That's Amore

“I don’t want to go!” I whined to my sister Courtney.

“Emmitt, you have to be kidding me,” my other sister Rachael said. The two of them were the most similar of the five of us. They had dark brown hair like my father where my brothers and I had dark hair like my mother. Their faces were thin and their bodies the same stick-like things that somehow managed to escape my mother. My mother has wide hips and a round stomach where my sisters can barely pass as mothers. My brothers and I, on the other hand, are very sturdy like my father.

“I haven’t had a date since Michelle,” I told the two of them. I was lounging on Courtney’s couch and she and Andrea had set me up on a date. I hated blind dates and their entire essence. It was dumb.

“Emmitt, you haven’t had a girlfriend since then either!” Rachael said.

“I dated a couple of girls in college,” I muttered through a yawn.

“For two days! You drove them away!” Courtney growled.

“They left of their own free will. It’s not my fault they weren’t open minded enough to handle me.”

“Would you date a girl if she knew the schedule of every plane that landed in Lee Airport?”

“I don’t know every plane schedule…” I said with a pout.

“What about a girl who says things without thinking?” Rachael asked.

“Or a girl who is shy with everyone they’re supposed to be familiar with?”

“And is snarky with new people?”

“And drives like she’s in a car chase?”

“Or doesn’t come out of her house to write constantly?”

“Or lives vicariously through her 16 year old nephew?”

“Emery and I are cool,” I said quickly. “And so what if I have a few character flaws? Love is supposed to be about loving someone for who they are inside. All of those things make me who I am. They can’t handle it so they leave.”

“That’s all true but you have to at least act civil, Emmitt.” Rachael said.

“No one gets me,” I sighed as I turned onto my side to pout.

“Because you’re crazy!” shouted Courtney.

“No I’m not.” My sisters screeched in despair.

“You are going to on that date, Emmitt Richard Rausia, even if I have to drag you there myself!” shouted Rachael.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll go.” I said passively.

“I’m home!” The familiar voice of my nephew rang through the house, a soft girly voice following after.

“Tiffany,” said my sister Rachael. “Always a great pleasure to see you.” The small black haired girl came into the room with Emery. Her dark hair and tan face reminded me of the woman who scolded me that afternoon. Her dark eyes, however, were more gentle and less like razors.

“Hey, Uncle Emmitt,” Emery said as he sat on the couch. I moved my legs to sit up. I leaned my head back against the couch and sighed.

“Hey, Emery. How was school?”

“Eh,” said Emery. “I got an eight four on my history test.”

“The one on World War one?” Tiffany asked. “I got an eighty one. Hillary got a ninety seven.”

“She’s crazy.”

“She studies for hours on end, Emery. Literally, she sits in her room and does nothing but study.” I watched the two children in front of me and the way Emery’s attention was focused on the girl made me wonder if he liked her. There were very few times when a girl held a boy’s attention for more than a few moments.

“Mum,” said Emery. “Can you drop me and Tiffany off at the Cab Coffee shop tomorrow morning?”

“I’m sorry, Emery,” said Rachael. “I have work in the morning. Emmitt, help out your nephew.”

“Not a problem, Em. I got you.” I said to my nephew. Emery and his friend exchanged a glance before nodding together. Emery leaned over to whisper something in her ear and she nodded a little.

“What are you two whispering about?” I asked as I glanced at my nephew.

“Nothing,” Emery said as he stood.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Tiffany stood as well and Emery glanced her way.

“Because you never trust anyone and you have this weird thought that people are always lying to you.”

“That’s not true. I’m a very trusting person!”

“Too trusting,” my sisters said. “You are easily mislead, Emmitt, which is why you don’t trust family. You know they will mislead you towards things that will help you.”

“What? No I’m not!” I said as I glared at them over the couch.

“Remember that time Lance Harring talked you into jumping that quarry? He said he would give you candy. You broke your arm, bike and nearly snapped your neck.” Rachael said.

“It was my favorite candy bar! And I was like… 15!”

“He didn’t give it to you though!” I pouted suddenly, remembering my absent Twix bar. “Plus, they don’t make a very good argument.” Courtney said. “They are acting suspiciously.”

“You are very perceptive, Emmitt,” Rachael added. I grinned proudly.

“Well!” I said as I rose from the couch as Emery and Tiffany were walking toward the dining room to do homework. “I’m going to skedaddle and get to work. What time is my date?”

“Nine o’clock,” Rachael and Courtney said with seriously looks.

“Don’t be late,” Rachael added.

“But what if I’m in the zone?” I whined.

“I’ll rip your zone in half, Emmitt.” Courtney snapped. I sighed and pushed my hand through my dark hair.

“But my zone is so nice! It took me a very long time to build it.”

“Go to work,” my sisters grumbled. I sighed and nodded before leaving for the door. As I closed the door, I heard “why are you going to the coffee shop?” and it killed me that the door was already closed.



My night was dreadfully boring. My sisters didn’t know how to pick a girl for me. No one does. The girl was boring; painfully so. It was like she’d never laughed in her entire life. I couldn’t even bring myself to try to be funny. Just listening to her drone on about something killed me. While she spoke, I had a conversation with my steak and potatoes about how boring she was. I wasn’t rude at all and tried to pay attention but honestly, she lacked the creativeness I needed in someone. I couldn’t stand people who were boring. I felt they were just a waste of space. I’d never tell someone that after the conversation was over but I’d never go to them for a conversation again.

I left her at her home with a small smile and a kiss on the cheek. I owed it to her for being so out of it. I got home at about ten thirty, figuring an hour and a half was good enough for her. I walked into my apartment and threw on the light. I sighed and stared around my place. Like always, the entire room was a mess. The cheap, hundred and twenty dollar couch I owned was crowded by books, the coffee table was covered in notebooks and notepads, the floor was littered with clothes, sheet music and various research material. I never bothered to clean up. I walked through the mess, placing my coat on one of my tall, three hundred and fifty dollar speakers. I pulled the Wisner knot out of by blue and black tie and placed that on my desk. I pulled the pale white shirt I wore out of the black dress pants I wore and peeled them off to feel more comfortable.

As I threw on my flannel pants and t-shirt, I turned on my laptop and headed toward my bathroom. I took out the contacts I wore and grabbed the black glasses that made me seem like a nerd. I moved my hair out of my way and padded through my apartment to my bed, where my laptop sang its happy jingle. While I let it load, I looked for the many flash drives that I had and while I did that, the phone rang.

“Yeah?” I answered, knowing it was either my sisters or brothers or my parents. No one called me.

“How’d it go?”

“How did you know I was home?”

“It’s late enough. If you didn’t like her, you would be home—which you are—and if you did like her, you would be out and wouldn’t pick up. So what was wrong with this one?”

“She was as boring as a rock!” I complained as I let my arms drop.

“Did you even give her a chance?”

“Of course I gave her a chance! I was polite and kind and paid attention to her. I just could never date her again.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“I know, but you and Courtney seem to think otherwise because you keep trying to help me when I don’t want help.” Rachael sighed and I did as well. “What time does Em need to be at the coffee shop?”

“Ten,” my sister replied.

“Do you think he likes that girl?”

“Tiffany? I don’t know. She’s certainly a nice girl. Her cousin is Emery’s teacher. She’s great. Very serious though and seems a bit uptight. Emery loves her, though, so she must be doing something right.”

“Yes, yes, that’s nice,” I said. “But do you think he likes her?”

“I don’t know! He doesn’t talk to me. He only talks to Aaron.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Rach. No guy talks to their mom about girls. Aaron is a good man. I mean, you married him. Hey, I’m writing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow alright?”

“Alright,” she sighed.

“Hey,” I said into the phone. “Thanks, Rachael. It means a lot that you’re trying to help me.” She smiled, I could tell, through the phone and replied with ‘you’re welcome’. We hung up and the rest of the night was full of mindless writing.

By morning, I was curled up in my bed around my laptop, cradling it as to not lose it. I awoke at nine, got to Emery’s by nine fifty, Tiffany’s by nine thirty and got to the shop by nine-fifty; I was a speed demon. I, however, was barely awake to drive, let alone operate for the rest of the day. Emery got me in line while he and Tiffany left me to start studying or whatever it was they were doing. I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep until Emery moved me forward and ordered me a black coffee and my favorite treat; a strawberry Danish. After he handed me the package of food and the coffee, I started toward the door until I saw three people that were too familiar for me to pass up.

“Triple A? What are you three doing here?” They looked up from the person they were talking to and smirked at me.

“Mornin’ there, Captain,” said Athena, my only girl friend.

“We’re talking to this nice woman,” said her boyfriend, Alex.

“Have a seat,” said the last of them, Trevor. We called him Archer to make a Triple A package. The elegant smirk of someone made me do a double take. She looked so much different from when I first met her. Ms. Anderson, if my memory served me right, was no longer the strict looking woman who taught math to my nephew. Instead, she looked human. Her hair was let loose, except for a few strands that were pulled away from her face. She had naturally pink lips that were pulled in a smile as she sipped at a pink colored drink. Her brown eyes were focused on me and her lashes hid their intentions.

“Mr. Rausia,” said the woman. She wore a light blue t-shirt that hugged her torso and a pair of tight black jeans. She wore a pair of bright blue converse and looked like she was a high school senior.

“Ms. Anderson, correct?” I asked. She nodded and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” For some reason, the whole encounter seemed like déjà vu. She looked oddly graceful and meaningful of how she sat, though her position was casual and loose.

“Uncle Emmitt, you don’t have to say,” Emery said quickly. The woman turned to him and muttered something.

“You can stay, Mr. Rausia, if you should like. You wouldn’t mind staying, would you?” I shook my head, perfectly willing to sit with a woman as gorgeous as the one before me. “How was your date?” she asked.

“It was alright,” I muttered out of the side of my mouth.

“That bad?” she asked with a smile.

“He said it was good,” said Tiffany.

“Yes but you have to watch him as he says it. If you look at his face, you’ll see how displeased he is to say it. Everything about a man is in his face.” I frowned and began to object before the woman started to smile more. “You are very easy to read, which is strange because your books are very complex.” I frowned more, unhappy with the thought of having someone talk about my books. I’ve never liked the idea of having someone read my books, especially if they (the person that is) was boring. “Your females are very predictable, Mr. Rausia, but they are very good stories, none the less.”

“Uh…thank you,” I managed to say as I smiled.

“The newest one, the one about the king, was dreadfully boring, however. I could barely finish it. The only reason I did was because of the Archer and the Prince. Their friendship was inevitable but the second book made it very entertaining even if it was cliché. They were much more entertaining in this book than they were in the first one.” She smiled loosely then, like she was a child instead of the queen she otherwise was.

“My editor didn’t like them,” I said. “She says they’re sophomoric.”

“They’re only teenagers. One cannot expect them to act otherwise. My editor has the same problem with my two main characters.” She said laughing. Her laugh was rich and wholesome, like it was something normal and average and something that just belonged to the moment. “My unofficial editor,” she said looking at Tiffany “seems to think that my characters are weird. I find the comedy between your characters very relieving in the otherwise dark atmosphere that your book is in. It brings a bit of hope and light into the story.”

“That’s what they were supposed to do,” I said in an odd sense of joy. “You really liked them? No one every likes my books.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “Someone I know really likes your books. I personally prefer your earlier work. You didn’t have as much darkness and hopelessness.”

“Wasn’t that when you were dating Michelle?” asked Emery. I glared at my nephew, who shrank back behind the woman.

“I don’t know who she is, but she was a good muse.” I looked at her and she smiled. “We seem to have gotten off topic. The reason we came here was to get some help.”

“You can keep talking, Ms. Anderson.” Emery said.

“Is it weird to be called that outside of school?” asked Archer. I had almost forgotten the three of them were there.

“No,” she said, turning her attention to him. “I’m called that so many times it might as well be my first name.” She took a bite of her doughnut and turned her attention back to me. “So what was she like?” I felt the hesitation in me subside, which was not normal for me with strangers. I hated strangers. They were always asking so many questions, demanding things, wondering what the heck was going on in your life; it was bothersome. She, however, felt familiar. She seemed to know me even though I had just met her.

“She was boring,” I said quickly. “No creativity.”

“I hate people like that,” she said bitterly as she stared into her drink. “What is the point of living life if all you see is what is given to you?” She sighed and looked back up at me. “What else was wrong with her?” she asked. I wanted to tell her that nothing was wrong with her, that she was a great person and that I just didn’t want to date her again but I just spoke.

“She was too nice. She kept trying to tell me that I wasn’t the bad person I tried to be. She was so soft spoken and didn’t seem to have a mind of her own. She just said things that she thought I would like. She was terribly stern too. It was like she was trying to be happy but she just couldn’t manage to be. And she wasn’t funny at all. She had no sense of humor. It was like she had never laughed in her life.”

“Emmitt,” said Athena. “You’re never this honest with anyone. What’s gotten into you today?” I looked at her, into her big blue eyes and shrugged a little.

“I have no idea,” I muttered.

“Was she beautiful?” Ms. Anderson asked.

“Very,” I said. “But it was too much. It was like she had to make herself that beautiful. She had to plaster on the face she showed. She had to dress herself up in the clothes that she thought she would impress but it didn’t work. Beauty shouldn’t be painted on.” Ms. Anderson was smiling then.

“My, Mister Rausia, I never pictured you as a romantic.” I began to blush a little and she laughed at me. “And your face gives forth the red of the heart that bleeds so steadily for the love that one can only dream of.” I suddenly smiled as well.

“Did you just talk in ye old English?” It was then her turn to turn red.

“I’m sorry,” she said with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t be,” I replied. She glanced at the others, who were all whispering. “It appears we are at a whispering party and we weren’t invited.” She smiled, a smile that seemed to just bubble out of her, and shrugged.

“I like this party better.” I smiled as well and just stared at her. She bit her bottom lip and the elegance she once had gave way to awkwardness. I laughed suddenly at how silly it was to feel awkward, and she did too. The five people stared at us like we were crazy.

“May I call you by your first name?” I asked. She nodded and grabbed a pen to write down her name on a napkin. She slid the napkin my way and I smiled more as I saw her name and her number written neatly. I looked back up at her, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I cracked my knuckles nervously as she rose suddenly. “Are you leaving?” I asked. She smiled, a gently and tender smile, and nodded.

“Afraid so, Mr. Rausia,”

“Call me Emmitt,” I pleaded. She nodded and looked at my friends, thanking them for the wonderful morning. She looked at Emery and Tiffany expectantly.

“Will you be coming with me?” she asked, making them nod.

“I…” I wanted her to stay. I wanted her to be with me and talk to me. She was fascinating. She turned to me, those brown eyes so caring and free.

“Have a good day, Emmitt.” She waved good bye and the three of them left. I stared at her and then looked back at the name on the napkin; Leah.

“Leah and Emmitt, sitting’ in a tree!” Archer sang. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” I glared at him but did little else. I was preoccupied by the queen who had just left my presence and the heart that she took with her.