Chapter 16
I brewed some green tea, as he unpacked the Chinese food. “Do you prefer chopsticks or silverware, Kerrie?” He asked in a formal matter.
“I am clumsy with chopsticks, so I’ll use silverware.”
“You need a proper teacher. I’ll have to make sure you are a chopstick maestro before you leave this summer.”
The food was delicious. With a touch of envy, I watched Perry work his chopsticks like a professional. A few pelicans flew by in a V-formation. There was an abundant amount of sea gulls thinking that our meal was also their meal. To distract them, we tossed bits of food over the side of the deck. Their mid-air antics were comical. I tried to discreetly listen for the return of Mrs. O’Brien. Perry’s nonchalant manner puzzled me.
“I’m full as a tick, woman. Fine eating! Sometime when you feel up to it, I’ll take you over to Chun’s. He has the best sea bass in town. Would you care for a fortune cookie?”
He held out a bag of them. I took one. “Why do you have so many cookies, Perry? More than one fortune a day is bad luck,” I said with a giggle.
“Ah me pretty, but I have the luck of the Irish on me side,” he leered in a fake pirate voice, which sent me into a more giggles.
A voice from the stairs interrupted our carousing, “Isn’t this cozy?” Mrs. O’Brien had returned.
“What are you doing here, Melinda?” Perry asked in a frosty tone.
But her eyes were sweltering on me with a hint of maliciousness, as she ignored his question. I fleetingly thought, “Maybe I do have a third eye in my forehead.”
She cattily remarked, “I find it ironic that Perry would ‘rent’ my beach house to a famous romance novelist. Tell me, Rose Kerrigan, are you giving lessons on love to Mr. O’Brien? If you are, honey, you’re wasting your talents, because that heart of his is made of ice. If hot humid Carolina summers can’t melt it, a small time romance writer doesn’t’ stand a chance, dear.”
Pushing away from the table, Perry’s anger was barely checked. “Melinda, you are out of line. This isn’t your beach house and the fact that Miss Rosewood rents from me is none of your damn business.” He turned to me, “Kerrie, I’m sorry that you’ve been exposed to my rude ex-wife’s behavior. I enjoyed dinner, but mainly I adored being in your company.”
I blushed in surprise at his comment about my company and when Mrs. O’Brien gave a sly laugh, I blushed even more.
Perry’s eyes narrowed, as he turned to his ex-wife, “Melinda, whatever business you have with me will be dealt with at the boathouse.”
I had been quiet long enough, “Parting is such sweet sorrow…” I quoted from Shakespeare.
Perry stopped at the top step and gave me a bright smile. I was breathless, as he retorted, “Yes and the poison doesn’t help, does it Julie?”
Mrs. O’Brien corrected him, “You mean Juliet, Perry!”
“I was modernizing Shakespeare, Melinda. Julie would be Juliet’s hip name in this day and age.” They continued arguing as they walked down the stairs.
“I am clumsy with chopsticks, so I’ll use silverware.”
“You need a proper teacher. I’ll have to make sure you are a chopstick maestro before you leave this summer.”
The food was delicious. With a touch of envy, I watched Perry work his chopsticks like a professional. A few pelicans flew by in a V-formation. There was an abundant amount of sea gulls thinking that our meal was also their meal. To distract them, we tossed bits of food over the side of the deck. Their mid-air antics were comical. I tried to discreetly listen for the return of Mrs. O’Brien. Perry’s nonchalant manner puzzled me.
“I’m full as a tick, woman. Fine eating! Sometime when you feel up to it, I’ll take you over to Chun’s. He has the best sea bass in town. Would you care for a fortune cookie?”
He held out a bag of them. I took one. “Why do you have so many cookies, Perry? More than one fortune a day is bad luck,” I said with a giggle.
“Ah me pretty, but I have the luck of the Irish on me side,” he leered in a fake pirate voice, which sent me into a more giggles.
A voice from the stairs interrupted our carousing, “Isn’t this cozy?” Mrs. O’Brien had returned.
“What are you doing here, Melinda?” Perry asked in a frosty tone.
But her eyes were sweltering on me with a hint of maliciousness, as she ignored his question. I fleetingly thought, “Maybe I do have a third eye in my forehead.”
She cattily remarked, “I find it ironic that Perry would ‘rent’ my beach house to a famous romance novelist. Tell me, Rose Kerrigan, are you giving lessons on love to Mr. O’Brien? If you are, honey, you’re wasting your talents, because that heart of his is made of ice. If hot humid Carolina summers can’t melt it, a small time romance writer doesn’t’ stand a chance, dear.”
Pushing away from the table, Perry’s anger was barely checked. “Melinda, you are out of line. This isn’t your beach house and the fact that Miss Rosewood rents from me is none of your damn business.” He turned to me, “Kerrie, I’m sorry that you’ve been exposed to my rude ex-wife’s behavior. I enjoyed dinner, but mainly I adored being in your company.”
I blushed in surprise at his comment about my company and when Mrs. O’Brien gave a sly laugh, I blushed even more.
Perry’s eyes narrowed, as he turned to his ex-wife, “Melinda, whatever business you have with me will be dealt with at the boathouse.”
I had been quiet long enough, “Parting is such sweet sorrow…” I quoted from Shakespeare.
Perry stopped at the top step and gave me a bright smile. I was breathless, as he retorted, “Yes and the poison doesn’t help, does it Julie?”
Mrs. O’Brien corrected him, “You mean Juliet, Perry!”
“I was modernizing Shakespeare, Melinda. Julie would be Juliet’s hip name in this day and age.” They continued arguing as they walked down the stairs.
penned by Painter Lady at 9:41 PM
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