stopping.
Hannah
screamed. “Ahhhh! Jason! Be careful!”
“Whoa! That was
GREAT!”
“What—the girls
or the wheelie?”
“Yeee-hawwww! The wheelie, of course!”
“You know
you’re crazy, don’t you?” She tried to catch her breath, laughing in the
process.
“Is there any
other way to be?”
“But I have to
admit you were awesome with those kids. They adore you!”
“Yeah. Just
call me kiddy bait. Me and Barney the dinosaur, we’re right up there together
at the top of the list.”
“I’m just glad
you’re not fat and purple.” She rubbed her mittens together, squinting to see
out the window. “You sure you won’t get mobbed at this restaurant?”
“Not a chance.
Patty takes care of me. What are you hungry for? You like calzones?”
“Cheese only?”
“Is there any
other way?”
An hour later, calzone
crumbs dotted their plates, their glasses empty after two refills. Hannah had
to agree, the food was outstanding. And his personally-proclaimed private booth
in the back kept them secluded just as he’d said. They’d had no interruptions
except for Patty’s undivided attention. Jason wiped his mouth and sat back in
the booth. “I’m stuffed,” he moaned, rubbing his stomach. “I’ll have to run ten
miles to get this off my gut.”
“Pssst! Max! Come
back here!” A throaty whisper beckoned him from the kitchen.
“Max?” Hannah
mouthed.
He grinned.
“That’s Patty’s nickname for me. McKenzie. Max. Somehow she decided Max would
be her cover for me and it just stuck. C’mon.” He took her by the hand, leading
her through the swinging doors into the hot kitchen. The strong scent of
Italian spices filled the cramped room.
Patty hugged him
again, patting him on the back like a child. “I just love this guy! He’s like
one of my own. I could just eat him up!” She laughed, pinching both his cheeks.
“I-wuv-woo-hoo, Paee.”
Hannah laughed at
his pitiful attempt to talk.
“Sing for me!” Patty
wiped her hands on her apron as she stepped into her tiny office. “Pull up the
soap, Max.”
Jason grunted as
he tugged a twenty-gallon drum of institutional detergent to the center of the
room. Hannah found a pink vinyl chair in a corner and sat down. Patty emerged
from her tiny office with a beat-up guitar case, handing it to Jason. “Max here
gave me this years ago. It was his first guitar. I was hoping my Tony would
learn to play, but all he plays is video games. Such a waste! So I keep it here
for Max whenever he stops by. Go on, play me something sweet.” She hopped up to
sit on the counter, her legs swinging back and forth.
“Patty makes me
work for my food when I come here. Won’t take my money but always makes me
sing. How about some U2? You up for a little Bono tune ? ” He started
playing one of the group’s classic tunes.
“No, no, no!”
Patty groaned. “If I wanted Bono, I’d call Bono. I want Max.”
Jason threw his
head back laughing. “Oh, okay. U2, no Bono, huh? Then how about a little Rascal
Flatts? I do a mean version of Bless the Broken Road . He sang
the famous lyrics matching lead singer Gary Levox’s exact tone and style.
“Stop! Honestly,
Max—I’ll never feed you again. I mean it! Now sing to me. Your songs.
Don’t make me hurt you.” Patty forced a playful scowl.
His fingers
strummed the guitar. He stopped to tune a couple of strings, then strummed
again. The chords of the familiar song drifted around them making Hannah smile.
One of her favorite Blue love songs . . .
There simply
are no words
To tell you how
I feel,
There simply
isn’t time
To share what’s
in my heart . . .
Patty moved to the
music, at times closing her eyes and mouthing the words along with her Max.
A hundred songs
of love,
Or a thousand
years together
Could never be
enough.
So it all comes
down to this,
A quiet, simple
kiss
A quiet, simple
kiss.
She watched his
fingers flying along the neck of the old guitar, a more classical version than
the
Hannah
screamed. “Ahhhh! Jason! Be careful!”
“Whoa! That was
GREAT!”
“What—the girls
or the wheelie?”
“Yeee-hawwww! The wheelie, of course!”
“You know
you’re crazy, don’t you?” She tried to catch her breath, laughing in the
process.
“Is there any
other way to be?”
“But I have to
admit you were awesome with those kids. They adore you!”
“Yeah. Just
call me kiddy bait. Me and Barney the dinosaur, we’re right up there together
at the top of the list.”
“I’m just glad
you’re not fat and purple.” She rubbed her mittens together, squinting to see
out the window. “You sure you won’t get mobbed at this restaurant?”
“Not a chance.
Patty takes care of me. What are you hungry for? You like calzones?”
“Cheese only?”
“Is there any
other way?”
An hour later, calzone
crumbs dotted their plates, their glasses empty after two refills. Hannah had
to agree, the food was outstanding. And his personally-proclaimed private booth
in the back kept them secluded just as he’d said. They’d had no interruptions
except for Patty’s undivided attention. Jason wiped his mouth and sat back in
the booth. “I’m stuffed,” he moaned, rubbing his stomach. “I’ll have to run ten
miles to get this off my gut.”
“Pssst! Max! Come
back here!” A throaty whisper beckoned him from the kitchen.
“Max?” Hannah
mouthed.
He grinned.
“That’s Patty’s nickname for me. McKenzie. Max. Somehow she decided Max would
be her cover for me and it just stuck. C’mon.” He took her by the hand, leading
her through the swinging doors into the hot kitchen. The strong scent of
Italian spices filled the cramped room.
Patty hugged him
again, patting him on the back like a child. “I just love this guy! He’s like
one of my own. I could just eat him up!” She laughed, pinching both his cheeks.
“I-wuv-woo-hoo, Paee.”
Hannah laughed at
his pitiful attempt to talk.
“Sing for me!” Patty
wiped her hands on her apron as she stepped into her tiny office. “Pull up the
soap, Max.”
Jason grunted as
he tugged a twenty-gallon drum of institutional detergent to the center of the
room. Hannah found a pink vinyl chair in a corner and sat down. Patty emerged
from her tiny office with a beat-up guitar case, handing it to Jason. “Max here
gave me this years ago. It was his first guitar. I was hoping my Tony would
learn to play, but all he plays is video games. Such a waste! So I keep it here
for Max whenever he stops by. Go on, play me something sweet.” She hopped up to
sit on the counter, her legs swinging back and forth.
“Patty makes me
work for my food when I come here. Won’t take my money but always makes me
sing. How about some U2? You up for a little Bono tune ? ” He started
playing one of the group’s classic tunes.
“No, no, no!”
Patty groaned. “If I wanted Bono, I’d call Bono. I want Max.”
Jason threw his
head back laughing. “Oh, okay. U2, no Bono, huh? Then how about a little Rascal
Flatts? I do a mean version of Bless the Broken Road . He sang
the famous lyrics matching lead singer Gary Levox’s exact tone and style.
“Stop! Honestly,
Max—I’ll never feed you again. I mean it! Now sing to me. Your songs.
Don’t make me hurt you.” Patty forced a playful scowl.
His fingers
strummed the guitar. He stopped to tune a couple of strings, then strummed
again. The chords of the familiar song drifted around them making Hannah smile.
One of her favorite Blue love songs . . .
There simply
are no words
To tell you how
I feel,
There simply
isn’t time
To share what’s
in my heart . . .
Patty moved to the
music, at times closing her eyes and mouthing the words along with her Max.
A hundred songs
of love,
Or a thousand
years together
Could never be
enough.
So it all comes
down to this,
A quiet, simple
kiss
A quiet, simple
kiss.
She watched his
fingers flying along the neck of the old guitar, a more classical version than
the
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