Something Great

Chapter 17

After much debate, the food decision had been made.  Emily, predictably, had her heart set on pizza, which Harry graciously agreed to.  I also knew that she had been incredibly well-behaved all day, and I didn't want to push my luck by forcing her to sit in a restaurant.  I knew I had the right ingredients at home, so I suggested that we go back to the house and make the pizzas ourselves.  At that, Harry's face lit up in tandem with Emily's, and it was only the cutest thing ever. They both looked so excited, like two little kids with an amazing secret, that I had to struggle not to laugh.  However, as Harry held my car door open for me he leaned into me and said quietly, his lips just barely (but intentionally) brushing my ear, "and I even know what I want for dessert." That wiped the grin right off my face, and my eyes flitted up to his, a bit startled.  I could see his sexy grin falter slightly, obviously wondering if he had made a seriously inappropriate faux pas.  But as he licked his lips nervously, I could feel my face get hot and my heart rate pick up. It was a now or never moment.  I wanted him, of that there was not doubt, but I knew I needed to somehow send that signal to him. I wanted to say something witty, flirtatious, and risque, but I felt like my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.  Quickly glancing in the back seat, I could see that Emily was suitably distracted with her coloring book.  So instead of saying anything, I reached up and placed a soft kiss just under his jawline, letting my lips linger for a tad longer than necessary, my hand resting on his chest. His adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly was all the indication I needed that my message had come across loud and clear.  I then smoothly slid into the front seat, my nerves going haywire. When he climbed in next to me, I risked a glance in his direction, my eyes widening when I caught him openly staring back at me, with a completely unreadable expression on his face. Then, with a slight nod of his head, he started the car and we were on our way back to mine. 

Arriving home, Emily sits down at the table with her treasured coloring book, begging Harry to come color with her.  Without even hesitating, he sits down with a grin and starts selecting his crayons.  She insists he uses the pink sparkly one. Nodding sagely, he sets to work.  Shaking my head with a chuckle, I head into the kitchen and start gathering all the stuff I need for pizza and salad.  Prepping the pizzas, I listen to the banter between Emily and Harry.  He's asking her about preschool, what her favorite thing to learn is, what her teacher is like, if she's made friends, etc. Emily happily chatters away, filling him in on the exciting life of a four-year-old.  Peeking into the dining room, I can see him offering her his undivided attention, his expression attentive and serious, as if toy selection during play time warrants the same level of consideration as a discussion on worldwide poverty.  I turn back to my task before he can catch me looking. Before I slip the pizzas into the oven, I call both of them into the kitchen to give the pizzas a toppings approval.  Emily immediately decides she wants more olives and cheese on hers.  Without having to be asked, Harry boosts her up to the counter, so she can add them to her liking. Finally, the pizzas are in the oven and the timer is set.  We all chip in to clear and set the table. As we maneuver around each other, I keep sneaking glances at Harry, looking for, I'm not even sure what.  A sign of some sort? Of how he's feeling, of his impression of Emily, if he thinks everything is moving too fast, if he's already plotting his escape...at that point I have to stop myself from going down that road, a road filled with doubt.  If he wanted to leave, he would have by now.  

I must have been taking too long on that particular place setting, lost in my thoughts, for I could suddenly feel Harry's presence behind me.  Discreetly brushing his fingertips over my hip, so as not to alert Emily, he says lowly, "Stop overthinking whatever it is you're overthinking." Looking over my shoulder at him, I catch his soft, knowing smirk.  Am I really that transparent? With a huff, I take his advice and force myself (although it takes almost herculean effort) to focus on the present and the positive, on what I have rather than what could come crashing down. As if to prove a point, Emily starts warbling a nonsensical song about a unicorn and a squirrel that are best best friends, loading her plate with a piece of pizza, caught up in her own little world of fantasy. Hardly missing a beat, Harry joins in and adds his own verse.  By the end of the song, I'm laughing so hard I'm almost crying.  "You know Harry, that might be a contender for your new material. Just a thought," I say jokingly, taking a huge bite of salad to stifle a laugh.  Playing along, he rolls his eyes, "Well, obviously." Leaning into Emily conspiratorially he says, "Don't worry Em, I'll make sure your name is in the credits." Emily grins widely back at him, nodding vigorously, her face covered in pizza sauce. "I have lots of songs Harry. We can write one about Teddy, or Priscilla!" she says gleefully, referring to some of her favorite stuffed toys.  My eyes flit over to Harry, whose eyes have widened considerably, evidently unaccustomed to the vivid imagination and dogged determination of a four-year-old.  He quickly looks over to me for help.  I just shrug and say with a laugh, "You're on your own. You started it."