Pizza My Heart 1

by Glenna Sinclair

  This…this was really nice. It was really special. I had to tell Devon how much this meant to us.

  He was chatting with a couple of people across the yard, but he looked at me while I studied him, flashing me a smile. It wasn’t one of those perfect grins from his movie posters. It was a sincere, genuine gesture. I could feel it.

  God help me, I smiled right back. He excused himself from his conversation and picked his way across the yard to us.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, still smiling.

  “Oh yes,” I said. “I just…I really wanted to thank you for this, Devon. This is so wonderful to be here. I never would’ve thought this would be possible.”

  “You’re having a good time?” he asked. “I understand that you really didn’t want to come.”

  “I never imagined that it could be this good,” I confessed. “I don’t know. Everything just happened so fast that I guess I didn’t know what to expect.”

  “I’m really glad you all came,” he said. “I wanted to come back here because of how amazing it was the first time, but I suppose I didn’t know just how much more amazing it would be if I could share this experience with you all. I’ve always wanted to take someone here.”

  Devon was really close to me—or I was really close to him—and it scared me a bit that I cared so little. It was nice to have him so close. I liked this. But then I realized that I was making eyes at him with my grandmother sitting right next to me, so I scooted away.

  “It’s a magical place,” I said. “Don’t you think, Nana?”

  “Uh-oh,” Devon remarked. “Looks like she crashed out.”

  She was snoring, her mouth open in her classic pose.

  “Oh,” I said, then laughed. “It’s been an exciting day for her. I’ll wheel her back inside.”

  As soon as I unlocked the brakes to her wheelchair, she jolted awake.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “You fell asleep at the party, Nana,” I told her. “I’m taking you inside so you can be more comfortable.”

  “Lord,” she remarked. “I haven’t passed out cold at a party since well before your time.”

  “Okay, Nana.” I laughed, filing that piece of information away in the part of my brain I liked to label “things I didn’t care to know about my grandmother.” Every single one of her leers resided there.

  “I guess I overdid it with the rum and sodas,” she explained.

  “Well, you’re wiser, now,” I told her. “And today’s been a big day. I’m even thinking about going to sleep.”

  “Nana, I thought you said you wanted another cocktail,” another partygoer said, approaching us with a red cup full of soda and ice. “I made this one extra strong, just like you asked me.”

  “Whoops,” Nana commented.

  “You mean you’re drinking rum and sodas right now?” I screeched, outraged. How could I have missed this? We were sitting right next to each other. Was I really so distracted by the food and revelry—and the sight of a happy, relaxed Devon—that I didn’t notice my own grandmother getting lit beside me?

  “We’re on vacation,” she offered.

  “Nana, Milo is going to murder me,” I said, pulling her out and away from the table and wheeling her around toward the cottage. “If he doesn’t murder me, he’s definitely going to murder you. Alcohol is the number one worst thing you could have on your diet.”

  “His job is to keep me alive,” she said dismissively. “He’s not going to murder me. Definitely not if he never finds out.”

  “He’s going to throw me in jail for letting you do this to yourself,” I told her, rolling my eyes at Devon, whose shoulders were shaking with barely repressed laughter. “Is that what you want, Nana? For your granddaughter to spend the rest of her life in jail because of elder abuse?”

  “I’m not abused, I’m buzzed,” she argued, and Devon guffawed so loud, it momentarily drowned out the music.

  I tried to glare at him, but I had to laugh, too—albeit behind Nana’s back so she couldn’t see me.

  “You’re not going to be so buzzed when Milo says you can’t follow the rules,” I told her, wheeling her away from the party and into the relative quiet of the cottage, carefully negotiating the handful of stairs.

  “I’ll do extra exercises in the morning,” she said. “I need to have fun every once in a while. You’re the one who told me that.”

  “You better not tell Milo I told you that,” I warned her, easing her wheelchair into her snug little room.

  “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  I helped her out of her clothes, pulling her pajamas from the drawer where I’d folded them earlier today. It was still hard to believe we were in Hawaii. Once she was safely in her nightgown, I helped her gingerly into bed.

  “You’ve never asked me about your parents,” Nana said suddenly as I tucked her in, unable to separate this moment from all the times she’d tucked me into my own bed as a child.

  “I’m not interested in my parents,” I said lightly. It was funny how time changed things. I’d once burned with the desire for this piece of knowledge. I realized that I didn’t so much as know their names beyond the last name I’d been given.

  “You should be,” she said. “They’re your family.”

  “You’re my family.”

  “Yes, but one day, I’m not going to be around anymore.”

  “Are you going to move in with some hot lover, Nana?” I joked.

  “Very funny.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.” I’d been at her side for every stage of her unstoppable illness, but the idea that she wouldn’t be with me someday still seemed impossible.

  “It doesn’t matter whether or not you want to talk about it. It’s something we have to talk about. Wouldn’t you want to know how to connect with your family after I’m gone?”

  “Not really, Nana, no.”

  “But family’s important, June. What about your mother?”

  I sighed. What I did know about my family history was that my mother was Nana’s daughter—her real daughter—that she had been so disappointed in that she had taken me away to raise on her own. The way Nana told it—or didn’t tell it—was that my biological mother had quite eagerly given me up.

  “Nana, you’re more of a mother to me than she ever was,” I said. “You’re all the family I need. I don’t want to reconnect with my parents. They didn’t care enough about me in the first place. Why should I care about them? Now, get some rest. We’ve had a long day, and you’re tired.”

  “I suppose I am tired,” she allowed. “Good night, June. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Nana,” I said, an unexpected lump forming in my throat. What was wrong with me? What was going on with Nana? We’d never talked like this before. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that she was preparing to go and die on me. At least I could blame this sudden spurt of sentimentality on rum.

  “June?” she called as I was easing the door to her room shut.

  “Nana?” I poked my head back in. “Do you need something else?”

  “You’re awfully hard on Devon, you know.”

  I took a few moments to turn that statement over in my brain. “How do you mean?”

  “He’s obviously head over heels for you.”

  I snorted. “Highly unlikely, Nana.” There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hot hell that Devon was in love with me. Did he want to have sex with me? Yes—that much was clear to me. But it wasn’t because he was in love with me. It was because I was a novelty to him, a completely ordinary woman who somehow kept turning him down. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, and I was a refreshing departure from the norm. That was the extent of the attraction. That was all.

  “Open your eyes, June. He’s in love with you. Why else would we be here, in Hawaii, with him?”

  “It’s really complicated, Nana.” She obviously had been pick
ing up on some of the words Devon and I had been exchanging, the feelings we cycled through together, but I couldn’t pinpoint how much she knew about everything. It wasn’t a conversation I felt like having with her.

  “Devon’s a nice boy,” she said. I almost turned the light back on just to see what kind of expression she had on her face. She had to have been joking.

  “He tries to be a nice boy, maybe,” I allowed, “but he doesn’t succeed very often.”

  “Look at where we are, girl,” Nana said. “Hawaii. I’ve never seen somebody try so hard in all my life. You should let him know, at least.”

  “Let him know what?”

  “That you see him trying. That you know it’s hard for him. Everyone struggles differently. You should know that.”

  “Nana, the only struggling Devon does is deciding if he wants the filet mignon or the lobster tail, and then orders both just because he can.” I sighed. “You really need your rest, now.”

  “Think about it, June.”

  “I will if you promise to try and go to sleep.” It was like babysitting a child with her sometimes. I had to cajole her to do things.

  “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  I shut the door and turned to face Devon, who had been standing there in the hallway for God only knew how long.

  “I’d choose the lobster tail,” he said, his face unreadable. “I like seafood better than steak.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” I said, feeling sheepish and shitty.

  “But you meant to say it.”

  I sighed. “I don’t know what I meant to say. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he said.

  “For what?” What could he possibly be sorry for? He’d taken Nana and me to Hawaii, for God’s sake.

  “For this.” He stepped forward quicker than I could react and kissed me square on the lips. He stepped away just as fast, putting some space between us.

  I was so surprised and dazzled that I saw bursts of light behind my eyelids in the dim hallway. It was probably just the jet lag, and that I was tired from everything we’d done today. Or it might’ve been just how good that kiss felt. How right.

  “You can kick me square in the balls,” he said seriously. “But I had to do it, June. I had to kiss you. I had to know what it was like.”

  “And?” I whispered.

  “And what?”

  “What was it like?”

  He was silent for several long moments, looking down at his feet, gauging his response.

  “Worth the wait,” he said finally.

  I wanted to say something, to do something, but I was frozen in place. Not only had he kissed me, he’d liked it. It blew my mind because he was so famous, and I was such a nobody, but it also did impossible things to my heart. I realized, in that strange moment, that I was falling in love with him, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  He left me standing there in the hallway, rejoining the party, and I meekly slipped into my own bedroom and went to sleep, smiling at the memory of his lips against mine, the fireworks that had gone off in my brain.

  I woke up late the next morning—or at least late by Dallas standards. It was already midday back home, even though it was only dawn here.

  I got out of bed to check on Nana, but she was already awake, dressed, and in her wheelchair.

  “Who helped you?” I demanded sleepily, peering at her.

  “I helped myself,” she said.

  “You better not ruin this vacation by falling and winding up in the hospital,” I told her. “You’ll only have yourself to blame.”

  “Don’t fuss at me,” she said, flapping her hand at me. “Don’t you think my hangover is punishment enough?”

  I had to laugh. “Oh, Nana. Poor Nana. Let’s get you some breakfast.”

  Devon was in the kitchen, cutting up fruit when we arrived, and I stopped short of the threshold.

  “Good morning,” Nana said pleasantly, making him look up. I sighed and pushed her forward, unable to remain in the hallway any longer.

  “There you all are,” he said, grinning. “Nana, I’m making you a local cure for what ails you. All my friends are drinking the exact same thing this morning.”

  “I’m glad to know I’m in good company,” she said with dignity.

  He tossed the fruit into a blender with some ice, doused it liberally with rum, and set it to mix. I waited until the machine came to a stop.

  “Nice,” I said. “She can’t have that.”

  “Live a little, June,” Devon said, winking at me. “You two are on vacation.”

  “That’s just what I told her last night,” Nana said, taking the boozy smoothie that Devon had made her.

  “Well, what would you like to do today, Nana?” I said, trying to ignore the fact that she was, more or less, sucking down a daiquiri for breakfast. Jail was too good for me.

  “I’m going to rest this morning,” she said innocently. “I think I’ve earned that. But I’d like for you two to do me a favor.”

  “We can all wait to do something until you feel better,” I told her. “It’s early here. We have the entire day ahead of us.”

  “I don’t want to ruin your kids’ fun because I had mine last night,” she said, waving away my concerns. “I want you to go into town and find something pretty for the house, something we can remember this wonderful trip by, June.”

  “If you lay off the rum for the rest of the time, Nana, I’m sure you’ll be able to remember things fine on your own,” I told her.

  “And I’d like a bouquet of those beautiful flowers I saw on our way here,” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “I think a vase of those would brighten up the kitchen table, don’t you?”

  “Definitely,” Devon agreed.

  “Nana, why don’t we just wait until this afternoon, so we can all go?” I asked. “I don’t want to leave you alone in the house.”

  “If you want to hang around here and be bored while I take a nap, be my guest,” she said, slurping her smoothie. “But if I were you, I’d seize the day, girl.”

  “Let’s leave Nana to her nap,” Devon suggested, raising his eyebrows at me. “Come on. I want to show you around.”

  I didn’t know what to expect after that searing kiss in the hallway, but Devon was a perfect gentleman, introducing me to his friends and exploring the marketplace with me. He selected a delicate purple orchid from a stem, placing it in the rubber band of my ponytail.

  “Beautiful,” he pronounced.

  “The orchids are very pretty.”

  “I’m not talking about the orchid, June.”

  I cut my eyes at him. “I’m no Hollywood actress, Devon.”

  “That’s why I like you.”

  “Don’t.”

  I gasped as he pulled me into a side alley, but before I could protest further, he kissed me deeply, just as hot, just as burning as last night.

  “What are you doing?” I asked softly.

  “Why can’t you accept the fact that you’re gorgeous?” he asked. “Accept the fact that we want each other, June. You know it, and I know it. Just let it happen. Tell me yes.”

  I ached for him in places I didn’t know could ache.

  “There are people everywhere,” I whispered.

  “Then we better be quiet.” He unbuttoned my jean shorts, worked his hand beneath the cotton of my panties.

  “They could see us,” I moaned as he found the place where I ached the most.

  “Then we better be quick.”

  He slipped his cock out of his trousers, and then it was the easiest thing in the world to wrap my legs around him, my back pressed against the backside of some building, and take him inside of me. It was the culmination of long days of tension, hours of need that I had tried to write off as being annoyed at him. With each pump of his hips, I let my head loll back, reveling in that pleasure.

  It had been a long damn time for me, and Devon knew what he was
doing.

  I moaned once, too loud, and bit his shoulder to stymie any other noises. That was the last thing we needed—an audience.

  “You’re perfect,” he whispered in my ear, his lips tickling the sensitive skin there. When I shuddered, he trailed kisses down my neck, nibbling the juncture at my shoulder. It was all I could do to stay silent. I wanted to scream my pleasure to the world.

  “I could stay inside you all day,” he told me, and it sounded so fucking sexy. I imagined us taking our time, with nothing but sun-soaked hours to take our pleasure in each other. That would be so much hotter than in an alley, but I’d take what I could get.

  “You need to come,” I told him.

  “Ladies first.”

  It was already late afternoon by the time we got back to the cottage, even though it seemed as if no time had passed at all.

  “Nana, we’re home,” I said, putting the bouquet of flowers on the table. “Are you awake? Feeling better? Need another hair of the dog?”

  She didn’t answer. I went through all of the bedrooms looking for her, but it didn’t really panic until I saw her oxygen tank left on the floor in the entryway.

  “Where could she have gone?” I all but wailed, clutching my hair in two handfuls.

  “Stop,” Devon admonished. “We’ll find her. We just have to think.”

  “Her oxygen tank is right here,” I said, pointing viciously to the floor. “She needs it, Devon. She needs it to breathe.”

  “She can’t have gone far,” he reasoned. “We’ll find her very quickly.” How was his voice so calm? Maybe if it were his nana, he’d be more upset. His logic enraged and panicked me.

  “How can we find her if we don’t even know where she is?” I demanded. “This isn’t like her to just disappear. What if someone took her?”

  “June, no one in this village would take your nana,” Devon said. “Maybe she just felt like getting out and getting some fresh air.”

  “But in her wheelchair?” I moaned. “Without her oxygen tank?”

  “Come on.”

  Devon led the charge out the front door of the cottage, laughing shortly as he pointed at the wooden steps. I followed his finger to see some black streaks of rubber on the edges of the stairs.