“Well,I don't usually go on dates, so I guess we're even. Now,” I said, reaching outto take her by the hand and pull her into the restaurant, “I'm gonna make you apizza.”
Herlaugh bounced off the brick walls of the empty restaurant, and although weserved a crowded house on a daily basis these days, no sound had ever made mefeel so full.
“Wejust ate!”
Leadingher toward the kitchen door, I glanced over my shoulder, cocking a browincredulously. “So?”
“So,how the hell am I gonna eat a whole pizza?”
“Andy,”I laughed, shaking my head and pushing through the swinging doors, “there'salwaysroom for pizza.”
***
I hadjust scratched the surface of my troubled past, with the expectation that she’drun for the hills. Yet, there we were, leaning over either side of the counter,facing each other, with a fresh pie between us. Her smile never faltered, andshe laughed at all my jokes. Every now and then, I caught myself tangled in thehope that this moment could last forever.
“How’syour dad doing?” she asked, pinching an olive between her fingers and poppingit into her mouth.
Igroaned dramatically. “Do wehaveto talk about him right now?”
Andycocked her head and smirked. “Why not?”
“Because…” There were about a thousand obnoxious and chauvinistic things I could’vesaid, a thousand things to hide the truth. But with Andy, I found I didn’t wantto lie. “Because, for the first time in days, I haven’t thought about him. Andthat might make me an asshole, but it feels really good to be thinking aboutsomething else.”
Hereyes softened and her smile wilted as she shook her head. “It doesn’t make youan asshole. You might be caring for your dad, but you have to think aboutyourself, too.”
“Yeah,but I mean, my dad’s fuckin’ dying, so …” I wet my lips and steered my gazeaway from her, to stare at the old picture of Pops in front of the shop whenhe’d first bought it. He was so young then, so full of hope. Ma hadn’t left himyet, Zach and I hadn’t gotten wrapped up in drugs, and he hadn’t spent decadesof his life trying to make ends meet. He also hadn’t known then that, at theage of seventy-five, he’d be given an expiration date. I mean, we all have one,but most of us have no idea when our time’s gonna run out. Pops, though …
Myeyes welled up and I cleared my throat, shaking my head and turning my eyesback on the pizza. “Anyway, uh, what’s your family like?”
“Youcan be sad, you know,” she said quietly, ignoring my half-hearted question. “Ideal with sad people on a pretty regular basis. You don’t have to—”
“Please,don’t.”
Shehesitated, blinking and stunned, before asking, “Don’t, what?”
“Don’ttreat me like one of your patients.”
Andyblew out a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Iimmediately felt like an asshole and pushed a hand through my hair, shaking myhead. “Nah, don’t apologize. I’m just not good with talking about hard shit.”
“Well,if you ever do want to talk, I’m pretty good at listening.”
Mymouth lifted in a half-smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
***
FamigliaBella wasn't located in Times Square, the heart of the city where the lightsare bright around the clock. The little pizzeria was shoved deep in aresidential area, currently surrounded by dark apartment buildings and theirsleeping inhabitants. So, when I pulled the metal security shutter down overthe door, I winced as the metallic rattling sliced through the quiet,disturbing the peace.
“Shhhh,”I hissed, as I locked it into place. But, despite my stern warning, the secondhadn't made any attempt to be quieter. “Fucking hell.”
Andygiggled, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “What's so funny?” I asked, and shereplied, “I don't think it listened.”
“Whatcan ya do?” I shrugged, and then, I stared at the dirty sidewalk as my mouthwas sucked dry.
Nowwhat?The distraction of the restaurant was behind us and Ihadn’t thought this far ahead. I couldn’t walk her home—she lived out on LongIsland—and I wasn’t going to invite her back to my place. Not with Pops there,not this time. I was clueless and I stood still, taking my time as I struggledto come up with something to occupy our time.
Andjust like that, as if by magic, a tune started to gently float through thesticky summer air. It came from above, from an apartment a few floors up, andit echoed softly through the narrow canyon of concrete and stone. I didn’trecognize the song, and judging from the indie sound of it, it wasn’t my thing.But it was upbeat, it felt romantic, and it was there. So, without anotherthought, I let the melody move my body, and I grabbed Andy, with one hand onher waist and the other fumbling to find hers.
