Page 16 of Pete and His Precious

I have no idea what to do, other than to turn and look up at Officer Pete.

There he is being really nice to me, when I was going to stand him up. I totally didn’t think a thing about it either. Like, I had zero intent to be kind or compassionate when he was sitting there, and zero intention of actually telling him that I was his date. I was just going to let him sit there indefinitely, until he decided that there was no point in waiting any longer. Talk about rude.

“Are you sure, because I just canceled the order,” the teenager said, sounding really annoyed. Not that she has sounded anything other than that the entire time she’s been taking care of me.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Pete says, and...he sounds nice. Not overly friendly, but not mean, like he has to do what he’s doing and he resents it. He sounds like he’s doing it because he wants to, because he’s...nice.

I don’t want to believe that. I want to believe the stereotype that I built up in my head that he’s actually a jerk, and a big one at that, and irredeemable.

But I know that’s not true, and I know that this is the Lord teaching me a lesson. I like to see people as being all bad, or all good. Whereas I can look at myself and I can see that most of the time I feel like I’m pretty good, but I know that there issin in my life, things I could do better, things I don’t do nearly well enough, and I want other people to notice that, and give me more credit for my good than my bad.

And yet, I wasn’t doing for Pete.

“All right, it’s $19.27,” the teenager says, and Pete reaches into his billfold, pulls out his wallet and pulls out a checking card. He hands it over to the teenager, and says to me, “I’ve done that before. So, I do a little check when I leave my apartment: keys, phone, wallet. And I touch each pocket they’re in.”

He laughs a little, and then he says, “And when I leave the police building, I say key, cuffs, phone, wallet.” His voice cuts off abruptly, as though he notices that cuffs are what he used on me.

But he’s been nice to me, and I am not going to be nice to him. Because no matter how much we talk, I’m not going to admit that I was the person who was supposed to sit down beside him.

“I appreciate you paying for my meal. I’m sorry about what happened last year. I... Don’t usually do that. Thank you.”

When I started to talk, his brows flew way out, and then they came back down, and then he kind of tilted his head as though really listening to me. Like he was trying to catch a note in my voice that he didn’t quite hear, but he thought he might if he got closer and really listened.

It was weird. I’ve never had anyone listen to me like that before. Even though I’ve had people tell me how nice my voice is. Sultry, perfect for romance novels, soothing, all the things. That’s just some of the things they say about it. Which is probably why I got into voice acting in the first place. That, and I seem to be able to be consistent with my voices, and I have a lot of them.

I didn’t really mean to use my sultry voice on him. It’s just the one that came out.

“Were you here with someone?” he asks, and he sounds very hesitant.

I shake my head so fast I think my brain rattles. “Not at all. Actually, my girlfriend was outside, but she got a call from her mom. And you know how that can be. Her mom’s pretty fierce, and if she didn’t answer, she was going to be in trouble.”

“I see. So you’re with a girlfriend?”

He looks at me again as I was talking. That look like he’s analyzing my voice. If only he were a Hollywood producer, I’d talk all day long if he wanted me to go to Hollywood and would give me a job that would actually put food on the table and pay bills.

“Yes. She’s outside. I’m gonna head out as soon as I get my food,” I say, giving a short smile, and letting him know that this conversation is O.V.E.R.

He jerks his head, and I say, “Thanks again for spotting me. I owe you.” I don’t owe him so much that I would actually sit and be with him, but I do owe him. And I can admit that.

We stand there, staring at each other awkwardly, and I wonder where the kid went, and the mom, but with all the people in here, I guess it doesn’t matter.

He lifts a shoulder and says, “I better get back to my table before someone takes it. I’m waiting for someone.” He seems almost as though he expects me to say something in return, like yeah, I’m the person that you’re waiting for, but I don’t. Of course, there’s no way I’m going to say anything like that, and he turns away, and I walk to the opposite side, where customers pick up the orders. I stand there, trying to put the whole thing out of my head, but still having it go over and over in my mind, until they call my number, and I pick up my food. I’m on the way out the door before I realize what really bothered me and what I was missing from our exchange.

He heard my voice through the wall. He recognized me. And he knows I stood him up. After he paid for my food.

Now, if he didn’t already think I was a total which because of the animal-rights thing, he definitely thinks that about me now. And there’s not a single thing I can do about it, unless I want to go back and sit down at his table, which, call me a coward, I don’t do. Instead, I see Verity still talking on the phone with her mother and throw up a hand and a wave. She hurries over, we get in my car, and we drive away.

Chapter 7

Pete

That was her. That was the girl.

My neighbor, Sultry Voice Woman, who soothes me with her absolutely dreamy voice, is also Naked Animal-Rights Woman.

I take a breath and blow it out. I don’t want that to be true.

One woman is a woman I look forward to hearing, who soothes my soul and whose voice gives me rest and calm at the end of a difficult day. The other is one of the worst memories of my life and a person I wouldn’t mind if I never saw again.

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