Jenny and I blew into Corleone’s Pizzeria just ahead of the approaching storm. I immediately felt its coziness envelop me. “Brick ovens make all the difference in texture and taste,” I informed Jenny, my words tumbling over each other as I inhaled the scents of yeast and toasted cheese.
A small town girl, I’ve only been in the big city for a few months. Jenny’s a co-worker who heard me bragging about finding a fabulous restaurant and decided to tag along. Since stumbling across the pizzeria, I’d visited the place nearly every week. Watching the family members who owned Corleone’s and listening to their banter and laughter made me feel somehow less lonely.
I steered Jenny to a small red table whose round top resembled a piece of pepperoni. “Here’s the order slip. They’ll pick it up after you check off what you want. FYI, when it’s ready, they announce your choice to the room, usually with teasing comments.”
“Then I’ll order something non-fattening.” Jenny smoothed her hair and glanced around the intimate interior. “I see there’s mostly families in here tonight, RaeLynn. This doesn’t look like such a great place to meet guys.”
It’s not a ‘meet’ market, it’s more of a ‘meat’ market—remember, I only claimed that the pizza’s great.” I avoided looking for Nicky behind the counter. He worked Friday evenings and somehow on Fridays I usually found myself hungry for pizza. And a slice of Nicky.
The door blew open and the man himself burst in, threading his way between the tables.
In a moment, Jenny would spot him—she’s got a laser scope that locks on any cute guy in the vicinity, which meant I was crazy for bringing her along.
I snatched up a slip and waved it under her nose. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could order dates to specifications?” In the “special order” section, I printed the first item on my list of wants and wishes. “Dazzling smile—one that makes me weak in the knees.”
“You go with the guy with a good dental plan,” Jenny muttered. “I’d rather have one whose killer body does the talking for him.”
But Nicky was more than just eye candy. I’d watched him mop floors, hand toss pizza dough like a pro and listen to complaints without ever losing his sparkle. By nibbling on my pizza slices to prolong each visit and eavesdropping on the chatter behind the counter, I’d learned Nicky took college courses several evenings a week, chasing his dream of becoming an accountant.
I looked up in time to see him bend down to retrieve a doll and hand it back to a tot who gazed up at him, wide-eyed. He said something that made her giggle. I giggled too, reminded of my next requirement and started to write again. “Good with kids—I want a big family.”
I thought we were talking about a date, not a commitment.” Jenny scowled at the choices on the order blank. “No pineapple. They don’t offer many low fat options.”
“Not low fat, but life long,” I whispered. “Like the type of marriage my parents experienced.”
“Okay, I’m out of here.” Jenny stood up and shook back her hair with an impatient gesture. “If I decide to eat three kinds of cheese and bacon on my pizza, I’m gonna do it some place where they don’t announce my choices to the world—”
When she sank back down, her mouth slightly open, I realized she must have caught sight of Nicky at the microphone.
I scribbled down my final item. “Eyes a rich espresso brown.”
The man’s husky baritone cut through the chatter. “Who’s got #31? Hint: it’s a pie Popeye would love!”
At a corner table, a couple waved to the room at large. “Spinach pizza. I yam what I yam!” the guy hollered amidst a fresh burst of laughter.
I snatched up another slip and with quick slashes checked the boxes for my usual order. Nicky’s sister appeared at our table just as the door opened again, the wind swirling our slips and a napkin to the floor. I dove for the orders and handed them over to Mara, crumpling my wish list in my other hand.
Nicky continued to entertain the patrons with his good natured comments while I pretended not to watch and clutched my “order”. If only I had the guts to talk to him. If only Nicky would notice me watching him ...
Then Mara, a smile teasing her lips, handed the next slip to her brother, who announced, “#38’s ready—and, wow! Listen up, folks, someone’s ordered a great smile, a person equally good with kids and numbers, and they’re looking for a lifetime commitment and dark brown eyes. And they want it ‘to go’. Sounds like we’ve got a marriage proposal here tonight, folks!”
Everyone applauded, along whistles and shouts. Mara smiled at me while I sat as stiff as a wooden artifact in a museum, thoughts flashing like traffic signals in my brain. She must have recognized my writing, remembered me handing the slip to her. No. Not possible. I must be asleep; this had turned into a nightmare.
Nicky flashed that grin at the now silent crowd, everyone craning their necks to see who was about to go down on bended knee.
Jenny, traitorous Jenny, gestured at me. “Over here, over here!”
I hated her.
Nick ignored her piping voice. “Now speak up, who’s the romantic fellow—”
He broke off when his sister grabbed his sleeve, gestured in my direction and whispered in his ear. Nicky stared at the order again before his shocked gaze met mine. I gasped, unfolding the wadded paper in my fist. Oh, no! I was holding my actual pizza order, not my wish list.
Jenny burst out laughing. Covering my face with my fingers, I wanted to sink under the table and die, in no particular order.
After an eternity, someone gently moved my hands; I stared into espresso dark eyes. The restaurant noise faded as the world shrunk to just Nicky and me.
“Our advertising promises that we’ll serve exactly what the customer orders. Shall we discuss your special specifications?”
A shiver ran through my body as he brushed a strand of hair back from my face and plucked my regular order from my nerveless fingers, replacing it with my wishes and wants.
I gulped and stuttered, frozen in fear. Then Nicky smiled the smile I adored, the one that makes me weak in the knees.
I wanted to tell him how much I’d longed to talk to him, how his smiles had warmed my lonely heart. Then from somewhere I got the courage to pick up the shaker of parmesan flakes and sprinkle it on his dark curls.
“If you recall, my usual order calls for extra cheese.” He chuckled and I couldn’t stop an answering smile from stretching my lips. “Let’s go for coffee at the diner across the street,” I whispered. “Tonight, for a change, I asked for my order to go.”
THE END