"Thanks," she said, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind her. She glanced quickly at her surroundings. "I see you like the light and airy look."
Drawn shades covered the few small windows in the basement apartment, hiding the black Mylar sheets underneath. And the faux walnut paneling did little to make the apartment appear any less dark than it already was. Perhaps candles would have made my abode appear less grim, but I did not want to come on too strong. This was just dinner, just a friendly, innocent dinner.
"Well, as a creature of the night, I am not a big fan of the 'light and airy look.'"
"I can tell." She laughed. "Me neither. I've always hated getting up before noon." A creature of the night indeed. Though her flesh was slightly swarthy, it was easily apparent that her pallor was hardly as dark as it could be.
"Please, have a seat." I pointed at the table as I strode toward the kitchen. "Preparation of the meal is almost complete. Would you care for a glass of wine?" She nodded, and I poured a glass of wine then searched for something within which her floral offering might be housed. No vases available, I hastily emptied a bottle of mineral water, filled it with water from the tap, then dropped the rose inside.
"Thanks." Nicole said upon my return, accepting the glass of wine and admiring the new centerpiece on the table. "Now, that's an improvement. Lovely table, but it just needed something extra." She flared her lovely, elliptical nostrils as I took a seat opposite her. "Something sure smells good. What'd you make?"
"It is a surprise. You shall find out soon enough. I hope it will be to your liking."
Nicole swirled the wine in her glass, sniffed the bouquet then took a sip. She smiled broadly. "Very nice.Bordeaux , right?"
"Why, yes." I felt myself smile. Could this American actually possess some Continental culture?
Nicole took another sip and sighed, a big smile on her face. She slouched back in her chair. "My parents were big wine drinkers. I loveBordeaux ." She flared her nostrils once more. "Doesn't smell like beef. Chicken? Chicken in some sort of red sauce? It'd have to be. I couldn't imagine you serving a full-bodied red with chicken unless the sauce called for it."
"You are most perceptive." I smiled, knowing full well that though she was able to deduce the form of the dish, she could not determine its essence, and the surprise would still be intact.
She swirled the ruby contents of her glass, then put the vessel on the table. "Hope it'll be ready soon. I'm starved."
"Very soon. I did not wish to thrust the food at you as soon as you arrived."
"That's real nice of you, Al. Say, why don't you pour yourself a glass. I've got something I want to show you." She reached into her valise of a purse and removed a parcel concealed within a brown paper grocery sack.
"I do not drink, but please feel free to enjoy."
She nodded silently, then removed an engraved steel box from the paper sack. She unfastened a clasp on the box, removed a thick, leather-bound tome and laid it on the table. "Then, drink this."
"Your father's book!" My eyes felt as if they were bulging out of their sockets. I am not easily impressed, but obviously this volume was quite the unusual item and quite valuable; it most likely was about half my age.
"I knew you would enjoy seeing it. By the way, have you thrown away Tacitus yet?"
My hand reached for the book and stroked the soft, worn leather cover. "No, he still torments me. May I inspect your book?" She nodded, and I lifted the book from the table, handling this priceless volume with great care. The cover opened with a most pleasant crackling-creak. The post-Guttenberg lettering was still lovely, hand-set Latin, full of flower and flourish. The inside cover bore the set-type number of this limited edition ofThe Twelve Caesars .
"You do read Latin, don't you?" Nicole asked.
"Yes, I do." Something odd stirred inside me. To my ears, my voice sounded very far away. This gesture of bringing me this museum piece was quite touching, but there was something else, a vague recollection. Inspecting the front and back inside covers revealed no signatures denoting previous ownership. Turning to the first chapter, about the life and death of Julius Caesar, I found that the drop-cap gamma at the beginning of the