“Oh. Do I need to choose?” she asked.
“No. But you are required to share one of them.”
She smiled and pulled a red flower from the bouquet and tucked it in his coat pocket. “Hope you like red,” she winked.
He pulled it out of his pocket, brushed back her hair on one side and placed the flower to rest over one ear. “I do, but much better on you. Now can I come in, or are we going to eat in the hallway?”
Charlene stepped aside. “Enter. And take a seat in the kitchen. I meant it when I said it was ready.”
“Whatever it is, it smells good,” he said. Seth didn’t eat at home much and when he did, it was delivered. He could cook and very well too, but it was such a waste of time doing it for one. Besides, cooking meant dishes and he hated doing dishes, even if it was putting them in the dishwasher. Maybe having to wash them by hand for a year as a child had scarred him for life. But that was his punishment for cussing in the house. Even now, he never would swear in front of his mother.
“It’s stuffed peppers.”
“I’m not sure I’ve even had those,” he said.
She turned and said, “You’re kidding me right?”
“No.” When she placed the dish in the center of the table he added, “Please don’t tell me that’s ketchup.”
“No. It’s pasta sauce. Not as good as if it was made from scratch, but at least it’s a good jar of sauce.”
“I thought Italians called it gravy?” Seth asked.
“Kittredge. Does that sound Italian to you?”
“Good point. I guess I thought because you grew up with Sofia and Sal that you were.” She also had the dark hair and features too. And that beautiful golden kissed skin.
“Most people in that part of town were Italian. Funny, that you would think growing up around them that I’d have learned how to speak it. The only thing I know is when Mama, that’s Sofia’s mother, is mad. She starts yelling words that you don’t want to know. And if your name is spoken at any time during that rant, your butt is in deep trouble.”
Seth laughed. “Only English spoken in my house growing up, but the same happened.
“I bet you were Mr. Goody Two Shoes back then.”
“Why do you think that?” he asked. She wasn’t that far off, but goody two shoes? Never.
“Because you’re practically that now,” she explained.
“You are mistaken, trust me. And furthermore, the original meaning of the phrase was from a children’s story back in 1765. There was a little orphan girl who had only one shoe. A rich man takes pity on her and gives her a pair of shoes. She runs around town telling everyone she meets she has two shoes.”
“Okay. Now you’re scaring me.” Charlene stated.
“Why is that?” he asked.
“Because I was only teasing you and you actually know the origin behind the joke.”
“Let’s just say that is because I had been called it a few times when I was very young. I did my research to learn if it was a compliment or not.”
“And?”
“My next research was boxing. The name calling ceased shortly after that,” he said.
Charlene grinned. “Oh, some bad boy stories. Guess tonight you can do the talking and I’ll do the listening.”
“Wait a minute. I never agreed to tell you all about my childhood,” he said. His family was one thing he didn’t want to talk about. That would lead to more questions and he didn’t want to talk about them.
“Okay, one story from you and one from me. How does that sound?” she asked.
“That’s fair. Let’s hear yours?” he said.