words!”
Girl, you have no clue. “Please. Stop,” I said.
“Daddy, Nola never stumbles over her words,” Marley teased. “She’s never nervous. Silas had her like putty. I saw it!”
I wanted to kick Marley from under the table when her father laughed. “Actually, Marley, I don’t know what you saw, because I’m not at all interested in Silas.”
“Why not?” Pastor Robinson asked, looking directly at me and shooting a thrust of tingles throughout my entire body. It was the first time that I noticed how wizened the corner of his eyes were. The only evidence, besides the few specks of salt in his pepper colored goatee, that he was about twenty years my senior.
“I don’t think he could handle a woman like me,” I replied.
The pastor’s eyes widened before he directed his attention to his plate. I smirked as I imagined the thoughts that probably flew into his head.
“Nola is bold. She’s opinionated and outspoken,” Marley said with her mouth full. “That’s why I look up to her. She’s the complete opposite of me.”
I nodded at my spokesperson.
“Well,” the pastor began as I watched, in what seemed like slow motion, while he licked a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “A lot of men need a bold woman. Don’t count him out. He’s a cool dude.”
I smiled coyly, “Thanks, Pastor.”
“You’re in my house. You can call me Ronnie.”
“Ronnie…” I practiced rolling it off of my tongue. “Nice name.”
“He makes everyone call him that, even Greg.” Marley was in between bites. It was then that I noticed she looked nothing like her father, especially the way her nose flared while she chewed. I redirected my attention to Ronnie.
“I love the French toast. You have to give me the recipe.”
“Oh, do you cook?” Ronnie asked.
“Occasionally,” I answered with a flirtatious smile.
“That’s a ‘no.’ There are no occasional cooks. When you cook, you always cook,” he said confidently.
I laughed, “Maybe you never met an occasional cook. Allow me to introduce myself.”
Marley chimed in, “Daddy, Nola does make a good box cake.”
Ronnie belted out a laugh that echoed in the dining room. His smile was adorable and youthful.
“Don’t listen to Marley. I mean , I do bake a mean box cake, but I can get down on the stove as well. I’ll prove it to you some day.”
Ronnie rubbed his shaven yet scruffy beard. “Hmm… I’ll take you up on that.”
“Be careful, Nola” Marley added. “If you’re any good, he’ll make you work in his restaurant.”
“You have a restaurant?” I was intrigued.
“Continue to speak it into the atmosphere and I will by next year.”
I was impressed. “Wow. So cooking really is your passion.”
“What is yours?” he asked in return.
“Huh?” I heard him the first time. Just, his question was unexpected. He looked into my eyes and repeated the question.
“I asked, ‘what is your passion?’”
This time I held his gaze, pausing the connection that I felt between us. I was soaking in the haze that filled the place, veiling Marley’s presence.
“Good question, Ronnie.
Girl, you have no clue. “Please. Stop,” I said.
“Daddy, Nola never stumbles over her words,” Marley teased. “She’s never nervous. Silas had her like putty. I saw it!”
I wanted to kick Marley from under the table when her father laughed. “Actually, Marley, I don’t know what you saw, because I’m not at all interested in Silas.”
“Why not?” Pastor Robinson asked, looking directly at me and shooting a thrust of tingles throughout my entire body. It was the first time that I noticed how wizened the corner of his eyes were. The only evidence, besides the few specks of salt in his pepper colored goatee, that he was about twenty years my senior.
“I don’t think he could handle a woman like me,” I replied.
The pastor’s eyes widened before he directed his attention to his plate. I smirked as I imagined the thoughts that probably flew into his head.
“Nola is bold. She’s opinionated and outspoken,” Marley said with her mouth full. “That’s why I look up to her. She’s the complete opposite of me.”
I nodded at my spokesperson.
“Well,” the pastor began as I watched, in what seemed like slow motion, while he licked a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “A lot of men need a bold woman. Don’t count him out. He’s a cool dude.”
I smiled coyly, “Thanks, Pastor.”
“You’re in my house. You can call me Ronnie.”
“Ronnie…” I practiced rolling it off of my tongue. “Nice name.”
“He makes everyone call him that, even Greg.” Marley was in between bites. It was then that I noticed she looked nothing like her father, especially the way her nose flared while she chewed. I redirected my attention to Ronnie.
“I love the French toast. You have to give me the recipe.”
“Oh, do you cook?” Ronnie asked.
“Occasionally,” I answered with a flirtatious smile.
“That’s a ‘no.’ There are no occasional cooks. When you cook, you always cook,” he said confidently.
I laughed, “Maybe you never met an occasional cook. Allow me to introduce myself.”
Marley chimed in, “Daddy, Nola does make a good box cake.”
Ronnie belted out a laugh that echoed in the dining room. His smile was adorable and youthful.
“Don’t listen to Marley. I mean , I do bake a mean box cake, but I can get down on the stove as well. I’ll prove it to you some day.”
Ronnie rubbed his shaven yet scruffy beard. “Hmm… I’ll take you up on that.”
“Be careful, Nola” Marley added. “If you’re any good, he’ll make you work in his restaurant.”
“You have a restaurant?” I was intrigued.
“Continue to speak it into the atmosphere and I will by next year.”
I was impressed. “Wow. So cooking really is your passion.”
“What is yours?” he asked in return.
“Huh?” I heard him the first time. Just, his question was unexpected. He looked into my eyes and repeated the question.
“I asked, ‘what is your passion?’”
This time I held his gaze, pausing the connection that I felt between us. I was soaking in the haze that filled the place, veiling Marley’s presence.
“Good question, Ronnie.
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