I moved another pawn, not wanting to admit that I didn’t know what “microwaving” even involved.
“Oh, don’t you dare,” Helen scolded from where she was playing Frank at the table next to us. “If she’s been bootying you for a week, then she deserves a decent meal. Take her out to a nice dinner, and don’t skimp on the wine either.”
“Take her dancing when you’re done with dinner,” Benny added. “Girls love dancing and it’ll give you a chance to do a little reach-around and maybe slide your hand down to her butt.”
“Letch,” Edna swatted at him. “Did your wife let you grope her like that when you were dating?”
Benny laughed. “No. She smacked me across the face when I tried. Which is why we’ve been married for fifty-two years. I like a spirited gal.”
Piotr move one of his pawns. “Enzo already knows what her butt feels like.Andthe rest of her. Because kids these days are at home base within an hour of meeting each other.”
Helen rolled her eyes. “Get with the century, old man! Just because they’ve run around the plates a bunch of times doesn’t mean a slow dance with a little reach-around isn’t sexy. Enzo, Benny is right, at least about the dancing. If she’s been warming your sheets for a week, then it’s time to show her she’s more than a booty-call.”
But was she? I aimlessly moved an elephant forward as I thought.
“There hasn’t been a lot of talking between us outside of last night,” I admitted. “Sometimes we argue and that’s…exciting. She is intelligent, but doesn’t usually initiate deep conversation.”
A sick feeling swept over me that the shrew didn’t find me worthy of conversation, that she might not see me as intelligent. I’d told her when we met that she wasn’t princess material, and for the first time I wondered if she had instantly judged me as not husband material, or even boyfriend material. Did my only worth lay in my hand-axe and nothing else?
My whole life I’d been repeatedly informed of my high-value, of all I had to offer. But here, an orc kingdom, orc riches, an orc title, seemed to mean absolutely nothing.
“Dinner is the perfect time to have those deep conversations,” Frank said. “Ask her about her job. Ask if she has any pets, or what her childhood was like. Ask where she grew up and where she went to school. Find out what her favorite color is, what kind of ice cream she likes, and where she likes to vacation.”
I dug my phone out of my pocket and began to take notes, knowing I wouldn’t remember any of this if I didn’t write it down.
“Make sure you tell her a little about yourself, but then bring the conversation back to her,” Edna suggested. “So many men go on and on about their own lives and never listen to anything about the woman. Ask her questions, and listen. And remember what she says.”
I was typing furiously, wondering if advice was specific to human females, or if orc females were the same.
“What does she like to eat?” Piotr asked as he moved another pawn.
I went over our scant conversation in my mind. “She has mentioned she likes pastry. I have seen her eat breaded spicy peppers and have fed her chicken. I met her once at a restaurant that serves steak, although she was not eating anything at that time. She does drink wine. And beer.”
“Take her to a place in Little Italy, Enzo,” Dave spoke up. “Feed her the food of your people. Women love pasta, and those places usually have good wine too.”
“And good pastries,” Helen added.
I hadn’t realized Little Italy had restaurants that served orc food, and I had no idea what pasta was, but I was open to suggestions. Moving a random chess piece, I searched for dining establishments in that area on my phone and was alarmed at the huge list that appeared.
The dismay must have shown on my face because the others laughed.
“Costiera is my favorite,” Frank said. “Their pork belly porchetta is…” He kissed his fingertips.
“Dalesio’s,” Helen sighed. “I can’t get enough of their Scampi Marinara Fra Diavolo.”
Edna nodded. “Or Little Donna’s if you want something more casual. Their tavern pies are amazing.”
“I love the pappardelle at Osteria Da Amedo,” Benny chimed in. “And you can order cannoli to finish off your meal and satisfy her pastry cravings.”
“Sabatino’s is where my wife and I always go,” Piotr said. “The little woman always gets the eggplant parm, and I alternate between their homemade lasagna and the shrimp cacciatore. After dinner, you should walk down to Vaccaro’s for pastry.”
“Then dancing,” Dave insisted. “Otherwise you’ll both be in a food stupor all night and no one will be getting any action.”
“You can skip the Italian food and just go to Mobtown,” Frank suggested. “It’s mostly sandwich stuff, but they’ve got a great band and you can do swing and lindy. My knees are shot to hell, but I still go there and hobble through a few songs.”
I had no idea how to swing or lindy, but I made a note, wondering if I had time to learn with the aid of videos. How ironic that I refused to make a fool of myself on the ice-skatingrink, but I was willing to appear a total idiot dancing with the shrew.
“My kids used to go to the Power Plant to dance when they were in college, and I know it’s still open,” Benny said. “There’s a lot of flashing lights and thump so if you’re prone to seizures, might not want to risk it.”
