All the Ugly and Wonderful Things(60)

“So did I. I felt like such a jackass waking you up, but then you were so nice, like you were glad to see me.”

Wavy was maybe getting ready to say something else, but the waiter came back before she could. He looked at our hands together on the table, but I didn’t pull mine back. It wasn’t none of his business.

“Are you finished with your salads?”

I was. Wavy hadn’t touched hers, but the waiter took them both away when she nodded. After our dinners came, she pushed her plate off to the side to watch me eat. When the waiter came back with my third drink, he said, “Is there a problem? Is her entrée not to her liking?”

“No, it’s fine. She’ll just need a box.”

We got to giggling after the waiter was gone. Wavy took her fork and moved the food around on her plate, and I ate a few bites to make it look better.

After I finished my steak, she scooted around the booth to sit next to me. Her dress strap was slipping down her arm so I lifted it back into place. I couldn’t believe how soft the back of her neck was, where her hair was sneaking out of its pins. I’d never seen her hair up like that.

“This is a really nice birthday present. You planning it for me. Nobody ever did that for me.”

She kissed my cheek, and that was when the waiter came back with the check. I didn’t say a word when Wavy added up the tip and counted her money into the leather folder. I wanted to let her give me something. It was important to her.

She picked the movie. Not Annie, which was a kid movie, or Porky’s, which looked dirty. Poltergeist. I was the one jumping in my seat at the scary parts. She laughed and squeezed my hand. After the movie, we went by the store for ice cream. She paid for that, too.

At home, I made myself another drink and, even though I knew she wouldn’t eat it, I scooped up two bowls of ice cream. She carried hers out to the living room, cupped in both her hands like a prize. I turned on the TV to some old movie on PBS, and settled into my recliner. Wavy stood there, waiting for an invitation.

“Well, come on.” I patted my knee.

Like I figured, she wasn’t gonna eat her ice cream. She put it on the coffee table before she sat on my lap. Somewhere in the last five years, she musta been eating something, because she’d grown. There was a time when she fit all the way in my lap, but now her legs were long and her head reached my shoulder. The way she leaned into me was the same, though. She trusted me. When I pushed her dress strap up, she shivered, but then my hands were cold from the ice cream.

The movie was just background noise, while Wavy watched me eat my ice cream. Mint chocolate chip, that was what she picked.

After I set the empty bowl on the coffee table, she handed me my drink and scooted further up my legs. She leaned into me real nice, slipped her arm around my neck and put her cheek up against mine. That moment was a good birthday present by itself, just to sit with her and be happy together. During the movie, her hair had come out of the bobby pins, so I smoothed it out over her shoulder and snuck in a sniff.

When I got that first prickly heat in my crotch, I figured it was the booze. I shouldn’t’ve had another drink. It felt so good sitting there with Wavy, her hand stroking the back of my neck, but it didn’t seem right either. Even if it was just the bourbon, I had no business letting her sit on my lap when I was worked up.

“Let me up, sweetheart. I gotta step out,” I said.

She made this annoyed sound, but she got up. In the bathroom, I splashed some water on my face and took a piss. That put me back to rights.

As soon as I sat down, she came right back to my lap. With the problem taken care of, I wanted her there. She brushed her cheek against mine and then she gave me a cold little kiss on the corner of my mouth. Minty.

“You finally ate some of your ice cream?”

She nodded.

“Why won’t you eat it with me here?” I didn’t expect an answer, because I’d asked before and never got one.

“No looking,” she said.

“So, if I close my eyes, will you eat your ice cream before it melts?”

She thought hard about it, walking her fingers along the ribbing on my undershirt. When she got to my bare arm, she ran her finger over the scar from my wreck, staring at her ice cream the whole time.

“Cover them,” she said.

Once I put my hands over my eyes, she picked up her bowl. Like I was her favorite chair, she stretched back against me and rested her head in the triangle my elbow made. I didn’t cheat, wasn’t even tempted to look, but I knew she was eating. First came the squeak of the spoon scooping up ice cream. Then the sneaky sound of the spoon going into her mouth and coming out clean. After a couple bites, she put the bowl back on the coffee table.

“Are you done? Can I open my eyes?” I said.

“No.”

She shifted in my lap to straddle me, getting her knees into the gaps between my legs and the sides of the chair. Then she rested her head on my shoulder and said, “Lean back.”

I took my hands off my eyes, but didn’t open them. I eased the recliner back, and she settled into me with a sigh.

When she put her cheek against mine again, I turned my head, hoping for maybe one more kiss. She gave it to me, cold and soft. The next kiss was still cool, but getting warmer. Every one after that was warmer and softer, like ice cream melting, until she gave me a kiss that wasn’t just a peck on the lips. Her lips were warm but her tongue was still cold.