Page 67 of Pete and His Precious

Same thing with Pete. If I don’t put any effort out, and don’t try, nothing is going to happen.

But if I try and God blesses, then I have a winning combination.

I hurry to the door, while Flipper runs under the couch.

That’s where Flipper typically stays when someone comes. She is a friendly cat, but not right away. It takes her a little while to warm up to people. Which is fine, sometimes it takes me a little while to warm up to people.

“Hey,” I open the door, hoping that I didn’t dress too fancy. I have on a casual skirt, and flowing blouse. I was going to wearjeans, but I’m more comfortable in the skirt. I just don’t feel as constricted, but skirts do have a tendency to look dressy.

“You look nice,” Pete says, and I can immediately feel my face start to heat.

“Thanks,” I say, remembering what feels like so long ago when I saw him in the restaurant with the rose, waiting for me. What if I had just gone over and sat down.? What if we would have just started talking then? I almost wish I would have.

“You can come in,” I say, stepping back and opening the door after a couple of awkward seconds of us looking at each other. He looks nice too, but I’m not sure I’m supposed to say that. He’s wearing jeans and a dark green T-shirt. It must be a stretchy kind of tee, because while it seems like it’s a little tight, it’s not constrictively so. It’s just tight enough to emphasize all the nice things that men have the women don’t. Like broad shoulders, muscles everywhere, and I guess you get the idea.

Anyway, I drag my eyes from that as he walks by me, and close the door, reminding myself that I’m giving drawing lessons.

He holds up the birdcage. “I think Trixie is excited about seeing Flipper again.”

“It might take Flipper a little while to come out. She is shy when it comes to visitors. You can set him here,” I say, pulling out a barstool and setting it in the middle of the kitchen.

“All right,” Pete says.

“Pete and his Precious. Pete and his Precious,” Trixie says, and Pete looks startled. “He hasn’t talked all day. Not since the last time you were at my place.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know how often they’re supposed to talk, but Trixie doesn’t talk that much. Maybe he’s depressed.”

“Hopefully Flipper will help out with that.”

“Pete and his precious, Pete and his precious.”

I’m trying not to smile, because Pete looks adorably embarrassed.

“I promise, I have not been trying to teach him that. For a long time, I was trying to teach him to say my name instead of Leo’s, but I have not been instructing him on anything else.”

“I believe you. I’m not sure how they pick up things. I’m not sure people actually know.”

“We can make sure that they hear things, but I have not been going around my apartment saying Pete and his precious.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, teasing, and enjoying his adorable blush. It has started running down his neck, and I half expect him to tug at the neck of his T-shirt.

His Adam’s apple bobs.

I decide to have mercy on him. “How long are you watching him for?” I ask, as I point the table, where I have my sketchbooks out along with various pencils. I didn’t think we would get too involved. He only needs to be able to paint things on people’s faces. Not paint a million-dollar picture.

“I don’t know. They didn’t really say when they asked me. They just wanted to know if I could, and I didn’t realize that I was agreeing for the foreseeable future. I suppose I was thinking that I was just going to be for a night, maybe two.”

“I’m surprised, since they're down there. I mean you’ve even took them to breakfast yesterday. Did you ask how much longer they wanted you to have him?”

“I didn’t even think about it,” Pete says, and he seems kind of surprised that it was something that had slipped his mind.

“Maybe you were too busy getting ice water dumped on you to actually think about the things you wanted to say.”

“I suppose that’s a possibility,” he says, grinning at me, and I appreciate the fact that he’s okay with me teasing him. He doesn’t get all upset. Or uncomfortable. And he definitely didn’t attack me. I’ve been around people who can’t take a little gentlepicking, and those are usually the kind of people who dish it out unceasingly.

We pull our chairs out, and sit down. I’m sitting beside him on his right side. I assume that he is right-handed, and it will be easier for me to teach him this way.

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