“No, silly.”
Jordan made her monumental decision. If Amy was willing to share her life with Jordan then a remodeled house that was stuck in the nightmare stage shouldn’t stop her. “Would you like to come inside? If you promise to ignore the shambles of remodeling, I promise to not blindfold you. I can make us something to eat.”
At the mention of eating, Amy’s stomach growled loudly. She giggled. “I think that was a definite yes.”
“Okay,” Jordan said, draining the last of the martini. “Just remember the house is a work in progress.”
“Aren’t we all,” Amy said.
Pizza Sauce
Once inside the house Amy was truly awed. The grand central staircase, albeit, in need of refinishing, spoke of women in long, flowing dresses descending to be embraced in their lovers’ arms only to be carried back up the stairs in a fit of unbridled passion. The stained glass windows on the first landing were still intact and the light that filtered through made the front hall look enchanting.
“This is the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen,” Amy said reverently.
“That’s the living room,” Jordan said and pointed in its general direction. “Dining room is over there,” she pointed again. “The second floor has four bedrooms. One is Irma’s unless she’s moved into Petronella’s already. And the other is Edison’s. Two unoccupied. The third floor is Edison’s laboratory and we won’t talk about that and the attic is my studio with a bed. Someday, I’ll have a master suite.”
“I’m only going to let you get away with cutting the tour short because I’m starving,” Amy said.
“The kitchen is this way,” Jordan said.
The once grand kitchen looked like a post-earthquake scene from a 1970’s disaster movie. Amy half-expected Charlton Heston to jump out of the pantry, with a torn and blood splattered shirt, and yell, “Ladies first!” while tossing them out of the burning building.
Amy looked at the bright side. “It’s like starting out with a clean slate. This kitchen can become anything you desire.”
Jordan liked Amy’s optimism. “The stove still functions. We just have to keep to simple fare. I thought we’d have pizza. Of course, pizza isn't the only thing I can cook, you know," Jordan said, opening a box and taking out a frozen pepperoni pizza.
Amy was amazed that Jordan could find her way to the stove much less use it. The cabinets were on the floor, the counters were nothing but makeshift plywood on sawhorses and the stove was shoehorned half inside the pantry, making fully opening its door an impossibility. No wonder she was only cooking a pizza, it was the only thing she could slide in the oven. And even to accomplish that she had to hold the pizza vertically and insert it like a coin into a vending machine.
"Oh?" Amy said. "Are you a good cook? Because I have to be honest, I’m horrible. I even burn Ramen noodles."
"Frozen pizza is my specialty," Jordan said, wiping her hands on a dishrag. "But hot dogs are my culinary masterpiece."
Amy laughed.
Jordan said with an ultra-solemn expression, "I'm serious, why are you laughing? I can make hot dogs dozens of ways. Boiled, baked, fried, charred, sliced, diced, on a stick, deep-fried, battered…”
"Okay, okay, I get the picture."
"I'm like the Forrest Gump of hot dogs."
Amy said, "I wasn't laughing at your culinary skills. I’m laughing at your nose."
"My nose?"
Amy hooked one finger into the collar of Jordan's shirt and tugged her closer. "Uh huh. You have a tiny bit of pizza sauce on the end of your nose."
"Are you flirting with me?" Jordan said, tugging Amy’s hips closer to her own.
"No," Amy said. "This is flirting with you." She stood on her toes and lightly kissed Jordan. The kiss heated up and Jordan pressed into Amy, backing her into the fridge, which was sitting in the middle of the floor.
"Oomph," Amy said, conking her head against the fridge.
Jordan laughed.
Amy rubbed the back of her head. "Oh, you think it's funny?" she asked.
"I'm not laughing at that," Jordan said. "I'm laughing because now you have pizza sauce on the tip of your nose."
Amy chuckled and reached up to wipe it off, but Jordan caught her hand. "Let me get it." She kissed the end of Amy's nose, stepped back and licked her lips. "Hmm, I think it needs more garlic."
Amy stepped in to kiss Jordan again, but tripped over a stack of pots and pans on the floor. The pans crashed against the wall and Amy stumbled backwards into the far wall. She laughed, brushed herself off and took one step toward Jordan. She slipped on a cooking sheet, which acted like a skateboard, and sent her hurtling into Jordan’s arms.
Jordan laughed. "Maybe we ought to sit down. It's safer that way."
"Ya think?" Amy said. She looked around the floor for any banana peels. She didn't think she could live down another trip to the emergency room. “Who keeps their cookware on the floor?”
“People without functioning cabinets,” Jordan said.
Jordan found two chairs stacked behind the cabinets and placed them in the middle of the room facing each other. Amy sat as Jordan peeked into the stove and pronounced, "Won't be long now. It's almost done."
Jordan sat in the other chair and pulled her little rubber ball out of her pocket and squeezed it.
Amy said, "You've been practicing?"
Jordan nodded. "I can almost squeeze it the whole way now. And it's a good stress reliever, too."
Amy looked closer at the ball. She pointed at a blob of paint on the side of it. "What's that?"
Jordan smiled and held the ball up for Amy to see. "Edison painted a nipple on it. She thought it might inspire me to squeeze it."
Amy laughed. "She's very creative."
"To say the least. Now if she'd just learn to finish a project." Mr. Pip came by and rubbed on Jordan’s leg. She scratched his butt and he purred loudly.
“Can I ask you a question?” Amy said.
“Sure.”
"How can you tell the difference between a friend and a girlfriend?”
"Well," Jordan replied, "If I squeeze their boob and it feels like squeezing this rubber ball, then I know they're just a friend."
Amy laughed.
"I call it the titty test."
"I suppose this is the part where I'm supposed to let you squeeze mine?"
"Well, if you insist," Jordan said. She leaned forward in her chair and kissed Amy. As the kiss deepened, Jordan slipped to her knees between Amy's legs. Amy wrapped her arms around Jordan and placed her hands under the back of her shirt.
Jordan let go of the rubber ball and it bounced across the floor. Neither one noticed.
Jordan moved her lips to Amy's neck, nibbling down her shoulder.
Amy shivered.
"You okay?" Jordan whispered in her ear.
“Better than okay,” Amy said.
Amy wrapped her fingers around Jordan's neck and pulled her lips to hers. She sucked on Jordan's bottom lip and felt her body responding to Jordan in a way she had never experienced before. It was like her body had a mind of its own.
Jordan nibbled Amy’s neck. “You have a little sauce on your neck,” she said, nibbling down further and further.
Amy shivered.
“Whoops, there’s some on your collarbone, too.”
Amy moaned as Jordan licked and bit her collarbone.
Jordan breathed, “Wait. There’s more sauce. Let me get it.” She lifted Amy’s shirt and nipped and licked, opening her bra clasp, and letting her mouth and tongue roam over the softness of her breasts. She teased a nipple with her tongue and when Amy moaned, she sucked the hard nipple into her mouth.
Amy wrapped her legs around Jordan's waist and arched her back. She felt as if every nerve, every fiber of her being was on fire.