Page 18 of Challenged By You
She reaches up a gnarled hand and pats me on the arm. “Such a good boy. Now, him?” She points her shaking finger at Julian, who’s wearing a broad smile. “He’s trouble.”
“Always has been, ma’am.” The woman chuckles. I ask politely, “Is there somewhere you need to go? Anything you need assistance with?”
Julian goes ramrod straight behind me at my offer. The woman cackles. “I’m off to play bingo right over there.” She points with her cane, almost taking out a passerby, who curses her in three different languages.
I wince even as the woman blithely continues. “But you boys go enjoy your pizza.” Without another word, she hobbles down to the corner and waits for the light to turn before heading across the street.
Julian is silent as we make our way inside. “It’s a woman,” he declares suddenly.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What’s she like?” We walk up to the counter to order when I notice it’s cash only. I frown, not because I don’t have the money, but because I worry about the owner’s safety. Much like I worried about Trina’s, which is why I rode the damn subway home with her the other night from Grand Central.
“Do you know what you want to eat?” I ask him impatiently.
“Food,” he tells me decisively before switching topics again. “So tell me, when did you meet her?”
Knowing I’ll stand here starving to death under the smell of oregano if I don’t throw him a bone, I answer, “About a week ago. Now, can we order?”
“Sure.” Turning his attention to the attendant, Julian orders, “I’ll take a slice of meatball and a cheese calzone. Plus a drink.”
“Are you eating for two?” I ask him with a laugh. “Two slices, cheese and sausage. Plus a drink.” I reach for my wallet.
“That will be twenty-two dollars.” I pull out a twenty and a five, wait for my change, and dump the rest in the tip jar. “Thank you. Your order will be right up.”
Julian and I make our way over to a two-seater near the window. “So were you serious, or were you just trying to get me to shut up?”
“If I tell you the truth, can I eat in peace?” Lowering my voice, I whisper, “I’m actually reviewing this place for the column.”
Eyes that are the exact same shape and color of my own widen in surprise. “Why didn’t you say something?” he hisses.
Thoughtfully, I glance around at the impeccably clean restaurant that’s almost filled to capacity at eleven in the morning on a weekday. “Probably because we’ll draw more attention if we’re not acting like ourselves?”
“Hmm, true. So, the part about the woman…”
Knowing there’s no way I won’t tell him about my interactions with Trina, I give in. “Is also true. In fact, it’s because of her we’re even here.”
I’m grateful Julian hadn’t quite managed to lift his drink to his mouth otherwise I suspect for the second time this week I’d be wearing someone else’s consumables. “Shut the hell up.”
“That’s fine by me since the food’s here anyway.” I offer a polite smile to the server as they dispense our meal. In my mind, I’m not doing the normal critique I would. I certainly don’t expect the waitstaff to know what meal belongs to what diner. After they leave, I analyze my meal without taking a single bite. “Have to be fair because it’s quick service,” I think out loud. “I have to detract for the plastic silverware though.”
“Oh, God. Here we go,” Julian groans. “Jonas, look around you. Does this place scream real silverware?”
I frown, recognizing my brother’s truth. “But how are you going to be able to eat… Oh, God.” I start laughing as Julian picks up one full half of his calzone and takes a mammoth bite.
“Fwuqing fantastic,” he manages in between chews of gooey cheese that likely is scalding the inside of his mouth. But Julian doesn’t give a damn about minor details like that when his stomach is involved.
“Give me a bite,” I demand.
“Eat your pizza first. I’ll save you some,” he promises as he chomps down again.
I lift the fire-baked slice in my hands. I love the sound of the crackle the bread makes when I fold it in half. “God, this is the sound pizza should make.”
“Right? It shouldn’t bend like a rubber band.” Julian has already hoovered through half a calzone and is working on his slice of meatball.
I have to remind myself this is a job and to not just shove my face into my slice the way my brother has. Lifting the slice slowly to my lips, I inhale the aroma of spices wafting through the air. “The smell alone might make this rate above four stars.” My eyes drift shut as I recognize the traditional scents of oregano, thyme, garlic, and basil.
My lips part to take that first precious bite just as Julian’s voice intrudes on my moment. “Jesus, Jonas, if you don’t take a damn bite, I’m not going to keep my promise.” I find him lifting the second half of his calzone in warning.
