TUESDAY TALES - WOOD

 

 Howdy! 

Welcome to Tuesday Tales where a group of authors write stories to word prompts. The prompt this week is "wood". We have another episode of "Two of Hearts" again this week. When you've finished reading my story, visit the other authors and read their stories. Find them HERE. 

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His brow furrowed. If she wanted to talk to him, then who could the voicemail be from? His touched the button.

“Hi, Terry? This is Jen. I’m having a shitty day at the hospital and thought I’d drown myself in a big Italian dinner. Cooking is sort of a hobby for me. I need something. I know you’re missing home cooking. So I thought maybe, if you didn’t have plans, you’d like to come over for dinner? I mean, I can’t eat all that food myself. Dinner’s at six. Just come over, if you can.”

He quirked an eyebrow. A dinner invitation from Jen? Of course, he didn’t have plans. The thought of a home-cooked Italian meal made his mouth water. He saved her number, then sent this text.

 

                 Thanks for the invite. Sounds great. See you at six.

 

As he walked home, he pondered her invitation. It made complete sense, she was alone, he was alone –why shouldn’t they eat together? No reason, none. He wondered why she hadn’t invited a girlfriend. Maybe she didn’t have any? From what she said, she had a busy life with Stan. Whatever her motives, he was grateful to be invited. On the way home, he stopped at the wine store. Bypassing the cheap Chiantis, he opted for a bottle of the good stuff. Fifty bucks. You can’t bring crap to a dinner at the private townhouse of a Nobel winner, can you?

When he entered the apartment earlier than usual, he took Queenie by surprise. She had been sound asleep on the sofa and barked at the intrusion.

“It’s me, girl.”

He had an hour to kill, so he showered, put on his best jeans and a T-shirt and shrugged a plaid flannel shirt over it to protect against the early May chill. He harnessed the pug and they hit the elevator.   

When he returned, he stopped to comb his hair. No aftershave. That was for Clare. This wasn’t a date, just two friends getting together for dinner. Two lonely friends, sharing a meal –that’s all it was and that didn’t rate aftershave. He picked up the small shopping bag with the wrapped bottle of wine, fed the dog and headed for the front door.

A little tension gathered in him as he approached the big wooden door of the elegant townhouse. He hoped Jen didn’t have anything more in mind than a nice dinner and chitchat. This was his first dinner alone with a woman that wasn’t a business dinner since he married Clare. He figured a little nervousness would be appropriate. He rang the bell.

That's all. Thanks for stopping by.