FicWad

Sid and Jim are silently eating cereal while watching the morning news. Jim has to get ready to go to work after eating breakfast, and Sid’s just eating because he was hungry. You can’t sleep with a full stomach, and hunger can wake you up. A weathergirl on the television puts up her fake smile as she says, “An Arctic front came down the Midwest overnight, so currently it’s twenty-five degrees, but later in the day it’ll be only thirty-six here in Des Moines. There may be a small chance of some snowflakes throughout the day, so bundle up Des Moines. You’ll need it!”

Jim and Sid both sigh at this. Suddenly Jim really wants to return to sunny, not-snowy Jacksonville again. Seeing snow is almost foreign to the guy, having been away from here in so long. He’s forgotten what it’s like to walk in it. The news anchor on the television smiles, “Thank you, Honey Mallory.” The anchorman then eyes suggestively at her. “You are looking quite gorgeous today.” The weathergirl can only blink suspiciously at him before he gives his report. A caption with a familiar face is shown beside him. “Well, we got a breaking news from Florida! In out National News segment, former employees of a seafood restaurant called The Fishing Village might be targeted throughout the country.”

Jim immediately looks up at the television. He nearly chokes when he sees the caption of Tom Merriman.

“No one really knows who’s murdering these people, but all we know for right now is that they used to work in this Jacksonville seafood restaurant. Just two days ago, the police found a body of one man named Elijah Norwood, who was living in Houston, Texas.” When the camera shows the crime scene, Jim freezes in his seat and can only whimper quietly while Sid blinks.

“Oh my god...” he can only say. He HAS to tell Craig this, so he picks up his phone and dials the number. When it’s answered, Sid grins. “Craig! Turn to the news!” He pauses. “Are you up yet? Turn to the news. This is fucking crazy.”

The anchorman “The motives for the murders are unknown, and the owner of the restaurant, Tom Merriman, refuses to comment on the matter.”

Sid then asks, “What? You’re watching it already?”

He hears Craig reply, “I’ve been watching it. I don’t really see the big deal.”

“Think about it, baby. Why would some workers from a Florida restaurant be killed? Actually, why did they leave the state? Something’s going on, man. I think they knew what was happening and they were hiding.”

There’s a long pause from the other line. “Sid, why are you so excited about this?”

“I have no idea, but I think it’s pretty interesting.”

“Sid, I really have to go to work. Like, right now.”

Sid sighs. “All right. I love you.” And at that, he hangs up the phone. He sighs, sitting back on the couch and making himself relaxed. He yawns and says to Jim. “Shit. That’s pretty crazy, isn’t it?”

Actually, Jim has left the living room. A long time ago.

Sid can only blink at that. “Where’d you go, Jim?”

Well, Jim’s in his room, looking through his contacts on his phone. He eventually finds the name Ben, the one that moved to New York. He’s trying very hard not to hyperventilate at the situation, and he keeps whispering at himself to calm down and work out this situation like a man. He dials the number and sits on the bed, anxiously waiting for an answer.

When Ben’s ringtone plays, Jim blinks and has to move the phone away from his ear. You would too if the ringtone was a song by Daddy Yankee of all people.

Sid knocks on the door. “Hey Jim, you all right?”

Jim blinks, trying to come up with an answer. “Um...yeah! I’m fine! More than fine,” he calls out. He sighs miserably when it’s obvious that the man won’t answer. He leaves him a message before hanging up the phone. He sits there, trying to calm himself. Maybe Ben’s just busy or something. Running his fingers through his hair, Jim breathes through his nose as calmly as he can. However, he swallows hard at the possibility that those mafia men will find him one day. He’s surprised that Tom Merriman still hasn’t confessed. Well, now he knows that the guy will never do that. Actually, now that he thinks about it, he really doesn’t even know why he’s surprised.

He looks at his phone and realizes that he really needs to get to the shower. He stands up and takes two towels with him. Sid sets both bowls in the sink as the taller man walks out. Sid takes the chance to ask, “Hey, are you coming to Craig and Corey’s on Sunday evening?”

Jim blinks at the question. “Is something happening?”

Sid shrugs and replies casually, “Well, we always do this—kinda like a tradition. We go to someone’s apartment where he or she hosts a mini-Thanksgiving thing before we go to our families. Last year my roommate and I did that. This year, Corey and Craig are.” Sid kind of chuckles. I mean, his parents are from England, so they really never celebrated the holiday all that much. Sometimes they do. Well, he’s bringing Craig over to his, anyway.

Jim shrugs. “Sure, I don’t mind. I think I’m free. Do we bring anything?”

“I don’t think so.” Sid grins. “So, seeing your family on Thanksgiving?”

Jim rolls his eyes, leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom. “No choice. I really don’t want to go. Mom’s making me go, you know. Wants to show off her son to her family.” Sometimes he doesn’t know why he’s allowing his mother to control him like this. He’s not fifteen. In fact, he’s in his thirties, and a very independent person! Well...

Sid looks away from his roommate nervously. “You know she called me on the phone one day to ask if you got a girlfriend yet.”

“Oh god...” Jim sighs exasperatedly as he simply walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Sid knows Jim can hear him as long as he doesn’t have the shower on, yet. So he continues a little louder, “Maybe you should just ask a girl out or something.” He pauses. “Wait, nevermind, don’t do that. Too creepy. But I think Kathy won’t get on your case if you just find a lady friend or something. That’d give her some hope and she’ll just leave you alone for now.” When Jim doesn’t reply to that, Sid sighs and looks at the dishes, deciding that he’ll wash them later when he’s more awake.

He yawns and turns to walk to his bedroom when Jim slowly comes out. The latter leans against the doorframe, unsure of how he should say this. He’s somewhat amused, though, that Sid brought this up. Because Sid gave him a pretty good idea. He clears his throat and gives the DJ a faint smile. “I...uh, I did meet a woman.”

Sid turns around and brightens. “Really?”

Jim nods, still smiling.

Sid studies the man’s facial expressions carefully. “You like her or something?”

At this, Jim blinks at him, and his smile fades. “What? I...no! Of course not!” When Sid simply stares at him smugly, obviously not convinced, Jim sighs. “Maybe I do.”

Sid then grins. “Awwwww, that’s so cute! But hey! All the more reason to invite her! If she’s not going to see her family.”

Jim scratches his head. “Her family’s from Milan.”

The younger man blinks at that. “Oh...well.” He smirks. “You know what they say about Italian women.” He chuckles.

Jim raises an eyebrow. “What do they say about Italian women?”

Sid continues to smirk, until it slowly fades and he ends up thinking about what he just said. “Um...wait, did I say that? Uh, no I meant Italian /men/. Italian men are what I meant.”

“Oh.”

“Though, I know the women like it when non-Italian men attempt to speak Italian. Anyway, she’ll keep you company while you’re over there, your mother will be a little happy that you’re finally meeting a woman—and what’s-her-face will have something to do on Thanksgiving!”

“That’s not really a bad idea,” Jim simply replies, shrugging. “I guess I can do that.”

Sid grins then. “Well, great!”

Jim smiles back. But there is just one problem, and he soon realizes it. “No, that won’t work,” he sighs, “I don’t even know where the fuck she lives.” He sighs exasperatedly, running his fingers through his hair. He remembers having a short conversation about Milan, but he never asked her about her life here. He mentally kicks himself, telling himself that was the first thing he should’ve asked her. “No, I don’t know where she lives or works at all.” Sid’s smile fades at that.

“Well,” he begins softly. “Well, fuck man.”

Jim simply shakes his head. He sighs deeply. “Well, it was a good idea, though.”

Sid nods slowly. “Yeah it was. I’m kind of a genius. Well, I’m going back to sleep. See you in the afternoon.”

Jim gives his roommate a faint smile. “All right.” As Sid walks back to his bedroom, Jim goes into the bathroom to take a shower and get dressed for work.

____

Sunday arrives, and Jim knocks at Corey and Craig’s door. His boss made him stay longer than he had anticipated, so he called Sid to tell him that he’d be late. Jim doesn’t even know what these guys do in these pre-Thanksgiving parties. Maybe they just talk and drink or some shit like that. Anyway, Jim simply stands there as he hears footsteps toward the door, and as soon as it’s opened, Jim looks down at Corey, who blinks up at him. Thinking that Corey is probably still mad at him for the argument that night, Jim speaks, “Um, I didn’t know if you wanted me to come because of what happened that night...”

Corey slowly smiles at his old friend and sighs. “I forgave you a long time ago.” He moves aside to let Jim in. “Just hope that you can forgive me.”

At that point, most of the others are here as well, sitting on the couches and watching something on television—even Shawn. Shawn looks up at Jim and nods in greeting, as do most of the others. Chris smiles, sitting next to Melissa. “Hey, Jim. Glad to have you with us, man.” Jim smiles in response as he sits down on the couch next to the guy. He simply drums his fingers against his knees, feeling a bit awkward. No one’s really doing anything. Chris then turns to Shawn. “Is Joey coming, soon?”

“He better,” he simply replies. “I’m not going to let what happened that night fuck up this one.” He slowly gives Corey the look.

Corey blinks back at him. “.../What/? It’s not like I’m not allowing him to come.” He then sighs. “C’mon, Shawn. He probably isn’t gonna come anyway, so can I whip out my pies?” He then mumbles something along the lines of “Jesus fucking Christ...”

Melissa blinks. “You made pies?!” she asks, kind of amazed that Corey would even make that for everyone.

Corey raises an eyebrow. “No, I bought them.”

She then sighs, obviously disappointed at the response. “Of course you did.”

Sid then turns to Charlie. “Wait, Lorraine isn’t coming, either.”

Charlie replies, “She broke her leg yesterday.”

Sid sighs at that. “Dude, how does she keep injuring herself?”

The other guy shakes his head. “I don’t even know. I hope I don’t end up like that.” He mentally shudders at the mere thought of becoming more and more like his mother.

Shawn turns to the guy and speaks, “Then fix her a piece of pie when you leave.”

“I will.”

They hear someone knock on the door again, and Corey simply walks over to answer it. He prepares to make himself look optimistic and welcoming, but then frowns when it’s instead Joey Jordison. Joey equally frowns, wishing that Craig had opened the door. He did tell Shawn that he was going to talk to Corey and apologize, but that never happened, yet. Corey leans against the doorframe and sighs. “Well, are you gonna come in or not?” he simply asks, wanting to just shut the door on the shorter man’s face.

Joey sighs. “I’ll just go in,” he replies, slowly stepping inside. But then Corey blocks him, earning a sigh from Shawn and a glare from Joey.

“At least apologize?” the radio deejay speaks.

Joey rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry for that night.”

“You’re forgiven.” As Corey steps aside to let Joey in, the latter knows that Corey won’t apologize to him. He hopes that Shawn will make him soon. He isn’t surprised that he’ll get some looks from the others. While Sid indeed rolls his eyes, Chris turns to the drummer and smiles.

“Hey, Joey! About time you’re here.”

Joey opts to sit by Mick, before glancing at the other guy. “It’s not like I have a choice,” he responds, glancing over at Shawn.

Mick clears his throat. “Well good. I’ve been wanting a fucking pie all night, man.”

Corey suddenly grins. “Well, then you all gather around the counter in the kitchen while I whip these motherfuckers out.”

Joey blinks. “You actually made pie?”

“No, I bought them.”

The drummer sighs. “Of course you did.”

Chris blinks, having just remembered something. “Oh, Corey!”

Corey stops short and glances at him. “What?”

“I wanna put this CD on,” he replies, kind of excited to be sharing it with the others.

“Who is it?” Corey asks, not really wanting to put anyone’s CD in his home audio at all.

“Oh, its Chubb Rock!” Chris answers, “Yeah, he’s a fucking awesome old school hip hop artist.”

Corey simply stares at the guy, raising his eyebrow, and Chris eagerly waits for a response from him.

Well, while the former chooses to play Styx instead (Because he thinks that everyone should listen to “Come Sail Away” at least a couple times in their life), Craig takes out paper plates and forks while Corey then takes out three pumpkin pies from the refrigerator and sets them on the counter. Mick looks over at the pies and asks, “Are any of them sweet potato pies?”

Corey turns to the large man as he cuts up the first slice—for himself. “Um, no. These are all pumpkin.”

Mick is disappointed and snorts, putting his hands in his pockets. “Well fuck that, man. Wish you bought a sweet potato pie. I don’t really like the taste of pumpkin pie.”

Melissa adds, “In my experience, sweet potato pie is sweeter.”

Corey simply glares at both of them, while Melissa clears her throat and Mick stares back. The larger man sighs exasperatedly, kind of tired of saying the wrong thing to people. Of course, Mick can show no mercy if you say the wrong thing to him. “...Dammit Corey, I was just say—”

“Then go bring your own!” Corey shouts back. He angrily cuts up another slice, giving it to the person to his right, which happened to be Jim who thanks him.

When Chris receives one, he suddenly feels nostalgic. “God, I tell you, my mom makes the best pumpkin pie ever. Fucking puts cinnamon and whipped cream on it. I remember when I first had a bite. Melissa knows.”

“Yeah, I just can’t get enough of that,” she says, grinning. “Really hope she makes some this year.”

“She will.”

When Shawn receives a slice, he turns to Chris. “Yeah, I doubt anyone can make dinner as good as my wife.”

Sid grins. “No one can make stuffing as good as Chantal, Shawn.”

“My dad makes the greatest apple pie,” Mick muses. “Man, I hope she makes at least two because I’m probably going to eat one whole pie.”

Charlie sighs. “Mom doesn’t really make anything. We just go over to a family member’s house.” He rolls his eyes.

“My stepdad is actually the one that cooks,” Joey says, taking a bite out of his pie. “And I think he makes the best sweet potato pie, too.”

Mick beams at his roommate. “Fix me a piece, will you?”

“Sure.”

Corey makes sure everyone has a slice, and then he sees that a pie and a half is still free. He kind of checks this a few other times before he sighs. “Well, you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Jim says, smiling. Corey turns to smile back before he grins at everyone.

____

A pie and a half and bottles of beer later, everyone simply sits there, having random conversations. Not only that, but they all have the tendency to drift away from what they were originally talking about. No seriously, a conversation about why Styx is better than Rush soon turned into Mick not having a job. Needless to say, Mick tries to ignore the comment. He does wonder why he still get riled up when people claim that he’s unemployed. “I am employed, Corey,” he mutters at him.

“Yeah, well you never tell us what you do,” Corey spits.

“Well it’s none of your fucking business.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and glances at Craig. “I’m not getting into this.”

“Me either,” Craig replies quietly.

Sid shrugs at Mick, deciding to join in the conversation. “I don’t see why you don’t want to tell us, man.”

“I already told you where I work at,” Mick responds, leaning back against the couch. “None of you guys remember!” Jim glances between the people talking, quite amused by them. Corey just rolls his eyes.

Sid rolls his eyes and turns to Joey. “Aren’t you a little curious about where he works at?”

Mick almost lets out a groan of frustration while Joey simply looks up at his roommate. The small man shrugs. “I guess I am. But if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not gonna fucking push him. Long as it’s legal and it helps pay rent, I don’t really care.”

Mick smiles triumphantly at Joey’s response, convinced that his roommate is the only other sane person around. “Thank you, Joey,” he says.

“I just...well sometimes it’s better to not know what people do,” Joey says. “Like I don’t even know what Jim does.”

Jim decides to speak up. “Well, I work at a car shop,” he says.

Joey shrugs. “Case in point.”

“Oh shut up,” Corey speaks up at Joey, leaning against Jim. “He used to play gigs and fish for a living. I say that’s better than playing in a house band for a horny TV host that probably won’t take ‘Lady, I don’t want to sleep with you’ for an answer.” He grins triumphantly, making Jim’s cheeks warm.

Joey rolls his eyes, but ends the conversation. Sid looks at everyone. “Fuck all of you. DJing is the best job ever. Amen.”

Melissa looks over at Jim. “So what city have you been staying in?”

Jim looks at her. “Oh, Jacksonville.”

“It must be a very nice city.”

“It is.” He really misses the scenery, the lights at night, the music and the food. And he misses not having a care in the world, or to have to think about the past, which he has no choice now that he’s back here.

Sid grins. “And now he’s back. Because he’s homesick.” Jim scratches the back of his head, because that’s obviously a total lie.

Charlie raises an eyebrow at that. “Why be homesick over here?”

Sid then turns to Charlie at that question. “Why are YOU still here?”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Like I have the money to move out to wherever.”

Jim watches the two guys about moving out, especially at Charlie. “I hitch-hiked.”

Charlie stares wide-eyed at the tall man. He then chuckles, “Hah...yeah I’m not doing that.”

“I’ve hitch-hiked before, many times,” Corey says, staring at the ceiling, and he says nothing else at that. He takes a cigarette out and lights it, taking a drag and blowing the smoke away from his and Craig’s guests.

Mick looks up at the ceiling as well, deep in thought. He sighs. “I wonder if they’ll play Christmas songs on Thanksgiving night.” Joey and then Chris and Melissa slowly turn to the large man at that, raising their eyebrows.

Shawn shrugs. “They played Christmas songs after Halloween one year.”

Corey rolls his eyes. “Wow, Mick. You just can’t wait for free gifts, can you?”

Mick simply replies, “Well I don’t really want to buy anyone gifts or anything like that. You know I always email anymore.”

Corey simply stares at Mick, not impressed by the answer at all. “Maybe if you’d get a j—”

“Stop it, Corey,” Joey mutters.

“Well, we’ll know for sure if Christmas songs play on Thanksgiving night,” Chris says, smiling. “Oh, and by the way I managed to get Robert off you, Joey.”

Joey looks up at the man. “Really?”

“Yeah, I had to convince him there’s a better man out there for him than you.” Not exactly what one would say, but hey.

Melissa grins. “He was so wonderful convincing Robert. He really was.”

Corey turns to Chris. “So that’s why I haven’t heard from him lately.”

Chris takes a sip of his beer. “Pretty much, yeah.” He smiles.

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I wish you would’ve gotten my autographed football back from him,” he mutters, shaking his head as he takes another drag off his cigarette. Chris just stares at Corey, wanting to know how in the hell Robert got that football in the first place.

“Dare I ask how?”

“I threw it at him so that he could shut the fuck up.”

Chris still stares at Corey at what he believes (and rightfully) to be the stupidest thing he’s ever done. He draws in a deep breath, shaking his head. “Corey, can I be honest with you?”

Corey glares at Chris but sighs. “Go ahead, Chris.”

“That was very retarded.”

“I fucking know that!” Jim listens at the two, and he can’t help but snort at what Corey did. Corey in turn glances at the tall friend. “Oh, and what are you laughing at, Mister Jimbo? I clearly remember you giving away your first car that you had to a girl and she ran off with it!”

Jim laughs. “I only let her borrow it, and she said we’d go out if I lent her the car.” Some of the others laugh at this. He then turns to Corey. “That was different.”

Corey smirks. “Maybe it was, but still...”

Sid grins. “Well, Jim was actually going to take a woman out for Thanksgiving, with his family.” At this, Jim blinks and stares wide-eyed at his roommate, wondering why he would spill that out. Sid looks at Jim apologetically, and Corey’s smirk fades and he looks over at Jim.

“Oh really?” he simply asks. He then smiles a little. “Is she pretty?”

Jim shrugs. “Yeah, she’s very pretty.”

“What’s her name?” Sid asks.

“Cristina,” he simply answers, not really comfortable with talking about this to people.

Mick grins. “Aw man...I really wish I could go back into dating again.”

Joey stares at Mick at that. “Why do you say that? You know you can always go back into dating again. I really don’t know what’s holding you. You’re not a bad-looking guy, and...well, to be honest, there were women at the studio that have asked about you.” Mick just shrugs at that.

“Yeah, well...”

Corey snorts. “Do they date unemployed men?” he asks as he gets up for another bottle of beer.

Joey rolls his eyes and Mick turns at Corey and replies with, “Shut the hell up, Corey. Do any of the women you go out with date short men with a small—”

“Hey, now!” Shawn interrupts before sighing and rolling his eyes.

“Well anyway, I don’t really know why I haven’t gone up to date anybody,” Mick sighs. Corey quietly walks up behind the couch where Joey, Mick, Chris, Melissa and Charlie sit at.

Joey shrugs. “I’m just saying it’s kind of sad to see you jerk off to porn that you’ve seen a thousand times.”

“Yeah, I know.”

While the two simply talk (with Chris joining in), Jim simply listens to the two before his eyes land on Corey, who looks back at him. After a moment, Corey smiles gently at that guy before glancing at the people on the couch in front of him. After Jim slowly smiles back at him, Corey silently gestures at Joey and Mick, and then he crosses his eyes, making a silly face as he points his index finger toward his temple and rotates it—indicating that the two people are just nuts. Jim smiles at that and shakes his head. Corey then jerks his thumb at Chris and he silently makes the “blah-blah” gesture at Jim, causing him to look down, trying not to snicker. Corey grins at the tall man’s reaction, and gestures at Melissa, and then simply rolls his eyes. Finally he jerks his thumb at Charlie and then sticks his index finger inside his open mouth, pretending to vomit. Jim stifles a chuckle.

Sid and Craig were watching Corey the entire time, as was Shawn. Sid rolls his eyes. “Corey, stop making funny faces at Jim to get him to laugh.”

At that, Jim bursts out laughing, and everyone stares. Shawn chuckles at everyone else. “Yeah, he was making fun of you guys from behind.”

Mick glares and Melissa blinks. “Were you really making fun of us behind our back to get Jim to laugh?” she inquires.

Corey simply stands there, trying to come up with a reply to that. “Uh...well, I...um...” Eventually he gives up and simply gives her the finger, before going to sit back down.

____

Jim is glad that he opened an account here in Des Moines and transferred all of his money to this one before he closed his old account back in Jacksonville. Actually, he mentally applauds himself for pretty much doing that as soon as he got back to this city. Well, today he heads to the bank to deposit a paycheck having already filled out a deposit slip, before the bank closes—which is in twenty minutes. He’s utterly exhausted from the many cars he had to fix today and yesterday. Plus he’s fucking hungry, and pretty anxious. As said before, he’s not looking forward to Thanksgiving with his family, nearly all of them he hasn’t met in a decade.

He tried to tell his mother the night before that he won’t be able to make it, but then his father took the phone away from her and said that if he has to deal with Kathy’s family, then Jim has to, as well. Besides, Michael, Jim’s employer, always closes the car shop for Thanksgiving, so why in the hell would Jim make a stupid lie saying that Michael’s keeping him in for that night? His parents both know this and they told him all that.

“Next, please,” a female voice disturbs Jim from his thoughts, and he steps into the free bank teller station counter, with the woman’s back facing Jim. After she’s finished doing...whatever she was doing...she turns around, saying, “And welcome to Credit U...” she stops when she sees Jim.

And Jim in turns blinks at the woman. Because that woman is none other than Cristina Scabbia.

Cristina grins. “Well, fancy meeting you here!”

Jim slowly smiles, and it’s a nervous smile. “Uh...hi,” he responds somewhat stupidly. “I had no idea you work here.”

Cristina chuckles. “Well, you’re probably never around whenever I’m at work.” Well, she’s got a point. Jim usually does this around the noontimes. “So, how can I help you, James?” she inquires, and Jim is mentally enthralled by the fact that she remembers his name.

He soon remembers why he’s here. He takes out his paycheck and deposit slip and hands them over to her. “Here to deposit a check,” he simply responds. Cristina smiles and begins processing the deposit. Jim soon stares at her again, and can you blame him? Some women look good and sometime even sexy when they concentrate on something. Cristina looks up at him, and he smiles nervously. She smiles back and continues to process the deposit. Soon, a receipt is printed out and she hands it to him.

“All right, Jim. You’re all set.” She then smiles. “Thank you and have a nice day.”

Jim smiles back. “Thanks, you too.” At that, he turns to leave. While she calls out for the next person, Jim sighs miserably. And why wouldn’t he? He really hasn’t felt this way for any woman in who knows how long. Wait, scratch that. He hasn’t felt this way for any woman at all. And it’s strange.

He would always tell his mother that he likes women, too, but ever since staying in Jacksonville, none of the relationships with women really compared to any that he had with men. His relationships with men were a lot more exciting, but then for a while he was beginning to fear that he was actually gay. And had he stayed in the city, he probably would’ve stuck to that. After all, there’s a saying that while bisexual women can like both men and women, bisexual men are really just gay men in denial. But Cristina has given him some hope, really. Hey, if Cristina likes him back, at least his mother won’t bug him anymore, right?

He sighs and before he knows it, he’s right back at the counter, and he clears his throat. “Um, excuse me...”

Cristina looks up at Jim again, as does the old man that she’s helping. She smiles. “Hi, did you forget something?”

Jim opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out, yet. Finally he just chuckles nervously and goes, “Hi. Um...” Opening his mouth again, he’s frustrated that nothing is coming out again. Finally he replies, “Are you free on Thursday?”

The old man groans. “Oh no...”

Cristina wonders why Jim would ask such a question. “Um, no. Not really?”

Jim’s heart races. “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out with me on Thanksgiving.”

The old man glares at Jim. “The bank is going to close, young man! I need my damn money!”

Cristina simply blinks at Jim’s invitation. She then smirks at him, but playfully. “Are you asking me out on a date?” she inquires.

Jim opens his mouth to answer, but once again nothing comes out. When he’s able to find his voice, he replies, “I...really don’t know...” He then asks, “Does eating with my family counts as a date?” Then he mentally curses at himself at how weird that sounded.

Cristina chuckles while the old man groans in frustration. “Maybe.” She then thinks about it for a moment. Jim seems like a very nice man, right? If not, she has a Taser. “Well, okay, then. I’ll see you then.”

See, the words don’t penetrate into Jim’s brain immediately. But when they finally do, he chuckles nervously. Did he seriously ask her out? Let’s rephrase that: did he just ask her out /and did she just say that he’ll go with him/? “Can I have your number?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound creepy asking that at all.

Cristina nods, and she takes out a scrap piece of paper, writing her number down. She then says, “Call me and I’ll tell you where you can pick me up.”

Jim nods. “All right, I’ll do that.” He smiles nervously. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“I’ll see you there.” She grins before she turns to the old man, saying, “I’m sorry about that. How can I help you?”

Jim waves, his smile turning into a grin at what he had just accomplished. He now feels that maybe Thanksgiving night won’t be as bad with her around. He starts thinking about them going on anymore dates—if this one goes well—and for some odd reason he pictures himself attempting to speak Italian.

Well, his thoughts are broken when his foot slips on a wet spot on the floor, and he trips, yelps, and falls on his side. Then he swears aloud when he sits up.

He really hopes that he doesn’t injure himself every time he sees her.