Chapter 405: Foppa XXIV–Uncertain

The dark rimmed, almost cumbersome looking reading glasses she wore were the don’t bug me signal that Peter had learned rather quickly. It didn’t mean that Jo was in a bad mood, but it did mean she was busy. Peter couldn’t recall having a previous girlfriend declare that she was busy, and really mean it around him. Not even the Sakic nannies he’d dated before told him they were too busy. In fact, he couldn’t think of what a girl, especially a girl who was dating him, would really need to do that made her too busy. Didn’t she know he’d take care of everything and with road trips and practices and games and everything, didn’t get to see her as often as he liked?

Alright, so Peter respected a woman’s right to be busy, women liked being busy, and having things to do and a living to earn just like men did. Fine, he liked that, it made him beam inside to know that Jo had published articles in various magazines, a regular writing column in a cultural magazine, other top name magazines interested in her fiction, and recently held an important job with her father working for the company side of his restaurant business. A woman of means and substance, now that was rare for one of them to be interested in him. Peter had to admit that, he was the one being honored here.

So agreed, Peter didn’t just tolerate her “I’m busy” glasses, her white teeth sometimes peeking over her bottom lip to gnaw, he adored it. Hell, if he couldn’t talk to her or touch her, he’d sure as hell have sexy secretary fantasy thoughts about her. But right now, well, she had those glasses on, she sipped daintily at a glass of red wine, and she poked at plump round gnocchi dumplings on her plate, swirling them in the tomato sauce, but her full attention remained directed at the notebook computer on the table. He’d tried to talk to her a couple times and he’d gotten a vacant, “Mm” in reply, or a “Peter just a second I’m almost done” and it annoyed him primarily because they were in a nice Italian restaurant, not at home on the couch or in the kitchen where she could ignore him with full aplomb.

In the middle of the restaurant, she had her computer, writing her story or her article or whatever, and she ignored him and ate and drank and people saw this. Peter ate his steak, tried to concentrate on his food, but it egged at him that maybe the other people in the restaurant, all of whom surely recognized him, were perhaps joking about how he couldn’t entertain his date. Or worse, maybe they thought she was his publicist or agent or assistant or something, and they didn’t know that this gorgeous woman was his girlfriend because she wasn’t paying any attention to him.

Peter couldn’t take it anymore. “Jo!”

“Mm,” she replied, clicking and tapping away at those keys.

He sighed and he heard someone laugh in the room and the back of his neck burned. “Come on! I’m paying for dinner too!”

“Eh?” Jo said with a slight wrinkle of her nose and a little frown. “What’s that?” Her dark eyes peeked above her frames, her hair pulled up in a twist, loose silky strands around her cheeks. Ah, Peter wanted to drag her into the bathroom right now.

“I’m paying for dinner,” Peter said now that he finally had eye contact. “Can’t we at least talk a little or something, please?”

Jo smiled. “Aw, honey I’m almost done, okay?” She went back to the screen without hesitation.

“That’s what you said before we even ordered!” Peter exclaimed.

Jo didn’t look at him. “Well I got a deadline to make.”

It didn’t deter Peter. “But we’re leaving tonight for the roadtrip, we gotta game tonight, this is the only time we have together, can’t the deadline wait until at least tomorrow? I won’t be in your hair tomorrow.”

“Honey this can’t wait.”

“Fine,” Peter said, and he didn’t care what he sounded like to her he just didn’t think it was fair that she would ignore him like this. “I’m gonna pay eighty bucks to watch you make your deadline.”

Jo sighed and grabbed her purse, opened it with a loud unzip and pulled out a couple twenties. “There’s forty for some piece of mind okay?” She plopped it back on the floor at her feet and went back to the computer.

Not the reaction Peter wanted. He didn’t want her mad at him either, so he had to be the good guy. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to mess with your work,” she stopped typing and looked at him, tight lips, soft eyes, she would hear his apology. “I just didn’t want this to be the way to end the home stand. I guess I just don’t like being ignored, heh heh, and you know everyone’s probably seeing it…”

Jo rolled her eyes. “You’re such a girl Peter you know that?”

Peter’s gut jumped. “Hey! Now I apologized there and…”

“And you can’t even take a joke,” Jo replied with a smile and he felt her foot nudge his shin under the table. “Look really, Peter I promise I got like one page left, and I’ll be done by the time we get dessert okay? You’re so sweet.”

Peter smiled back at her and watched her go back to the computer. She’d said roughly the same thing before they’d received the main course.

The fight between Dan and Alex, whatever it had been about, Patty’s lost Smittens, the divisional battle the game tonight, none of that really sunk into Peter’s thinking as he changed into his gear in the locker room. He knew he should be thinking about all that stuff, he should be worried about his job for the night and whether or not he’d get it done, but he felt rather lukewarm about it. The only thing on his mind was Josefina and the worrying way she treated him nowadays, as if he were a normal human being, as if he’d lost all his wonder for her and merely charmed her and amused her.

He didn’t know how to handle that. Getting bored of a woman, losing the spark for her, all that commonly happened for him once she ceased to surprise him. Now it seemed, he felt as if he were the one going out on a limb to keep her interested. Typing on a laptop and ignoring him at an expensive Italian restaurant on the last day he would be in town? How could she not want to soak up every last minute with him?

“You know, I don’t say this often about you, heh in fact I didn’t think I’d ever say this about you, but you look like you’re in deep thought, Foppers.”

Peter looked at Keane and raised his eyebrows. “No not too much thought.”

“Well not compared to anyone else,” Keane grinned. “What’s up?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t think I’m impressing Jo anymore.”

“Shoot at the net, he always tells you to do it more.”

Peter scowled. “No not Joe, I mean Jo.”

“Heh. Precious jewelry, try that yet?”

Peter remembered Brandi Blake telling him something similar to that. “Right.”

“See talk to Old Keaner more often, I know loads of shit.”

“Apparently,” Peter said through his teeth. Not really wanting to talk to Keane that much he looked around the locker room. He saw Hinote pensive and pale on his bench taping a stick. He saw Alex with a nasty black eye on his seat, talking quite happily with Footer. Joe talked with Hartley by the dry erase board, he looked serious and when his phone rang he held it out at arms length to Patrick.

“I don’t have time for this, Patty, answer it for me, I’m busy.”

“Eh?” Patty said taking the phone and clicking it. “Hello?” Patrick grinned. “No you got Joe’s phone, he’s too busy to talk to you… Yeah I saw him read the caller ID but that’s just how it is, I am sorry to say... Yes, really, I am not joking he can’t come to the phone… Because he’s talking with the coach… Yes I agree with you… You poor thing… Yes it is unforgivable, a beautiful, gorgeous woman like you and he doesn’t appreciate it… We all know this, well I know this… Of course I know this, oh do not be surprised my dear, I have always known this you succulent little slice of….”

“OKAY that’s enough!” Joe snapped snatching the phone out of Patrick’s hand. “Back off lover boy.” He gave Patrick the glare of death. “Hey Debbie sorry about that Coach was just…. Yes I heard what Patrick said and I’m really…. What do you mean I never talk to you like that I talk to you like that!... Debbie! What?” Joe grimaced and turned on heel, leaving the room to be better able to talk to Debbie in private.

“Hey sometimes it’s a little easier if your woman is a little disinterested, Peter, how about that?” Keane said in a low voice.

Forsberg looked at Mike and laughed.