“Pink is a millennial color,” I smile. “Supposedly, everyone uses it on Instagram.”
“What do you know about Instagram?” Nella teases. “I thought you were an old man!”
“I am,” I growl, pulling her back into the circle of my arms. “But even old men have eyes, and you can’t help but be bombarded by pink everywhere you go these days.”
“Oh you,” she says with a smile, breaking away to pour me a drink. “Port? I don’t have any of the expensive stuff, but my dad gave me this after a trip to Portugal last year.”
I examine the deep burgundy liquid before taking a sip.
“This is amazing,” I say, letting the warmth trickle down my throat. “Your dad chose really well. Now what have you been up to today?” I ask as we sit on her couch, close and comfortable. Nella leans her head on my shoulder as I stroke her thigh.
“Oh you know, the usual. I did some much-needed laundry, and cleaned. My bathroom was kind of disgusting because it doesn’t air out very easily, so you have to attack it with bleach and disinfectant. Oh wait, should I have told you that?”
I throw my head back with laughter.
“You don’t have to sugar coat things,” I chuckle. “I can see that this place doesn’t have many windows.”
She shakes her head ruefully.
“I’ve never made that much, even with the escorting, so yeah, you can see that I live in a very humble apartment. But it works. There’s an oven and a fridge, even if the fridge is only half-size. Plus, my parents got me one of those mini-toaster ovens, which is super useful. You can use that thing to make things like grilled cheese or even broiled salmon.”
My stomach rumbles then and she giggles.
“It sounds like you’d love some salmon right now.”
But I shake my head.
“No, it’s okay, honey. No need to get up and cook because I’m enjoying my time here with you. We can eat later. Did you get some time to work on your art today at least?”
She nods happily, a bright smile coming over her face.
“Yes, and inspiration really struck too. I did a drawing of the magnolias in the park nearby, as well as some children who were playing on a swing set. They were utterly adorable.”
A wave of masculine pleasure washes over me because again, I can see Nella as a doting mother, watching our child toddle around at the playground while an infant nurses at her breast. I can imagine her growing swollen and heavy with my baby inside her belly. But it’s too early to tell her these things, so I merely smile.
“You’ll have to show me your drawings one day.”
She beams and winks.
“I will, Paul. Promise.”
With that, we chat leisurely. It’s nice. It’s been so long since I’ve had decent conversation with a woman, and Nella is bright and independent, as well as beautiful. In fact, she’s so skilled at making conversation that before I know it, I’ve recounted my entire childhood.
“We didn’t have much, but Mom and Dad made the best of it. They couldn’t afford to get me big birthday gifts like the other kids at school, so instead, their gift was a week of birthdays. For the six days leading up to my birthday we got to do one fun activity of my choice. We would go for bike rides and treasure hunts, all sorts of cheesy stuff.” I laugh gently at these memories, remembering how little my family used to have. But they were good times, and I wouldn’t trade my childhood for all the money in the world.
“That sounds fantastic,” Nella says in a soft voice. I nod.
“And then on my birthday we’d make a chocolate cake together. It was always delicious but making it was just as great. We’d get into little food fights and compete over who got to do the taste test. I always won of course, but thinking back, I’m pretty sure my parents let me win.”
She smiles.
“That’s really sweet. Your mom and dad sound like magnificent people.”
“They were,” I agree. “Definitely.”
But Nella picks up on the strange timbre in my voice immediately.
“Were?” she inquires in a soft voice, her eyes large. I nod.
“They passed away when I was twenty-one.”
Immediately, her expression falls.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Paul! That must have been incredibly difficult for you.” I take her hand, interlacing my fingers through hers. It feels right and looks right for our palms to be joined like this. I nod slowly, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat. Where did that come from? I haven’t felt this emotional since the day my parents died. It seems Nella has a knack for bringing out the softie in me.
“It was. I miss them every day, and it was especially hard because we were really close. Of course, I was an adult when they passed, but I was still learning from my parents, and I was more dependent on them than I realized.”