The Parent Trap. Lee Mckenzie
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of them if they would do different toppings on each half. Kate, who three months ago had announced she was vegetarian, wanted a Neapolitan pizza because everything else was gross. He was debating over pancetta or prosciutto for his half of the pie when he was greeted by a soft female voice.
“Jonathan? Hi.” His new neighbor smiled up at him.
“Oh, Sarah. Hi.” She appeared as freshly starched as she had earlier, making him glad he’d pulled on a clean T-shirt before he’d left the house.
“Are you settling in?”
“Getting there. Still haven’t tackled the kitchen, though, and the gas for the barbecue hasn’t been turned on yet so we have to settle for takeout tonight.”
“You won’t be disappointed. Paolo’s pizzas are incredible. Best in the world, according to my daughter.”
“Sarah!” A middle-aged man in a white chef’s apron waved at her from the other side of the pass-through. “Your pizzas will be outta the oven in a coupla minutes.”
“Thanks, Paolo.” She set her handbag on the counter and pulled out her wallet. “I always call ahead,” she said. “Casey and I have pizza and watch a movie together every Saturday night.”
Something akin to envy washed over him. Saturday movie-and-pizza sounded like the kind of routine a family should have, although his never had.
The woman who’d been clearing tables approached the counter. “Sarah, good to see you. How’s your beautiful daughter? She is getting ready to go back to school, yes?”
“We’re all set, Maria. This is her first year of high school so she’s excited and a little nervous, too.”
“Tell her she has nothing to worry about. That girl of yours, she can do anything.”
“That’s sweet. Speaking of high school, I’d like to introduce my neighbor. This is Jonathan Marshall, the new teacher at Serenity Bay High. Jonathan’s daughter is the same age as Casey.”
Maria’s scrutiny was intense. “You live next door to our Sarah? This is good, yes?”
There was no mistaking the suggestive sparkle in those dark eyes, and he didn’t have to look at Sarah to know her self-consciousness matched his.
“Paolo!” Maria angled her head in the direction of the kitchen. “This is the new teacher.”
“Benvenuti to Serenity Bay! You like it here, no? And for you today we give you your first pizza on the house.”
“Oh, no,” Jon said, taken aback by the unexpected display of generosity. “That’s not necessary.”
“Si, si.” Maria wiped her hands on a towel. “Any pizza you like. You a teacher, you work hard. That’s good, yes?” It was more a statement than a question, and it was directed at Sarah.
This time he did glance down to see her reaction, and he liked what he saw.
“Just you and your daughter? You are not married, yes?” Maria’s question was directed at him, although she hadn’t taken her eyes off Sarah.
Paolo’s leisurely amble out of the kitchen broke the tension. “Here you go. One for you and one for Casey,” he said, setting two extra-large pizza boxes on the counter in front of Sarah.
“You’re each going to eat a whole pizza?” The question slipped out before Jon could stop it, but Sarah simply laughed.
“Not all in one sitting.” Sarah handed her credit card to Maria. “We’ll save a couple of pieces for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Pizza for breakfast?”
“You’ve never had cold pizza for breakfast?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
And he could live with that.
“Here’s an idea,” Maria said. “You and Casey, you’re having pizza. And you are taking pizza home for your daughter, yes?”
He could see where this was going. Judging by Sarah’s reluctant nod, so could she.
“You all should have dinner together.” Maria waggled her finger from one to the other. “And your girls, they get to know each other, be good friends, yes?”
He liked the idea more than he had any right to.
Sarah tilted her head. Her eyes, more green than gray in this light, were serious but the creases at their corners hinted at an uncertain smile. He’d initially thought she was standoffish, even a little uppity. Not so, he realized. More on the shy side, and because of that she was going to say no way, not in his wildest dreams was he insinuating himself into her evening. He shouldn’t care but he did, because an evening in the company of another adult suddenly had a lot of appeal.
“It’s not a bad idea,” she said, the smile now real. “For the girls, I mean. And it’ll give you and your daughter a break from unpacking.”
Okay. Not the reaction he expected, but she was right. Getting his daughter out of the house, having her spend time with someone her own age, would be good for her. “Sure,” he said. “Your place? Mine’s still full of boxes.”
Maria and Paolo stood shoulder to shoulder on the other side of counter, each sporting a mile-wide grin.
“Buona idea.” Maria sounded surprised, as if the good idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was a sly one, Jon thought. He had a hunch he was going to like this woman and her husband, and their food, if the warm aroma wafting from Sarah’s pizza boxes was anything to go by.
She tucked her credit card back into her wallet and picked up the boxes. “I’ll see you when your pizzas are ready. It’s a nice evening, so we can sit out on the deck.”
He watched her walk away, again noting the sensible flat shoes. This time he also noticed how she managed to walk like a woman wearing stilettos, and then he wished he hadn’t.
“You have decided what you want, yes?”
Jon swung around. “Ah. Yes. Two pizzas, please. Extra large.”
Paolo was back in the kitchen, throwing dough as he chuckled to himself, and Maria’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she jotted his order on a notepad. “Bella donna,” she said. “Una buona mamma.”
His Italian was far from fluent but he knew enough to know that the softly spoken phrases did not translate to Neapolitan or prosciutto with caramelized onions. And pizza was all he wanted. Just pizza.
* * *
SARAH PARKED IN the driveway between her place and her new neighbor’s. Jonathan’s place. Randomly stacked cardboard boxes, empty, she presumed, littered the porch, and a pair of bicycles leaned against the rail.
Maria and Paolo were about as subtle as a ton of bricks. While she’d stood there in the restaurant, with the pair of them grinning shamelessly and Jonathan waiting expectantly, the suggestion that they share a meal had seemed like a good one. Mostly she’d been thinking about her daughter. Sarah loved that Casey was content to march to the beat of her own drum, but a mother always wanted her daughter’s adolescence to be different from hers. Sarah had been the quiet kid, the wallflower. The first one everyone thought of when they needed help with homework or the gym decorated for a school dance. The last one considered when sleepovers were planned and party invitations sent out.
Sarah knew she couldn’t arrange “play dates” for a teenager, but it might be good for Casey to have someone close to her own age, a classmate, living next door. And maybe for Kate, too. The poor girl had looked lost and sullen, like a kid who could use a friend.
So far today, Eleanor Bentley and Maria Donatelli had not-so-subtly hinted about how nice it was for Sarah to have a handsome, eligible man living right next door. Silly romantics,