"So… question."
Alex and Marty were now driving to her house.
"Yeah?"
"Do you… do you really think I'm… I'm cute?"
Alex sighed. "We just started talking, but… yeah. I do."
Marty blushed.
"I know it's early but…"
"It's not your fault; your mom brought it up."
"I know… just a little embarrassed she put me on the spot."
She smiled as they pulled into the driveway, and looked into his eyes. "Thank you," she said gently, taking his hand; "I could have died… nobody else noticed me. I… I feel like I owe you so much…"
"You don't owe me a thing," he replied softly. "I was just doing what any good person would do."
"Should we head in?" Marty asked softly.
Alex, whose heart was racing, simply nodded.
When he entered, the first thing Alex noticed was that the living room looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens. There was blue everywhere: blue curtains, blue rugs, why, even the white sofa had a blue cover! A cream colored cat was on the sofa, and, noticing the new arrival, slowly opened a pair of eyes as blue as the room, letting out a lazy meow. Alex smiled as he slowly walked over to the cat, letting his scent be taken in. The cat began purring loudly, leaning into Alex's hand as he began petting it.
"Her name is Mocha," said Marty affectionately.
"She's a sweet baby," cooed Alex softly.
Alex slowly moved his hand away, and Mocha batted the hand with a paw, lazily meowing as if to say, "You're not done."
Marty's mother ran into the room, scooping Alex up in a tight embrace. "You saved my baby!" she practically sobbed. "You saved her!"
Alex smirked. "It was nothing," he wheezed.
When she let go, she smiled. "Dinner's almost ready; you relax."
He sat next to Mocha, who lazily plodded into his lap, kneading with her paws before sitting in a purring loaf.
"Dad had to work late." Marty smiled as she sat next to Alex, propping her feet on an ottoman just as blue as the drapes. "He fought in the war, y'know."
"So did mine. European theater. Lucky fool missed D-Day by a hair."
"They needed Italians for the invasion of Italy. Dad speaks the language, so off he went. I'm third generation Italian-American. Nonno came over from Venice with Nonna just before Word War One."
"My family has lived in this country since just before the Revolution," said Alex. "I grew up in a rough part of Chicago while dad was switching to a civilian job… so I know my way around a fight."
"How do you know your way around a car?"
"My uncle's a mechanic. He taught me. Even helped me with my own car."
Marty curled her toes and sighed. "I'm sorry your mom embarrassed you…"
"It's alright… was gonna come up sooner or later, anyway. I know it's not my business, but… I was told, after I saved you… Sonny thinks you're his girlfriend?"
"Sonny isn't my type," Marty said with a shrug. "He's too juvenile… too… rambunctious, for lack of a better term. He's not like…". She sighed. "Like some of the other guys I know."
"I'm sorry…"
"It's fine…". She sighed. "Love isn't easy for me."
"Love isn't easy for anyone… it takes work."
"It's a bit harder for me than most… I…". She sighed. "I'll fill you in at some point… for now, I'm famished." She smiled, her eyes just a bit teary.
Alex smiled back, curious as to what Marty's experience had been. He decided to let the matter rest. She'd tell him in time. For now… it was time for dinner.
