Dirty Work - Regina Kyle Page 0,41
the roses? Or eat dim sum from Wo Hop and watch an iconic ’80s movie.”
He lowers himself to the ground, staring at me openmouthed the whole way down. “You went to Wo Hop? I’ve loved that place since college. Their roast pork chow fun got me through freshman year.”
“I know.” Roscoe flops beside Jake, his big canine body taking up a good two-thirds of the blanket. I drag the picnic basket closer to me, open the flap and pull out a rawhide bone to keep him occupied. “Connor told me.”
Jake takes the bone from my hand and passes it to Roscoe, who immediately begins gnawing on it with the enthusiasm of a two-year-old who’s been given his first lollipop.
“You and Connor seem to be getting awfully chummy,” he mutters, not looking at me.
I stretch up on my knees to kiss the corner of his mouth, this spark of jealousy in him making me bold. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. All of our conversations revolve around one subject. You.”
He seems satisfied with that and moves on to another subject. “So what’s the movie? Please tell me it’s not The Princess Bride.”
“That’s next week.” I start pulling dinner out of the basket. Steamed dumplings. Egg rolls. Roast pork buns. The aforementioned chow fun. Both forks and chopsticks, since I don’t know how adept Jake is with the latter. “Tonight’s feature is Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”
He unwraps a pair of chopsticks and reaches for the dumplings. “Cool. I’ve never seen that one.”
Now it’s my turn to gape openmouthed. “Are you kidding me? You’ve never seen Ferris Bueller? It’s a coming-of-age classic.”
“Nope.” He pops a dumpling in his mouth. “Never.”
“Then it’s a good thing I brought you here so you can pop your Ferris Bueller cherry. There’s a huge hole in your pop culture education that needs filling. You’re in for a treat once dusk rolls around.”
We’ve got about an hour before that happens, which we spend chowing down, chatting, people watching, trying to keep Roscoe from eating our neighbors’ meal—fried chicken, clearly more appetizing to him than rawhide and MSG—and listening to the tunes DJ 2-Tone is spinning until the spectacular reds and golds of the Hudson River sunset fade and it’s dark enough for the movie to start. Once Jake and I have destroyed the dim sum, I pack up the remnants of our dinner and head over to the concession stand under a tent at the edge of the water to grab us some free popcorn. Not that either of us is particularly hungry after consuming half our weight in Chinese food. But hey, free is free.
“What’s this flick about anyway?” Jake asks when I return with the popcorn—extra butter, of course, because popcorn without extra butter is barely worth mentioning, let alone eating.
I sit criss-cross applesauce next to him and glance at the screen, where the opening title sequence—the one with Ferris in bed, faking sick—is beginning to play.
“Don’t tell me you’re the kind of person who likes to ruin movies by talking all the way through them.” I hold his bag of popcorn just out of reach. “Because that’s a deal breaker. I may have to go sit with that group of nuns over there. I’ll bet they’ll be quiet.”
“I’m sure they will.” He puts a hand on my ass and gives it a playful pinch. “But they won’t be nearly as much fun. And I know how much you value your fun.”
He makes a grab for the popcorn, and I jerk it away from him, spilling a few kernels, which Roscoe promptly inhales.
“This is a cult classic. You have to experience it for yourself. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
He gives in with a resigned shrug and lies back on the blanket, propping himself up on one elbow with his long legs stretched out in front of him, bare beneath the hem of his khaki shorts and unfairly tan for someone who spends most of his waking hours working. He’s probably one of those guys who gets a perfect, golden tan in the blink of an eye. Whereas no matter how hard I try, the result is always either fire-engine red or pasty white.
“If you say so.” He crosses his legs at the ankles and looks up at the screen. Ferris is up and out of bed and quoting John Lennon. “I just hope it lives up to the hype.”
“It will. Now shut up, watch and learn.”
I hand over the popcorn, and we munch contentedly,