Sweeter Than W(h)ine (10 page)

             
“I can cook,” Dina said. “It’s just that there are some people who are better at it. Like Nan Moskowitz, my friend who owns Nutsie Nan’s Café.”

             
“You eat
there?”
Holden said, looking even more unhappy with her. Good grief, she’s committed one more cardinal sin.

             
“Yes, considering the fact that I
do
work for the woman. Or at least I…”

             
“I thought you worked at some grief counseling place.”

             
“I do. That’s my day job when the doctor thinks I’m ready to go back. On the weekends I play the piano at Nutsie Nan’s. Same deal as the day job…I’ll go back when the doctor thinks I’m ready.”

             
“Well, I don’t much care for Nutsie Nan’s stuff.
I
eat at Miss Molly’s Diner. When I’m not having pizza, that is.”

             
“To each his own,” Dina said, helping herself to salad from a ceramic salad bowl. She grabbed stainless steel tongs and put salad into a smaller bowl with an old-fashioned flower print on it. When she topped her salad with dressing, she poured too much and chided herself inwardly for letting Holden’s comments get to her. “If you’d rather eat food prepared by a chef…” she said, in an exaggerated French accent. “Zat is your privilege. I prefer the humble cuisine of a cook, sir. And I will just have to eat these bourbon ball cupcakes all alone.” She inclined her head toward the Polish stoneware plate that held the brownies.

             
“That’s just it,” Holden said. “Nan Moskowitz has no imagination. Her food is all stuff you can get anywhere like mac and cheese and apple pie.

             
Dina was starting to get a little ticked off at Holden’s attitude. Why she had agreed to let him make her pizza, she didn’t know. Until she bit into her pie. “Magnifique.” she said.             

             
             
              “I’m sure you won’t get pizza this good at Nutsie Nan’s Café,” Holden said, sitting down to eat the creation he’d made for himself.

             
“No,” Dina admitted. “But you should try her chili.”

             
When she finished her pizza and salad, she helped herself to two bourbon balls. Suddenly, the room began to spin. “Oh, God,” she said.

             
“Dina?”

             
She gripped her favorite chair, a big, overstuffed one with a green and white checked pattern. She remembered this feeling, the first time she’d left ICU and they’d transferred her upstairs and physical therapy had made her sit on the couch so she could look out the window. She hadn’t stayed there very long because of the dizziness. The phone rang and Dina grabbed it since her cell was right next to her on the arm of the chair. “Allo?” she said, laughing as she continued speaking in the exaggerated French accent she’d used earlier. She felt very, very strange.

             
“Dina?”

             
“Allo, Doc.”

             
“Why are you talking with a French accent?”

             
“Holden is here. He made fun of Nan Moskowitz because he likes Molly Buchanan’s food better. I told him zat is his privilege. I had some pizza, salad and bon bourbon ball…”

             
“Aren’t you still taking pain medication?” Rafe asked.

             
“
Qui.”

             
“Dina, you aren’t supposed to mix…I’m coming back.”

             
“Allo? Rafe? Allo?” He had hung up. Was he really coming back? “Rafe’s coming back.” Dina abandoned her accent.

             
“So? I’ll stay and take care of you ’til he gets here. Why’s he coming back, though?”

             
“I don’t know. Something about mixing pain meds and alcohol.”

             
“I told you not to eat Nan Moskowitz’s food. Now he’s going to think I got your drunk so I could have my way with you and all because of those stupid cupcakes.”

             
“Don’t you dare insult my friend’s cooking!”

             
“I’m sorry,” Holden said. “Just stay there and relax until Rafe gets here. Maybe he can straighten this out.”

***

              The snow was all melted; the temperature was a balmy fifty degrees, but Rafe wasn’t thinking about the weather. What was Dina thinking? Rafe remembered her saying that was another thing that the sainted Jay Galloway said all the time, and then wondered why he was worried about his aunt’s nemesis. He should be concentrating on Dina, and what that young police officer would do if she acted like she had on the phone.

             
He wanted to punch Holden’s lights out, but he knew he had to remain cool. If he didn’t, he’d never have a chance with Dina…if he wanted to take it.

             
He got to her condo. She didn’t even have the door locked. He was able to walk right in.

             
“She’s in the chair,” Holden said. “I think she’s asleep now.”

             
Rafe saw that her eyes were closed and that she’d leaned back against the soft cushions of her favorite chair. “You can leave,” he said, trying to look like the professional that he was. “I’ll take things from here.”

             
“But…”

              “It’s okay. I know you need to get home to your puppy.”

             
Rafe hoped he’d gotten his point across. You’re not important.

             
Holden left, but Rafe didn’t miss the fact that he kept his gaze on him before he walked out the door. Rafe crossed the room with a couple of long strides, and knelt down next to Dina’s chair. Schmoopie came up to him and meowed, and then the feline yawned and walked off. Rafe didn’t think there’d be any dire consequences from mixing pain meds with bourbon balls, but he settled down on Dina’s sofa and stayed to make sure. He turned on the small CD player but kept the sound low. She had a Jay & the Cincinnatians CD all ready to play. In spite of himself, Rafe listened and was surprised at how much he enjoyed listening to the group’s music.

             
Dina stirred and murmured something Rafe didn’t understand. She looked so sweet sleeping in the chair. He didn’t want to be attracted to her, but he couldn’t ignore her nearness. He caught the scent of lavender and flowers in the air—probably from perfume she wore or soap or shower gel. Maybe her shampoo? He saw her open her eyes and crossed the room again, kneeling next to the chair when he got to her.

             
“What are you doing here, Doc? What happened to Holden? I was eating pizza, and then I started on the dessert…is that Jay’s CD?”

             
“Yeah,” Rafe admitted.  “I thought you’d want to hear something familiar when you woke up.”

             
“Yeah. Right,” Dina said. “Admit it, Doc. You like Jay and the band.”

             
“Okay, I like them,” Rafe confessed. “They’ve all got great voices and I’ve got that song, ‘Notorious,’ stuck in my head.” He started to sing, but he knew he didn’t have a good voice. In fact, his singing was terrible.

             
“Don’t quit your day job,” Dina purred softly.

             
“I don’t intend to. And to answer your question, I sent Holden home. He makes a terrible nurse. He shouldn’t have let you mix alcohol and pain medicine.”

             
“I didn’t…” Rafe watched her hazel eyes as she remembered what had happened. “Oh, yeah. Mom Moskowitz’s lethal bourbon ball cupcakes. Nan should have a warning label on those things. I’m sorry I brought you all the way back over here for nothing.”

             
“It wasn’t for nothing,” Rafe said. That was true. He hadn’t felt inconvienced in any way; he’d welcomed the chance to listen to her CD, and to see her again.

             
Dina leaned forward in her chair, and then grabbed the cane that was right next to her. She got up, slowly. When she did, Rafe put his arms around her and held her there. He didn’t kiss her. He just enjoyed holding her and inhaling her floral/lavender scent. Her eyes got larger as he brought his lips to hers, claiming them in a sweet, tender kiss. He could have stayed there forever, just reveling in her and kissing her.

             
“Rafe,” Dina said softly. “I’m so tired.”

             
He kissed her again. “I’ll help you to your room.”

             
She didn’t argue with him. He followed her lead, trying to guide her to her bedroom. Once he got there, Rafe took in the surroundings. For the most part, Dina’s bedroom was neat, with a comforter, blankets and flowered sheets and pillowcases on the bed. A framed photo of a handsome-looking gentleman, probably her late husband, rested on the nightstand beside a couple of books and her cell phone. Once she got into bed, wincing a little from the pain in her knee that hadn’t gone away yet, Rafe covered her with the top sheet and blanket. He looked around again, noticing clothes strewn on the floor and on the bed. So she was definitely not a neat freak, he thought.
              He couldn’t be too hard on her for that. She’d been through a lot, and it probably hurt for her to do even the most mundane tasks like laundry. Physical and occupational therapy could help her here at the condo, but eventually she’d have to do it all herself again.

             
“You don’t have to stay,” Dina said. “I’m okay now, and I’m going to sleep.”

             
“I just want to stay and make sure…”

             
“I’m okay,” she repeated. She didn’t have to repeat herself. Rafe knew what she was trying to say. Just because she’d fallen asleep at the hospital and slept for five days didn’t mean she was going to have a repeat performance.

             
“I’d better stick around for a little while just in case.”

             
She fell asleep and Rafe stayed until she woke up again and he was positive that she’d be all right. When he got ready to leave, he surprised even himself. “Okay, I’ll go. Lay off the bourbon ball cupcakes, okay, Dina?”

             
“Sure, Doc.”

             
“Next week, my brother and his wife are coming up for my niece’s unveiling. I know it’s not exactly romantic, but would you like to come to the service?”

             
“Sure,” Dina said. “I’m anxious to meet your family.”

             
What had made him invite her to the service? Rafe didn’t know, but she was finding her way into his heart.

Chapter Eight

Rafe looked around, surveying the surroundings at Cincinnati Jewish Cemetery. His dad had once told him all kinds of legends about the place, but the memories only made him feel sad. He thought of his dad again, and how much he missed him. He’d loved restoring old cars with him, and hanging around in the garage. His dad had also told him “life is short so insist on nothing but the best.” Rafe guessed that was where he’d gotten his penchant for nice things. His mother had been more frugal, preferring to save up for a few good things, and only when she needed them. If his dad gave her a gift of expensive perfume, or a cashmere sweater, she always wanted him to take the things back; she’d take something for the house, a new skillet, or a vacuum cleaner, or something else along those lines.

His mom hadn’t even wanted the faux fur coat his dad had bought her on one of the shopping channels. It was too extravagant, she’d said.
Rafe smiled to himself at that; it hadn’t even been real fur.

Thinking of his mom’s coat brought him back to reality. The day was chilly, gray and windy. Trees and branches were still bare; no thought of spring yet.

This morning, though, was about his niece. He’d invited Dina to the unveiling with him. He still didn’t know why he’d asked her. Of course, his brother and sister-in-law were there. That was when Rafe envied Dina’s closeness with her parents. Somehow, though, he just didn’t feel close to Adam, especially now that Gracie was gone.

Rabbi Berman, the rabbi from Shalom Israel showed up, and looked around at the group assembled near Gracie’s monument. Adam had picked it out;
Rafe would have chosen a simple stone, but his brother had chosen a heart-shaped monument of carved granite, with Gracie’s dates of birth and death on them and “Beloved daughter of Adam and Merissa Farber.”

No mention of her favorite uncle, but that was par for the course. In a way,
Rafe was glad his brother and sister-in-law had moved away. Dina took his hand as the rabbi said prayers, and he was grateful for the contact. Her hand was soft against his calloused one. He listened to the rabbi and tried to shake the morose thoughts away.

After the short service, Dina tossed rose petals she’d bought at the flower shop around the monument. It was freezing, and it looked like Adam and Merissa were anxious to get out of the frigid weather.