Joy and Tiers (10 page)

 “You hush up now, Tyler Joseph Colton!” Heather exclaims. “You are going to be so thankful that you had this meal. You’re not even going to know what you did before you met me. Your taste buds are going to weep with joy.”

“Well, that’s what you say. But, just so you understand the full extent of the challenge before you. I don’t just mildly dislike pasta. I really, really can’t stand it. It’s right up there with liver and onions for me.”

Heather just takes my hat off and taps me on the head as she asks “What is it you told me about the horses? Oh yeah … ‘I’ve got you covered.' That was it. So, that’s what I’m going to tell you right now. Ty, you just put your feet up, sit back and relax because I’ve got you covered. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight except having a great time. So, what are your music preferences? I guess they run toward Garth Brooks or Travis Tritt, am I right?”

“Well, I like Garth Brooks and Travis Tritt just fine. I am more of a Zac Brown Band and Keith Urban fan myself, but I’m not picky. Do you have all that music in your house?” I inquire, curious about her music taste.

“No silly, that’s what Pandora’s for. You can make your music taste be whatever suits you on any particular day,” she answers. “I’m very eclectic, so it works well for me.” Heather points to her clothes and continues, “My mood can change daily, so I often change my music to match my wardrobe.”

“What would you suggest to go with your wardrobe today?” I ask, studying her whimsical outfit. 

“Well, that’s a good question,” she responds thoughtfully putting her finger to her lips as she thinks. “Do you want a country flair or not?” She disappears into the kitchen.

“I’ll leave it up to you, you’re the one going with the theme and you know where you’re heading with dinner,” I answer. 

Heather yells out from inside the oven, “There are so many good choices. If you wanted country to go with my outfit, you could go with the classics, Loretta Lynn or Patsy Cline. Or if we were just going to stay true to the ambiance we could choose anyone in the rat pack. Frank Sinatra or Sammy Davis Junior. I particularly love Nat King Cole and Lena Horne.”

“Is there any reason we can’t put them all in the rotation?” I suggest.

“Nope, that’s a great idea,” Heather replies as she brings four plates to the table. There are two different appetizers. Each decorated exquisitely. They look like they came out of some fancy food magazine.

 “Heather, these look amazing!” I exclaim as I walk over to the table. I pull out her chair and wait for her to sit down. She looks a little surprised by the gesture, but gives me a grateful smile and sits down gracefully.

“Thank you so much. What a gentleman,” she murmurs.

“So, what am I eating?” I ask, cautiously examining the food in front of me with trepidation.

“Normally, I would tell you. However, given your food phobias, I think it's better you don’t know. I’ll tell you when we’re all finished. You’ll just have to go on blind faith. That was the deal, remember?” she states, but she looks a little nervous.

Damn! I thought she’d forgotten about that part. “Okay, Gidget I’m putting my life in your hands, or at least my taste buds.” I pick up the first item that looks like a piece of origami art there is an orangey-red sauce beside it, so I suspect she intends it to be a dipping sauce. So, I dunk it in and take a bite. It’s fried and crunchy on the outside, and the inside has some meat with an Asian flair. It’s phenomenally tasty. I could eat twenty or thirty of these.

I look up and I see her looking at me expectantly. I shove the bite in my mouth like a kid hoarding the last of the Halloween candy.

“Well?” she asks, raising her eyebrow in question. “Ready to give me a score?”

“A score?” I wheeze as I practically choke. “You’re kidding right?” 

“Nope.” Heather shakes her head sending her golden curls tumbling forward, distracting me. Geez, I’d love to run my fingers through it.

“Do you think I worked half a day for absolutely nothing? If I’m going to work this hard, I want some usable feedback on my recipes,” she explains as she hands me a card with five emoticons on it. They range from tears to elation. “Please circle the one that applies to you.”

Taking the card from her, I slump in my chair as relief courses through my body. I had expected the test to be much more difficult. This, I can do. I take the marker from her hand I laugh as I get a good look at it. “Sparkly bubblegum?” I ask with a snicker.

“Umm— I don’t suppose you’d buy the line that it’s Mindy’s?” Heather stammers as she blushes.

I chuckle as I respond, “Well, I might have until you blushed as pink as the pen, but that’s a dead giveaway.”

“In my defense, the regular pens stink. You can’t judge a girl for wanting to smell good,” she pleads with the wink. “I didn’t want to smell like a tar pit in the middle of a highway resurfacing project.”

“Oh, I’m not arguing with you there. I think it’s a beautiful pen, and it suits you perfectly. Most people would use an ordinary pen. I think it’s great that you choose to use an extraordinary pen for mundane things just because it makes you happy.”

Heather looks confused by the conversation as if she can’t decide whether I mean it as a compliment or a slight against her character. Finally, she says, “Thank you, I think.”

“Yes, Gidget, I very much meant it as a compliment. I admire your free-spirit a great deal. More people should be like you,” I respond as I circle the happiest emoticon on the card. “Okay, I’m ready to try the next one. If it’s anything like the first one, I’m totally down with the rest of the experiment.”

Heather pushes the next plate in front of me. This one has four small golden brown squares on it. It looks like there might be some grated Parmesan cheese on top. There’s a little ramekin of red sauce. It smells like marinara sauce to me. This is a positive development because I love meatball subs. I cautiously pick one up and bite into it. Well, what a surprise! On the inside is some vegetable mixture of spinach and something else green— maybe artichokes with Parmesan and mozzarella cheese. She must be saving the pasta until the later dishes. These are also amazingly delicious. It doesn’t take me long to polish off all four.

When Heather sees the expression on my face, she just pushes her plate over to me and says with a grin, “You’re welcome to finish off mine too if you want.”

I look at her with surprise as I reply, “Seriously? Are you sure? These are great!”

“I had to have some while I was cooking, so I’m not as hungry as you are,” Heather admits.

“Okay, if you don’t mind, then I don’t mind if I do,” I reply as I pop one into my mouth.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Heather states. “I made you an insane amount of food. I wanted you to try a wide variety of things. So, I hope you brought your appetite.”

“Well, my mama still refers to me as a growing boy and claims I still have a hollow leg every time I go back to see her. As a matter of fact, I skipped lunch today because we were out on a call. To say I’m hungry is an understatement. So, bring it on,” I say with an exaggerated gesture.

“Okay, give me about twenty minutes and I’ll be out with your first course,” Heather instructs. “Make yourself comfortable. You can turn on my PlayStation if you want. I’ve got some games. There’s everything in there from Madden Football to Sims 3.”

“Sweet! Is this your brother’s?” I ask as I choose the Madden football game and settle into the recliner.

“Get real. My brother play video games? Nope, those are mine.” Heather responds with a wink. “On another day, I’ll beat your pants off. Unfortunately, I’m kind of busy today.”

Looking at her with a whole new level of awe and respect, I salute her as I reply, “I don’t know about that, Gidget. I’ve had a whole lot of practice playing video games.”

She looks back over her shoulder at me as she walks away, “Who’s to say, I haven’t, Cowboy?”

Everything I learn about her is a great new surprise that’s more interesting than the last. I almost can’t wait to see what’s next.

“I can’t wait for the matchup,” I challenge. “Should we have a wager on that too?”

I hear Heather laugh from the kitchen as she responds, “I don’t know if you can afford to bury yourself in a hole any more than you already have. You’re working up a powerful debt with me. Pretty soon, you’re going to be practically my love slave.”

“All the more reason for me to bet.” I respond.

Heather snickers from the other room. “Yeah right, like I’ve got men tripping all over themselves to be my love slaves. Not on this or any other planet.”

“Well, it’s not my fault those other guys aren’t paying attention to what’s right in front of them,” I remark. It’s too bad she’s in the other room and can’t see that I’m dead serious. 

Heather makes a tsking noise and says, “Ty, you don’t have to patronize me. I am well aware I don’t look like a fashion model and most days I’m totally okay with it. On the other hand, I also know I’m not going to end up like Ken and Barbie either. I’ve built a life without all that stuff. Although, I’ll admit having Kiera and Jeff around with their perfect little family has made it a little more difficult because all the things I’m going to miss are paraded in front of my face. It makes them a little harder to ignore.”

“Gidget, if you knew the things going through my mind when I think of you, you would go running. I don’t want some skinny, twig of a girl who spends far too much time baking herself under a lamp and not enough time eating and being outside. If I did, I could collect those girls any day of the week because they’re a dime a dozen. On the other hand, a girl like you — well, let’s just say you’re a rare commodity. Do you really think Jeff and Kiera really couldn’t figure out how to set up their barbecue, their new computer network or the kiddie pool for Mindy?”

“I don’t know. Come to think of it, it
is
unlike Kiera to ask for help with that kind of stuff,” Heather mutters under her breath.

“I’ve been hanging out with them so much because I’ve been looking for opportunities to be around you. It’s just that simple. I can’t believe you didn’t notice.” 

It grew strangely quiet for a moment, and all I could hear was the sound of a spoon hitting the side of the pot as she stirs something in the kitchen. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking regarding my bizarre ramblings. “To be honest, I was beginning to wonder if you have stalker-ish tendencies because you seem to be under my feet everywhere I turn.”

A large guffaw of laughter escapes me as I hear her comment because it’s not far from the truth. “I can see how it might look that way. I just like being around you and I wasn’t sure how receptive you would be to the whole dating scene after we got off to such a rough start. Speaking of that, are you interested in dating me?” I ask, immediately kicking myself for my impulsiveness.

“Holy cow, Cowboy! Way to put a girl on the spot. I think maybe we should wait and see how dinner goes first before making any huge decisions.”

“Okay, I’m good with that,” I answer, suddenly feeling even more pressure over my aversion to pasta. As I load the video game, I take note of her high score, and I realize I was a little too hasty in my assessment of my ability to wipe the floor with her. Now, I’m even more curious about where she developed her video game prowess.

After a few minutes, Heather emerges from the kitchen. Her artfully styled hair is a little worse for the wear as it’s now damp and curling at the temples. Her cheeks are rosy red, but her eyes are sparkling. She clearly enjoys this. As she sets a dish down in front of me, I see an oval-shaped ramekin full of what looks like rice. The smells coming from this dish are phenomenal. I love the smell of garlic and onions. It looks like there are also some mushrooms in this dish. I’m pretty ambivalent about mushrooms. I don’t love them, but I don’t hate them either. It looks like she broiled some cheese on the top. Melted cheese is almost always good. 

The anticipation is killing me. It looks like this dish is going to be as amazing as the last two. She holds out a bite for me to try. She’s so cute as she blows on it to make sure I don’t burn my mouth. My stomach growls as I lean forward to take a bite. Heather giggles as she hears the obnoxiously rude noise.

“I’m so sorry! How rude of me.” I murmur as I swallow the heavenly bite. I swear, my eyes practically roll in the back of my head from the amount of positive endorphins in my body. I can’t believe I ever thought I didn’t like this kind of food. If this is what it tastes like to eat crow, I’ll eat it every single day of the week.

Heather laughs at the expression on my face. “Like that, did you? Are you ready for the next one or do you want to wait?” she asks with a wide grin.

I dramatically sigh as I announce, “No, I don’t want to wait a second longer than necessary to try any more food. I hereby pronounce you a world-class chef.”

Heather curtsies as she replies in her best Elvis impersonation, “Why thank you, thank you very much. I’ll be right back with your next dish.”

This time when she returns, she is carrying a small casserole dish. 

This is just what I feared would happen. Casseroles are the bane of my existence. I have to fight back my gag reflex. It’s nothing Heather has done. In fact, the dish she brought out looks delicious. I try to focus on the fact that it smells phenomenal. It has a rich tomato sauce and lots of herbs and spices. I can see lots of melted cheese and smell garlic and onions. I’m trying very hard to push back against decades of ingrained habit.

A look of concern crosses Heather’s face as she studies my reaction. “Would you like me to take it away?” She asks softly. “This was only meant to be a silly bet, not a form of torture. If it’s that difficult, I’ll just stop it all now.” She takes a set of hot pads and picks up the offending dish and starts to carry it back to the kitchen.

I grasp her arm to stop her. “Please Gidget, stop. I need to try to do this. It’s just a stupid thing I need to overcome. Let me try it. I’m sure it’s delicious,” I plead.

Heather looks dubious but nods as she murmurs, “Okay if you’re sure. But, if you don’t like it, you don’t need to eat it. You won’t hurt my feelings, I swear.”