Like Dizzy Gillespie's Cheeks

Fifty-two

Pudge-butt being interviewed by the media outside the 7-Eleven meant one of two things: either he was a witness revisiting the crime scene or he'd won the seven-million-dollar Christmas lotto. I suspected that the presence of a marching band and tons of balloons meant he won the lottery. Good for him. Sort of.

Although I felt a little parched from the Bundt cake and eggnog, and wanted to slip into 7-Eleven to get some water, I continued on around the corner and down the street several blocks to my flat. It was unusually warm and sunny for the day after Christmas, as most of the snow had melted. Days like that reminded me of spring. The air took on a distinct bouquet, and the sky looked a little friendlier. The problem with falling for the erroneous spring thing was that it always left me disappointed. It was only December—four, maybe five months away from the real spring, and it's real springlike smell and feel—so I had to temper my warm weather enthusiasm immediately, or it would just add to my already depressed state of mind.

For some reason, I looked up at the exact same time Kate turned around. She had just rung my doorbell and did that nervous turn that people do in anticipation of someone answering the door when one is not being expected.

As our eyes met, my heart thumped like a Max Roach drum solo, and my soul rejoiced like a gospel choir singing the praises of the Lord. Kate gave me a crooked smile, and I gave her a cocky nod. She stayed at the top of the stairs waiting for my arrival. As I moved closer, I got more and more nervous. It seemed like forever since I'd seen her, yet it had only been a couple days. Should I hug her? Shake her hand? Give her a little peck on the cheek? Or should I just say "hey"?

All my questions were answered as I reached the top step. It kind of scared me, the fact that it was so natural. The way she gracefully stepped forward, put a soft hand on each side of my face, and gently pulled me toward her for a kiss. A short, "hello" kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. Kate's arms then enveloped me and held me tight for what seemed longer than two people who hardly knew each other should. Every curve and contour of our bodies fit together like perfectly molded machinery. The fragrance she radiated swept into my nostrils as I inhaled deeply several times. The moment had been filed into my memory forever. Normally a situation like that would confuse me, but for whatever reason, things became more clear.

"That was nice. You're a good hugger," she said.

"I had nothing to do with that hug, it was all you."

"Surprise ..." We were face-to-face, her beauty evident from every angle. Time to change the subject.

"I thought you were going to work."

"I checked in, but no one's around, so I thought I'd try to do some Ben research at the Sam Greene library." As we bantered, I pulled out my keys and moved toward the front door.

"Oh, tough luck, the library's closed today. Holiday hours, you know."

"Oh, that's too bad. Does that mean the librarian is free?"

"Yes, but only for a couple hours. Then he has to go to his night job."

I opened the front door wondering if anything incriminating was lying around but then thought, "What, besides a blow-up doll, wearing a pair of my dirty underwear and hanging from a light fixture, would be incriminating? I haven't hung a blow-up doll wearing a pair of my dirty underwear from a light fixture for at least fifteen years."

"Sam, can I ask you something personal?"

"OK, listen. You do this all the time. Rather than ask permission to ask me a question, I'd feel much better if you just asked the question. The anticipation of you asking me a personal question kills me."