Joe belongs to Janet E. and I received no compensation for this story.
The Interview
It was Wednesday night. I was sitting in my chair in the living room watching Major Crimes on TV. I like Major Crimes. My husband, Kenneth, had gone down to his shop right after supper, to put a coat of wax on one of the corvettes.
Lucy and Molly, our resident cats, were happily keeping me company. Suddenly they jumped and ran off down the hall. Lucy was actually growling.
What’s that about? I wondered. I felt like I was being watched, and swung around to look toward the kitchen.
There stood a tall young man with dark hair and dark eyes. Something about him shouted Italian. He turned a slow circle, checking out my kitchen, as he took in his surroundings.
“Is this your place?” He didn’t seem fazed to find himself in my house. He opened the refrigerator. “Got anything to eat?” he asked.
“Leftover Chicken Fried Steak.”
“No. I meant real food. Like a meatball sub.”
“No subs, and no pizza and no beer either.” I replied.
“Bummer.” He walked over and slouched down in my husband’s recliner. “So who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Mary, Mary Clayton.”
He started to introduce himself, but I stopped him.
“I know who you are. You’re Joe Morelli.” I smiled and held out my hand.
“So?” He said, glancing around the room and ignoring my effort to shake hands. “Have we met before?”
“Sort of. I’m a fan of Janet’s.” I replied. “Hey, Joe. May I ask you something?”
“Sure cupcake.” He smiled, relaxing back in the chair. “I don’t seem to need to be anywhere else right now.”
“Don’t call me cupcake! Do I look like a cupcake?” I didn’t care for his tone.
“Well kinda around the middle.”
“Humph! You don’t know the difference between a muffin top and a cupcake. How did you ever get to be a main character in a romance series?”
His mouth fell open, but his brain must not have been sending any signals as he didn’t make a sound.
“You are about the most unromantic man I have ever met.” I continued my lecture, shaking my finger at him.
“Wait!” he said. “I’m romantic. I asked Stephanie to move in with me, didn’t I?”
“Not buying it Joe. When’s the last time you took her out on a dress up date?”
“Uh.”
“How about a movie?” I could see he was sweating.
“Uh.”
“Roses? Candy? A Valentine?”
“Uh. How about sex?” he asked, suddenly grinning.
I must have look startled.
“Wait, not you!” he shouted. “I mean. Doesn’t sex count? It’s romantic, right?” His face was beet red.
I rolled my eyes. “Well there’s that.”
Some familiar intro music started playing, and l looked back at the TV. I had missed the end of Major Crimes and now Seal Team Six had just come on.
“Hey Joe. Let’s change the subject. Would you humor me for a bit?”
“Sure if you get off my case.”
“Watch this show with me. I’ll even pop some corn.”
“What’s it about?” He asked, as he followed me into the kitchen.
“It’s Seal Team Six. Out of 100, one is a warrior and he will take us home.”
“OK. I get it now. You’re a Ranger fan.” He said looking resigned.
“Reality check Joe. About 70% of Janet’s fans are Ranger fans.” I took a large bowl from the cabinet.
“That doesn’t bode well for me does it?” he looked like he had eaten one of my sour gum balls.
“Don’t take it to heart. After all, everything depends on Janet, right?”
He watched me pull a pan out and pour oil in it and set it on the stove. After the oil got hot I poured in the popcorn and covered the pan. When the popcorn was ready, he carried the overflowing bowl back to the living room and sat down on the sofa.
“Gee, this is a lot better than ink and paper popcorn.” He said, stuffing his face. “So you think I messed up my chance at romance with Stephanie?”
“Well, there were times.” I replied, grabbing a handful of the popcorn. “Like when you handcuffed her to the shower rod, who did you think was going to rescue her?”
“I didn’t think about that, actually, I sort of leave that up to Janet.” He mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn.
“What about before that? Some of the fans were concerned about the Choo Choo incident, and the Tasty Pastry Incident.”
Joe winced. “Didn’t help my image did it?”
“Well, I’m not one to criticize, but, if she had kicked the shit out of you when she was six and slapped the crap out of you when she was sixteen it would have gone along with running you down with the Buick.”
He stared down at the empty bowl in his lap.
“Joe, you’re not a bad guy. Heavens, my son is a cop. I like cops. You just need someone a little calmer.”
“So what do you think?” He asked.
“It’s like I Love Lucy meets Beauty and the Beast. You and Stephanie are straight out of I Love Lucy.”
“OK. I can see that.” Then he frowned at me. “Wait a minute, isn’t Ricky Cuban?”
I shrugged “Not relevant Joe. It’s the big picture.” I changed the subject. “The nickname doesn’t exactly help you either.”
“Huh?”
“The Italian Stallion! Really?”
He grinned.
“When I hear that nickname, it reminds me of Rocky. You know, where that guy wakes up with a horse head in his bed.” I said.
Joe groaned, clutching his hair. “Augh! No Lady! That’s not Rocky! That’s the Godfather!”
“Whatever! It’s an Italian movie!”
He looked up at me and grinned. “So why don’t you give me a nickname!”
I shook my head. “Sorry I got nothing.”
His cell phone buzzed and he answered it. “Okay.” he said and hung up. “Uh, sorry Mary Clayton. That was the boss. She needs me.” He jumped up then paused. “Can we continue this conversation next week?”
“Sure Joe, you can come back. Just don’t come on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?”
“That’s Ranger’s night.”
“Shit.” he said, stomping toward the door.
Mary Clayton Writing 