“You didn’t have to do all of this.” He really didn’t — especially taking into consideration Raymond’s persistently picky palate. A myriad of Italian dishes that even he doesn’t know the names of are plated and arranged expertly in front of him and Jessica. The scent of garlic is strong and cloying in the air, and in the dish nearest him Raymond spots whole tomatoes; he tries his best not to wrinkle his nose in disgust. If Parker notices his displeasure, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he tosses his hand towel over his shoulder and, rubbing his palms together, replies, “It’s nothing — I like having an excuse to flex my culinary muscle, and what better way of showing it off than offering two of my favorite people an authentic Italian experience, courtesy of Nonna Luciani’s cook book?” “I like the sound of that,” Jessica says. Clapping her hands together, she continues, “Well, I don’t know about you boys, but I’m starving.”
Ever the gentleman, Parker pulls out Jessica’s chair for her and tucks her in once she’s seated. She looks every bit out of place as Raymond does, but unlike Raymond, she leans into that fact — Raymond and Parker both are barely seated before she takes charge and begins filling her plate with a bit of everything. Raymond sticks to what he knows. The spaghetti is safe, as are the crackers and cheeses. “Yum,” Jessica moans as she takes her first bite. “Tell Nonna Luciani that she’s a genius for me,” She reaches over to place her hand on Parker’s bicep. “This is really good!” Parker can barely contain the grin that threatens to split his face in half. “I’m sure she’s looking down on us right now and appreciates you saying so. Hell of a woman, my nonna — she always said the way to the heart was through good food.” “Wise woman,” Jessica replies with a nod. With a smile, she leans in and stage whispers, gaze bouncing back and forth between him and Raymond, “You know, I always took you for a mama’s boy. I’m glad to know I wasn’t off-base.” Parker’s guffaw is deep and loud enough to shake the whole apartment, and despite his best efforts at remaining straight-faced, Raymond manages to conceal a smile behind his glass of wine. “The Luciani are a line of strong men and even stronger women. All of my strength, I owe to them.” A moment of silence stretches between them. Raymond does his best navigating against whole pieces of tomato when Parker’s clearing of his throat catches his attention. Looking up, he finds both Parker and Jessica staring at him, and he nearly settles his fork down. “So, cadet” — he’ll never let that pet name go, will he? — “what do you think?” The smile never leaves Parker’s face, but there’s a hint of apprehension there, as if he expects Raymond to spit out whatever is in his mouth at any moment. Jessica’s expression is more or less the same: knowing and amused. Raymond takes another sip of his wine. “It’s excellent,” he replies. “My compliments to the chef.” That seems to do just the trick in appeasing Parker. Conversation continues, lead mostly by Parker and Jessica, with Raymond dropping in a comment or two when applicable. He was comfortable simply watching them take charge of the evening, despite the seizing of his gut he refuses to name every time Jessica places a lingering hand on Parker or raises an innuendo his way. By the time everyone’s done eating, Raymond desperately needs a cigarette. “Do you mind…” he trails off, gesturing at the carton in his hands, and Parker waves him off. “Go ahead. The door to the balcony likes to get stuck, so feel free to show it who’s boss.” Parker pushes up his sleeve to curl his bicep and Raymond takes that as his cue to run. His apartment balcony is small and modestly decorated by a collection of garden herbs, most of which Raymond has no doubt could be found in the meal they just had. The first drag is immediately relaxing. The tension in his shoulders seep and tilts his head back, eyes closed, breathing in the dusk. He makes no attempt to move when he hears the door behind him slide open and feels a presence beside him. “You’re so obvious, you know,” Jessica’s voice breaks the silence, and Raymond lets out an amused huff. “Am I?” he asks, flicking the ash off of the side of the railing. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” “What can I say? I like watching you squirm,” she replies, turning around to face him. Hands wrapped around the edge and back facing the railing, she looks at him and says, with all seriousness and just the little bit of softness, “He’s a liability.” “Agreed.” “This isn’t going to work out the way you want it to,” she continues. “Both of you are going to get hurt.” “I know.” He turns to lean with her, looks inside of Parker’s apartment to find him putting away dishes. They meet each other’s gaze and Parker offers a wave. Raymond responds to it with a nod. “I didn’t tell you this, but between you and me, I feel bad for him,” Jessica leans in imperceptibly closer. “He really is a nice guy.” “There’s only so much niceness can do for you in this world.” “I know — but look at him, so cute. I don’t blame your crush on him one bit.” Raymond exhales audibly through his nose. He takes out his carton and stamps out his cigarette on the lid in place of an ashtray, tosses the butt inside. “Let’s get this over with,” he says, resolve firmly in place. “After you.”
