Then I called Mattie. I needed to hear a friendly voice.
Chapter 10
Mattie
“I’m coming,” I called and then laughed to myself at how silly that sounded. Dripping wet after climbing out of the tub, I wrapped a towel around my body and grabbed my cell phone off a table.
“Hey stud muffin,” I said holding my phone in one hand and hopping on one foot over to a chair. “It’s only been a few hours. Miss me already?”
“Sure. Mattie, we have to talk.” His voice sounded odd, the words clipped. A familiar chill went through my heart.
He’s going to tell me he wants to remain friends. I knew this one was too good to be true.
“Okay,” I said carefully. “What about?”
“I can’t really say but I just want you to know...hey, how’s the foot?”
“Not bad. I can almost put weight on it now.”
“Good. Good. Do you need stronger painkillers because I could...”
“No, no. The Tylenol is enough.”
“Alright.”
I squeezed the water out of my hair with a towel. “So what do you want to talk to me about? Having second thoughts already because I totally understand. You sort of got tricked into being my doctor last night. That whole being in the wrong place at the right time and all. I mean, if you’re going to tell me you have a girlfriend or a...You don’t have a girlfriend do you?”
“Nope. No girlfriend.”
I let out the breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding. I so didn’t want him to be married. That would have been a deal breaker for me. At least that question was out of the way. I believed him. He seemed way too sweet to lie to me.
“Sorry. You were saying...”
“I want to invite you to a wedding.”
“A wedding?”
“Yeah. To be my date.”
“Sounds like fun. When is it?”
“I’m not sure.” A nervous laugh bubbled out as if he were trying to cover something up.
Maybe he was married after all. No, this was something else. Perhaps he wasn’t happy about whomever was getting married? First things first. “So how can you invite me to this wedding unless you know when it is?”
“It’s in a couple of months. I know that much. I just don’t know the exact date.”
“Okay. Got a ballpark?”
“Be right there.” His voice sounded muffled. “Mattie, you still there?”
“I am.”
“Good, good. I’m at the hospital actually and I gotta run. I’ll check the invitation when I get home. Would that be okay?”
“Sure. No problem. Anything else?”
A long pause.
“Steve—”
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. Listen, I wanted to take you to dinner tonight, but turns out I have to work. In fact, I’ll be working a lot this week, but I really want to see you again.”
“Oh. Okay.” My heart filled with joy. He does want to see me after all; he’s just a busy doctor.
“Great. Any objection to the cafeteria? I know it’s not very romantic. Or private, but I want to be accessible to one of my patients in case she needs me.”
“No objection at all. That would be lovely but on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You let me cook for you. I’ll bring the meal and we’ll eat it in the canteen.”
“Great. Then it’s a date. Say, eight o’clock? It will be pretty empty at that time.”
“I’ll be there. Oh and Steven...”
“Yeah.”
“Your patient will be fine. She’s got you in her corner.”
“I certainly hope so.”
I hung up the phone.
As I shrugged into my clothes, I wondered what the hell got into me? Telling Steven I would cook. I don’t cook. I can barely make toast and half the time I burn that. How the hell am I going to get out of this one?
Kyle!
After blow drying my hair, I hit him on speed dial.
Mattie: Hey how do you make lasagna?
Mattie: And a salad.
Mattie: And maybe homemade Italian bread to go with it.
Kyle: LMAO
Mattie: What’s so funny? I just need a recipe and I’ll follow it.
Kyle: Sorry. I just peed myself laughing so hard. You don’t cook.
Mattie: Sure I do.
Kyle: Don’t you remember in sixth-grade when you had to make that tuna casserole in Home Economics?
Mattie: Hey, how did I know you had to watch that stuff cook every freaking second? I had other things to do.
Kyle: Right. The sprinkler system doused not just your frying mess but everyone else’s in the room. I had to stop those girls from lynching you.
Figures he’d bring that up.
Mattie: The recipe wasn’t clear.
Kyle: It was clear. You’re the one who wasn’t clear that day.
Mattie: Whatever.
Kyle: When was the last time you cooked anyway?
Mattie: Um...
Kyle: Try never. That’s when.
Mattie: So. How hard can it be? Just text me the recipes.
Kyle: Why?
Mattie: What do you mean, why?
Kyle: Why do you want to cook all of a sudden? Oh wait, you’re cooking for Doctor Russo, aren’t you?
Mattie: Maybe
Kyle: And does he know he’s placing his life in your hands by eating something you’ve cooked?
Mattie: Way to boost my confidence, Kyle.
Kyle: I can see it now. All over the headlines. JEWISH GIRL POISONS DOCTOR. LOL.
Mattie: Very funny.
Kyle: How about this? I’ll make dinner. That way we don’t deprive the world of a good doctor.
Mattie: You’d do that for me?
Kyle: Of course. You’re my best friend.
Mattie: Awe, you are so sweet.
Kyle: I know. When do you need this for?
Mattie: Tonight.
Kyle: Christ!
Mattie: Sorry.
Kyle: It’s okay. I don’t have anything going on anyway. I’ll be over in a little while. Have to stop at the market first.
Mattie: Thank you, Kyle. You’re the best.
Kyle: I know lol.
Chapter 11
Steven
I was late.
Only by fifteen minutes but when I gazed on the spread Mattie set out for the two of us—a linen tablecloth, French bread in a wicker basket, two wine goblets, gleaming china on a small table in the corner of the cafeteria, my heart started to sing. Oh man, home cooked food! Yum.
This gorgeous woman cooked for me! She actually cooked. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman cooked for me. Besides Nonna that is.
“Hi,” I said approaching the table. “Sorry, I’m late.” I handed her a long-stem red rose with a tiny vial of water on the end I’d purchased from the gift shop on the one and only break I’d had all day.
“How sweet. It’s lovely, Steven. Thank you.” After sniffing the flower, she placed it to the side. “I hope you like lasagna,” she said, smiling with those lovely lips I yearned to sink my teeth into.
“Mattie, I’m Italian,” I replied.
“Oh, that’s right.”
I took a seat on the opposite side of the table, pushed up the sleeves on my scrub coat. “Wow, this looks great. I’d no idea you were going to go to all this trouble. I better eat fast. Be a shame if I get called away before I’m finished.” I picked up the bottle of what I thought was wine. “But we can’t drink...”
“It’s only grape juice, Steven. I’m not that ignorant.” Plucking the bottle from my grip, she turned it over, and handed it back to me. “See the label? No alcohol. Grape juice.” She laughed. “I know its grape juice but it actually has a cork.”
“Probably so kids would think they’re drinking the real stuff.”
“I never thought of that.”
I took the cork screw she handed me and opened the bottle. Then I poured j
uice into two plastic glasses. I held one up. “A toast?”
“Great idea. What shall we toast?”
“How about to sprained ankles?”
“To sprained ankles,” I said with a chuckle. We clinked our glasses together. Or as close to clinking as two plastic cups can do.
“If I hadn’t sprained my ankle, we never would have met,” she said.
“We would have met.”
She looked up from her drink. “We would have?”
“Sure. That night, I’d been trying to get up the courage to talk to you when you saved me the trouble.”
“Oh, were you now? I didn’t know that.”
“I’m a little on the shy side.”
“And what would you have said to me had I not fallen in your lap that night?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Oh come on, Steven. I bet you have the perfect pickup line. How often do you go to The Thirsty Turtle anyway?”
“First time.”
“Seriously? Because it looked as if you had a whole posse of doctors that partied there all the time.”
“They do, but I don’t. I’m more of a loner actually.”
“So what made you change your mind that night? Did you see in your crystal ball that there was a hot blonde in need of a knight in shining amour?”
I laughed. “Something like that.”
She nodded studying me. The gold flecks in her shimmering green eyes reminded me of amber, one of the oldest and most coveted treasures. Yes, this woman was a treasure, I thought to myself.
Slow down, Russo. You are not a romantic nor are you someone who gets swept away on a first date. Well, technically this was the second or was it the third date?
She plucked two plastic containers from a cooler set by her feet. After removing the cover on one, she placed a salad in front of me.
“Salad,” I said stupidly.
“Yes, and homemade dressing. I hope you like poppy seeds. If you don’t I also have French and Italian, although the poppy seed dressing is the only one that is fresh.”
“I love poppy seed dressing.”
“Great, here you go.” She placed the bottle of dressing by my bowl.
“I’m afraid the bread is purchased but they did make it this morning in Leo’s Bakery. Oh, but the butter is seasoned and whipped too.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, well...Bon Appétit.”
I poured dressing on my salad and took a bite while Mattie sliced off chunks of bread. She placed them on a plate. The whipped butter had specs of something green mixed in. It smelled delicious.
“Wow, you really went all out,” I said. I took slathered butter on the bread and took a bite. “Mmmm. What did you season the butter with? No, don’t tell me. I’m detecting garlic of course, thyme, and... basil I think.” I paused, chewing. “A hint of rosemary. There’s something else I can’t quite get though.” I took another bite of bread.
“No,” Mattie said. “No, that’s all of it.”
“Really. Hmm. I have very sharp taste buds. Sharper than most people. There’s something else in this. I just know it.”
“Nothing else. Those are the spices.”
“You sure? How about cinnamon? And tarragon?”
Tarragon! No one would adds tarragon to butter. It tastes like licorice. I certainly would detect the taste of tarragon.
“Oh yes, tarragon. I forgot.”
Definitely no tarragon. So why would she lie?
“Ready for the main course?”
“Sure am.”
She removed a layer of aluminum foil, then took off the cover to the lasagna pan. My mouth salivated and I licked my lips. Glistening melted cheese covered the noodles, just the way I liked it.
Mattie touched the cool base of the chafing dish. “Darn, it’s not hot anymore. I’m sorry. It’s lukewarm.”
“Not to worry. I’m sure it’s delicious,” I said.
She sliced up a serving and placed it on my plate. “I hope you still like it.”
“Of course I’ll like it.” Who knew having a beautiful woman cook for me—or even going to the trouble of having someone else cook for me—would be such a turn-on. When she bit her bottom lip like a child waiting for my approval, my cock pulsed against my zipper. Crazy. What was it about this woman that made me want to fuck her into oblivion? Luckily there was lots of room inside my scrub-pants.
“So how is it?” she asked leaning over the table, her chin popped up on clasped hands. “Not too cold, Steven? It tastes alright?”
I held up a finger. I couldn’t respond right away because my mouth was bursting with the favors of rich spicy tomatoes, fresh herbs and the earthy tang of different kinds of cheeses simmering along my pallet. I didn’t know when or if I’d be called away for an emergency so I was eating too fast. I was also starving. I mumbled my approval.
“Oh good because he didn’t... I mean.... Great.” Her face turned a little pink.
She spent the rest of our date watching me eat with only occasionally picking at her own food. Finally, I dabbed my mouth with a napkin and said, “This was absolutely the best almost homemade meal I ever had in my life. Thank you.”
Her brows knit together and she leaned back in her chair.
“What do you mean almost homemade?”
“Sweetheart, I know you didn’t cook this but it’s fine. I’m touched that you went through all this trouble.”
She stuck her bottom lip out. “Well, someone cooked it.”
“Like I said, it’s fine. Delicious actually.”
“I didn’t buy it at a deli., if that’s what you think.”
“Listen, you don’t have to explain. I appreciate the effort. Really I do.” I took a sip of grape juice.
“Okay, cat’s out of the bag. If you want to know the truth. Kyle made it.”
I paused mid-swallow. My whole body stiffened and this time it had nothing to do with my pants.
“You asked your boyfriend to cook for me? That’s a little unconventional, don’t you think?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s a boy and he’s my friend, but he’s not my boyfriend. No, that’s not right either. Kyle is a man. Why am I defending myself to you?”
“Not your boyfriend,” I muttered.
“You don’t believe me?”
I didn’t know what to believe to be honest. If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared. “Then tell me this,” I said. “Does he know that we slept together?”
Her eyes narrowed. For a minute there I thought she was going to throw the cooler at me.
“Now who’s being unconventional? Why would I tell anyone that? Let alone Kyle. It’s no one’s business. I told you, Kyle is my friend. We’ve known each other since childhood.”
“Not your boyfriend,” I repeated mostly for my own ears.
“No! Did you not hear me the first time?”
“So you’ve never slept with him either.”
The look in her eyes told me all I needed to know. This was me, the third wheel, until she figured out which one of us she wanted. Not sure I wanted that particular position. What man would?
The redhead from ICU stomped into the room. “Doctor Russo! Oh my God, I’m glad I found you. It’s Mrs. Baker. She’s gone into cardiac arrest.”
“I’ll just...” I grabbed the last heel of bread, shoved it in my mouth. Probably because I didn’t want to put my foot in it anymore. Damn, I’ve made a mess of this whole thing, but I knew there was nothing I could do to save myself. I nodded toward Mattie, then climbed off the bench. Without another word, I grabbed my coat which I’d draped over the back of the chair, muttered my regrets, and ran out of the cafeteria.
Chapter 12
Mattie
Sunday
“Thanks for giving me a ride,” I told Kyle as we turned off the exit ramp en-route toward New Hope Rescue Mission.
“Mattie, you really need to get a car someday.”
“Then I’d
have to drive. I hate driving.”
“Why?”
“There’s all those...rules you have to obey. I’m no good at rules, Kyle.”
“I will never understand why you take buses. You don’t have to. Shit, you could have your own private driver if you wanted.”
“So.”
“So buy a car. Hire a chauffeur. Hell, hire me to drive you around. Wait, I already do that for free.”
“Are we going to have this conversation again? I told you before. I like people and if I have a driver I’ll never meet anyone new. Thank you again.”
“It’s okay. At least I know you’ll show up safe and sound. Two stabbings right around the corner just last week. Not a great neighborhood ya know.”
“I know.”
“So having a regular driver would be safer. Or buy a car for once in your life.” He took his eyes off the road for just a second, giving me that look he always gave me when he wasn’t happy with my behavior.
“Sometimes you’re as bad as my mother,” I said. “I did have a car. Remember? I gave it to that homeless mother.”
“Nice move by the way.”
“Well, she needed it and I didn’t.”
“We won’t discuss that. Still a nice thing to do.”
“Not why I did it.”
“I know.”
“So is the good doctor picking you up tonight or do I have to come get you when you’re done?”
“He uh...”
“He is coming, isn’t he?”
“I think so. Yes, of course he is. He hasn’t said otherwise.” I didn’t know and I was almost afraid to find out. I’d held off calling Steven for a reason, telling myself I knew how incredibly busy he was and I didn’t want to be one of those clingy girlfriends anyway. There was that and just plain fear. After the way we’d left things in the cafeteria, I didn’t know where we stood. Still, I needed to give him directions, didn’t I?
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