua caught my eye. I looked again and a saw the back of a head. She was tiny and could have been fourteen or so, but the clothes were way too fierce for a teen. She was wearing black dress shorts, a black vest, and a white tank. There were some impossibly high yellow heels on her feet, a killer leopard clutch, and her arms jingled with bangles. She walked like she was on a runway but it was her hair that had me drooling. She was sporting a black pixie cut, but there was every imaginable shade of blue highlighted through it. Then, when she passed under a street lamp I realized it wasn't black at all, but the darkest shade of blue. It was anime hair and it was amazing.

I stopped just slightly behind her at the crosswalk and continued to admire the fashion plate.

I want to be you when I grow up! What the hell, Bella? You are grown up; you're about to turn 30. Put on your big girl panties and…

"Stellar cuff."

Huh?

"Must have cost a fortune, not that it matters. Accessories make the outfit, as far as I'm concerned."

Why is Pixie cut talking to me?

"You can totally ignore me if I'm being nosy, but how much and where?"

"Free."

"Lucky bitch, some guy must really…"

"No, no. I mean I made it."

She looked at me and a slow devilish smile crept onto her perfectly little glossy lips.

"I'm Alice," her small non-bangled hand popped up to shake mine.

"Bella."

"So, Bella the jewelry designer, the belt yours too?"

"No actually, I was going to cut it up for beads but I like it too much as a belt."

"Wise decision," she said and we crossed the street. "I mean I'm all for repurposing but sometimes you just have to leave the good stuff in tact. Right?"

"Right."

"So, Bella, where do you sell your stuff and how can I get it?"

"Actually, right now I'm only selling on Etsy and ebay."

"See, that right there is a phenomenal shame; I mean, if the rest of your stuff is anything like this, then it should totally be at Saks, or oooo, maybe you should start coordinating with designers. I mean Stella's stuff has been a little blah lately, but can you just imagine what a burst of your stones would do?"

"Stella?"

"McCartney, of course."

"Oh, right of course."

"So, give me your card, I am so checking out your stuff tonight."

"I… don't have a card," I answered, a little embarrassed.

"Oh honey, we have got to get you hooked up! Let's do brunch tomorrow at my place, we can figure out this whole unfortunate situation."

"Umm, we've only just met though."

"Right, so what better way to get to know each other than brunch?"

"I guess nothing really."

I was so overwhelmed by the whirlwind that Alice apparently was, that I walked directly into something solid.

"OOOF!"

A pair of hands braced my shoulders.

"You okay there, ma'am?" asked a soft, calming, man's voice, there was a lilting quality to it, almost Southern.

I looked up to see a pair of blue eyes, looking concerned.

"I'm fine. Oh man, I'm sorry about that," I said as I took a step back.

"It's okay, Alice has that effect on people."

"Jasper! Don't scare her away just yet. I lose more friends this way, I swear."

Alice made her way to Jasper's side and kissed his cheek.

"Jasper, this is Bella, Bella, this is Jasper, my fiancé."

Jasper was about 5'10", long lean frame, but obviously strong. He was a seriously handsome man with a laid back subtle style that I didn't think Alice had a hand in. He seemed to radiate confidence and tranquility. They were an odd pair.

"It's nice to meet you. I actually only just met Alice two minutes ago?"

Jasper chuckled to himself.

"She's something, isn't she?"

"She certainly is."

It took me a minute to realize that we were standing in front of some trendy restaurant with a crowd of equally trendy people milling about.

"Bella and I are having brunch tomorrow. She's an incredibly talented jewelry designer and I've made it my mission to make her a wild success! Isn't that exciting?"

It was, but it was news to me.

"Alice, sweetheart, have you even asked Bella if she wants to be a wild success?"

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Jasper. Talent like hers needs to be exposed."

"Alice, really, this is very sweet, but I don't want you going out of your way to…"

"Out of my way? Oh please, Bella, this is what friends do, we go out of our way for each other."

"Wait, what? Friends?"

"Yes, friends. Didn't I tell you? We're going to be the best of friends."

I needed way more time than a few seconds to absorb everything but instead, I went with my gut.

"Well, then how can I say no, right?"

She squealed jumped up and down for a second then pulled me into hug. When I could breathe again, we exchanged numbers and settled on a time and place for our brunch. It wasn't too far away actually, a little Belgian place that she swore has amazing crepes. I said my goodbyes to Jasper, and promised Alice I'd be on time the following morning. They turned around and were about to walk into the restaurant when I shouted out to her.

"Alice! Hey, Alice!"

"Ya?"

"What's your favorite ice cream?"

She didn't blink, ask why, or hesitate for even a second.

"Anything with rainbow sprinkles on it!"

A/N

I happen to love rainbow sprinkles, anyone else? Let me know...