Page 70 of June: Jess' Story
“You want to?”
“Yeah. Need to get a feel for the place. Start learning the area.”
“Okay.” He smiles. “I have to pick up some stuff from my old house, and then I could take you to lunch? There’s this old Italian deli near downtown that my mom used to take me to. I think you’d love it.”
“Yes! That sounds amazing.” I don’t have high hopes for an Italian deli in that dusty town at the bottom of the mountain, but getting out (spending time with Alex) and distracting me from everything with Brit sounds amazing.
It’s the smell that’s a dead giveaway. This place is legit.
All authentic Italian delis have a specific smell. It’s the combination of cured meats, oregano, and a hint of garlic. It smells like home. I inhale and take in the wire racks filled with dried pasta, canned tomatoes, crackers and biscuits. I take another big inhale.Oh my gawd, yes.I’m salivating.
In the car, Alex explained he hadn’t been in years, so he hoped he wasn’t setting us up for disappointment, but I know just based on the smell of this place, it won’t disappoint.
We stopped by Georgia’s old house on the way in. He loaded up a cooler and a couple boxes, and then we left. I didn’t even go inside, but I wanted to. Kind of want to see Brit’s childhood bedroom. Want to see Alex’s bedroom, too, because he’s still an enigma to me. There’s a lot of gray area around Alex, and I want to reveal it.
I immediately grab a shopping basket and start loading up with ingredients to make my marinara. (I’ll get pesto ingredients at the grocery later.) I throw some good pasta in, then head to the back wall of refrigerated goods. I grab fresh parm, meatballs, and a coupletrays of premade stuffed shells. (I’m starving, can you tell?)
Alex is pushing Eden in her stroller, following me around the tight space, but when we get to the deli counter, he steps up beside me.
When a woman with an old-school guest check pad asks for our order, I let Alex do the ordering for us. (A Marco Polo and a Piedmont Special, two servings of pasta salad, two bags of chips, and two root beers.) And then we trade and he takes the shopping basket from me to go pay while I handle the stroller. It’s oddly fluid how we work together. There’s a give and take.“We’re fucking good together, baby,”replays in my mind and I try to hide the smile that works it’s way on to my face.
After he’s finished paying, Alex finds me perusing the stacks of Toblerone. “Do you want to wait outside? I was thinking we could actually head over to a nearby park to eat.” There’s no eating area at the deli, also typical and legit.
“Sure.” I smile, and wheel the stroller out while Alex holds the door. We’re sort of downtownadjacent. The area is older, a bit rundown, but in a hip way. There’s vintage stores, an old theater that’s playing some indie films, (probably a few tattoo parlors around), and small restaurants littering the main street.
“Georgia used to bring you here?” I ask as we wait together under the fading orange, white, and green striped awning.
“Yeah. Don’t know why, this place just always stuck with me.” It’s the smell. I bet it’s the smell.
“I literally can’t wait to try it. This place looks legit.” I look over and give him a smile. “Thanks for bringing me here.” He reaches a hand out, running it across my shoulders and a warmth runs through me.
“I’m gonna go put this stuff in the cooler,” he holds up the plastic bag with my pasta goods. “I’ll be right back.”
Before he leaves, though, he places a kiss on my cheek. But there’s no one around, there’s nothing to show off. It’s starting to all add up, the number of times he’s shown me affection when no one’s been around to see. He’s either method acting…or he likes touching me as much as I like him touching me.
My phone pings and I look down at the text from Damian. I want to be there for him, but it’s a tightrope to walk between Brit and Alex. He’s Brit’s ex and Alex’s best friend. (WasAlex’s best friend?) I make the call not to respond, which is good because Alex is rounding the corner of the building just as I slip the phone back in my pocket. He got all weird last night when he looked at my phone and presumably saw the texts from Damian, and I definitely don’t want a repeat of that.
I don’t get a chance to greet Alex when the bell above the door rings as a customer comes out, and I can hear them calling our number. He quickly passes me to get the food, then is back out, bags in hand. “You okay to walk? Or we could drive.”
“Walk is good.” It’s nice out again today. Nicer down in the valley than it is in the mountains. It’s sunny in Spearhead, but cold. Down here, it’s sunny and slightly warm. It feels more like a spring day on the East Coast than late November.
It’s just a few minutes walk until we sit down at a bench in an expansive park. He points to the road winding through it and says, “That leads to the zoo.”
My eyes go wide, “There’s a zoo here?” (I know, I’m acting a bit brand new. I’m just still surprised this place even has a deli.)
He laughs at me. “Yeah, I hear they just got electricity, too.”
I gently shove his shoulder and laugh. “Shut up. I didn’t mean it like that. Just…this place is surprising me. That’s all.”
Alex nods and starts unpacking the bag, laying out my food for me. It’s that orange peel theory, he knows I can do it, but he wants to do it for me. He unrolls the sandwiches, then trades half of mine with half of his so I can try both. (Love that.)
Eden starts squirming and squealing seeing us eat, so I pull her out of the stroller, set her in my lap and feed her bites of pasta.
“So, correct me if I’m wrong, but this,” I motion with my hands around us, “feels like a first date.” I smile at him and he smiles back.
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t beourfirst date.” I’m sort of taken aback by his comment. Yes, it would be our first date.
“How so?” I ask incredulously.