Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall) by Angelisa Denise Stone

apologizing profusely at my ineptness. Laughing, he takes my face in his hands, pulls me toward him, and kisses the tip of my nose. “You are irrefutably the most adorable woman in the world.” He stands up and pulls me up with him.
    “So then, will you help me decide which pizza joint we order from?” I ask.
    “Pizza? No way! You promised me a home-cooked meal; we’re home cooking tonight, Pebbles.” Dre says making a beeline for my kitchen.
    “Oh Dre, thank God. I didn’t know what we were going to do. So, you can cook?” I ask.
    “Fuck no. Do I look like I can cook?” he questions, looking shocked. “I guess we’re just gonna have to figure it out together.”
     

     
    Dre and I ate a culinary feast of shrimp-flavored Ramen Noodles and pretzels. He even decided to “kick it up a notch” and put slices of hot dogs in our noodles. Although it looked like the most disgusting meal ever created, it wasn’t too bad. There wasn’t a bite left of anything on either one of our plates, so we can therefore call it a success. Or so he claims.
    “Alright woman, get this place cleaned up, while I watch Sportscenter ,” Dre says, flopping down onto my couch.
    “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, Your Highness, just as soon as I massage your feet and finish your sponge bath,” I reply, throwing a dishtowel at him.
    “Just the words ‘sponge’ and ‘bath’ coming out of your sexy little lips is enough to send me over the edge,” Dre whines, shaking his head at me as he removes the towel from his head. Standing up, he takes my plate from the coffee table and says, “You grab the glasses.”
    “Don’t you want more wine?” I ask.
    “Nah, I don’t really like wine,” Dre admits. “I’d just rather have soda.”
    “Then why’d you bring it?” I ask, rinsing out the glasses.”
    “My buddy, Rory, sent it over with me. Said it was a surefire way to get your panties to drop,” he boldly admits. I look at him, shocked that he would admit that and not care about offending me. We’ve definitely hit a new place of comfort with one another. And in such short time.
    I pull out the waistband of my jammies and look down. “Nope, panties are still there … haven’t dropped yet,” I joke, grinning at him. Dre laughs and smacks my butt. It’s fun being with him, playful and sexy at the same time.
    Dre and I load the dishwasher talking about my job and the few odds and ends that he does around town. “So that’s it?” I ask. “You just do work for people here and there, and it’s enough for you?” I know I’m prying, but he seems too smart to waste his time fixing people’s chairs and swinging doors.
    “I guess I haven’t decided what I want to be when I grow up,” Dre says, smirking at me, like a schoolboy.
    “Well then, tell me about your family? About where you’re from? Tell me anything … ya know … that I can make fun of you about.” I say, hoping to erase the scowl forming on his brow.
    “Well, are you sure? ‘People only ask questions when they’re ready to hear the answers.’ At least, that’s what I always say.” Dre grins.
    “Oh for God’s sake. I’ve created a monster … Irving would be so proud that you’re quoting him … good quote by the way. But seriously, dish some goods,” I joke. “Tell me something good.”
    “Not much to tell. I didn’t have much of a childhood. I turned eighteen, packed up, moved out, and haven’t talked to anyone in quite a while,” he admits, averting my gaze. “I grew up further north … on the east coast.”
    Apparently, tonight was not the night that Dre Donley was going to open up and share his innermost secrets with me. I can catch on pretty easily. I know better than to try to pry things out of a man, who’s nowhere near ready to part with certain secrets. I can wait; I’ll wait until he’s ready.
    Patience is a virtue that I was given an abundance of. Most people, men especially, are not like me. Men are private and impatient.