“Think of it as a belated, well-deserved birthday present.” Natty shot me a quick wink, shoving the bills toward me. “Besides, the company was nice—made my shift go by faster.”
I glanced down at my watch and saw it was getting close to their closing time. “Crap, I’ve been here a while.”
“I get off in about an hour and change. Want some more company for the night? You still seem down.”
“I’d like that.” Going home to an empty apartment sounded awful. I scribbled my address and number onto a clean bar napkin and handed it to the beautiful bartender.
“See you in a bit.”
* * *
Slumping onto my couch,I realized how drunk I had actually gotten throughout the better part of the afternoon and evening.
Nothing a pizza won’t cure.
Natty was due to arrive at my place in about an hour, and I figured food after a long shift would be a nice gesture for how kind she had been to me.
I hated that I had been reduced to using a cane, but the physical therapist was hopeful that my knee would eventually heal enough for me to no longer need it. The limp, however, would probably never go away, just one more reminder of all that had been lost.
Get a damn grip.
It was ridiculous how whiney I had become. Thepoor meattitude I had adopted was starting to get old, even to myself. I just didn’t know how to shake it.
After the pizza arrived, I chugged a few large glasses of water and popped a few ibuprofen. The doctors had given me stronger medicine, but I hated taking them unless the pain was unmanageable. I was a lightweight when it came to pharmaceuticals, and I didn’t want to be a loopy mess when my visitor arrived.
A light knock sounded on my front door.
“Come in,” I called from the couch. It took me a few seconds longer than usual to get up. Gripping my cane, I finally hoisted myself to my feet as Natty started to walk into the front room.
“Nice digs,” she remarked sincerely as I helped her take off her coat.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” I responded. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Wine?”
Natty followed me into the kitchen as I showed her the many bottles of reds and whites I kept stocked in my wine cooler.
“What are you, some kind of sommelier or something?” Natty glanced over the bottles of expensive nectar.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Actually, I don’t like the stuff at all, but my mother always said you have to be prepared to be a good host and having good wine is the first step.”
“Classy lady.” Natty took out a Mt. Difficulty Roaring Meg Pinot Noir. “This will do.”
“Hungry?” I questioned as I poured a hearty amount into a stemless glass.
“Starved.”
“There’s a peperoni pizza in the oven.”
Natty took my hand, kissing my cheek quickly. “You really are a good host.”
I pulled down a plate, handing it to her. “Just trying to be a gentleman.”
“I think you’re succeeding.”
After watching a few reruns ofThe Wonder Yearswith Natty’s head resting on my shoulder, she grabbed the remote and paused the show.
Turning to me, she cocked her head to the side. “So are you going to kiss me or what?”