Syndi Powell - Healing Hearts

Nonna stopped at their table and smiled. “This looks great. What pasta shape do you want to make?”

“Ravioli,” Zach said. She patted his cheek and moved on to the next group. When Page and April looked at him, he shrugged. “I used to make them with her. It’s one of my favorite memories.” He handed April a knife. “You’ll want to cut the pasta in squares of equal size.”

She looked at the beautiful yellow dough in front of them. It was almost too pretty to cut into anything, but she carefully placed the knife on one edge and drew it down to the other. Once they had the dough cut into neat squares, Zach retrieved ricotta and Romano cheeses, eggs and parsley. He gave the parsley to Page to chop while April shredded the Romano cheese. He measured the ingredients into a silver mixing bowl, then showed them how to put a tablespoon of the cheese mixture in the middle of one square then place a second over it, pinching the edges to seal it up tight.

April stared at him. “I thought you couldn’t cook?”

He leaned over one ravioli, pinching the edges. “Despite what my nonna believes, I do know how. I just don’t have the time to do it.” He placed the ravioli on the overflowing plate, then looked up at her. “Can you cook?”

She shook her head. “I can microwave frozen meals and chop vegetables for a salad. I also pour a mean bowl of cereal.”

He grinned and brushed the tip of her nose. “You had a little flour there.”

She reached up to where he’d touched her. “Is it gone?”

Page cleared her throat. “You’re fine. So, Chef Boyardee, what do we do next?”

* * *

ZACH REALIZED HE’D been gazing into April’s baby blue eyes for far too long. He glanced at her friend and gave a nod. “Right. Next step. We’ll boil the ravioli for about six or seven minutes. Then we drain them and toss in the pesto.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Page took the plate up to the stoves where students had gathered to place their homemade pastas into the pots of boiling water.

With her friend gone, Zach looked over at April. She wore a soft sweater in a shade of blue that complemented her fair skin and eyes. It looked as if she’d be soft to the touch. Soft, vulnerable. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be thinking about touching her. Yet, she seemed so approachable here in class. And that made her all the more appealing.

April started to gather the dirty dishes and utensils. He followed her to the sink, where he helped rinse them and place them in the dishwasher. They didn’t say a word, but worked well as a team, then returned to their table. Nonna had left them clean plates and forks as well as a small mortar of pesto to try with their ravioli. “Your grandmother is amazing. I didn’t know people could cook like this.”

“This is nothing. You should see her at the holidays.”

He rested against the table and watched her. It must have made her uncomfortable because she sighed. “Do I have something else on my face?”

He shook his head. “No, no, you look beautiful, actually.”

“What? Why are you saying that to me?”

“Because it’s true?” He gave a shrug. “You seem different tonight.”

She met his eyes and gave a short nod. “So do you. Less pushy and kinder.” She looked over to where her friend Page waited for their pasta at the stoves. “Why did you come tonight?”

Nothing like being direct. He took a step closer to her. “Here’s the thing. I’ve tried not to think about you. I’ve pushed you out of my thoughts so many times, but it’s impossible. Therefore, I give up. I came here tonight because I wanted to be near you. To spend time with you and see if this other idea I had is my worst one yet.”

She came up to him and stood toe to toe. “And what other idea would that be?”

“Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” There. He’d asked her. Maybe it wasn’t as eloquent as he’d hoped it would be, but it was out there now. And it was up to her to accept. Or reject, but he wasn’t going to think about that.

“Why?”

Okay, so that wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “Why not? Isn’t there something on that second-chance list we could cross off together?”

The friend returned to the table with their cooked ravioli. She thrust the ceramic bowl into Zach’s hands, looked at him, paused, then she looked at April. “What did I miss?”

April shook her head. “Nothing. The pasta looks fantastic.”

Zach spooned pesto on top of the ravioli, then flipped the bowl to toss them in the sauce. He spooned several ravioli on a plate and handed it to April with a fork. He did the same for Page, then he served himself. He watched April cut into a square, then place it on the fork and bring it to her mouth. She opened her lips and took a bite of it. He looked away only to find Page watching them as she chewed.

“Not bad.” Page dug into the rest of her pasta.

April wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin and exhaled. “It’s magnificent. And to think we made that from scratch.”

He leaned in closer and dropped his voice so that only she could hear him. “We make a good team. Just think of what else we could do together.”

April jerked back, crushing one of her friend’s toes. She apologized, then put her half-eaten plate of pasta down. “I need to... I’ll be right back.”

Page frowned at him. “What are your intentions, exactly?”

He wasn’t sure how much to tell Page. If April didn’t want her friend to know what they’d discussed, then it would be better for him to stay silent. He shrugged. “Trying to get to know her better.” He quickly added, “And you, too.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Something tells me that she’s the one you really want to know.” She placed her empty plate on the table and came up close to him. “If you’re playing games, she’s not interested. She’s been through too much to let a guy mess with her head. And if you hurt her, you’ll deal with me.”

“I don’t plan on hurting anyone.”

Page scowled at him, then looked in the direction April had just headed for. He all but dropped his plate of ravioli on the table, no longer hungry. He held up his hands. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.”

He paused long enough to grab his wool trench coat before leaving the kitchen and walking to the parking lot. April paced, her arms across her body, shivering in the cold. He took several long strides to reach her, then removed his coat and slid it over her shoulders. “It’s cold out here. You need a jacket.”

She pulled the lapels of the coat closer around her. “Thanks. I wasn’t thinking.”

“What were you doing?”

She looked up at him and sighed. “Why did you ask me out?”

“I told you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I figured it would be better to get to know you so I can have that time back to concentrate on my job.” He noticed the snowflakes that had frosted her curly hair. He longed to reach up and brush them away. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders together. “Could we talk about this inside where it’s warmer?”

April frowned at him for a few moments, then shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“You won’t talk to me inside?”

“No, I can’t go out with you. I don’t really like you, Mr. Harrison.” She offered a polite smile, turned on her heel and presumably headed for the kitchen.

He had no choice but to follow, his curiosity piqued. He was a likable guy, right?

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