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Tap–tap–taptap–taptaptaptaptap-taptap… Jimmy Jr. poked at his ravioli with an unconscious rhythmic beat. His eyes were fixated on nothing in particular in the vicinity of the t-shirt shelves on the wall across from him. His lips had pressed themselves into a frown of concentration as though his every brain cell was focused on a singular task of profound and grueling contemplation.
Ollie's blue eyes lit up as he recognized the sequence of taps as a once popular melody. “Ooh ooh! I know that one! I know that one!” Ollie shouted. He raised his hand, nearly rising out of his seat, as if still in the habit of trying to summon the attention of an exhausted Ms. Labonz.
Behind the bar of Jimmy Pesto's restaurant, Jimmy Sr. inhaled with the look of a man enduring waterboarding, while Trev snickered.
“Me too!” Andy's jubilant cry right on the heels of Ollie's exclamation caused the handful of pre-dinner patrons who hadn't already paused their meal from the ruckus to turn their heads and stare at the three boys who sat lined up along the bar with their backpacks resting against their stools. Neither the twins nor Jimmy Junior seemed to even notice the full attention of the restaurant resting upon them.
“Boys, boys, what did I say about inside voices?” Jimmy Sr.’s blue green eyes also rested on his sons. He folded his arms across his chest, and his scowl deepened as he awaited their response.
Andy templed his index fingers together and pressed them against his chin and lower lip. He tapped his thumbs together as he tried to remember. “That nobody on Noah's Ark could have heard each other over all the animal noises and farting without shouting?”
Ollie adopted the same pose as he formulated his own answer. “That the whole restaurant doesn't need to know if we took a second flush?”
Their father gave the sigh of a man sentenced to endlessly lugging a heavy boulder up a steep slope. “No. Eh… Ollie was almost on the right track, I guess… Remember. When we're in the restaurant, we use our indoor voices any time we speak.”
The twins chuckled to themselves. Ollie slapped his thigh. “Good one, Dad!”
A vein in Jimmy Pesto's forehead began to throb. “Still not a joke, guys.” He turned towards his eldest son with an expectant look. “Junior, can you please stop encouraging them?”
Jimmy Jr. startled and nearly fell off his stool as he emerged from his revelry to find his father staring at him with an annoyed glare. “Huh? Did you say something?”
The elder Pesto gave a snort as he tossed a bar towel over his shoulder. “C'mon, Junior. Where's your head at today?”
Jimmy Jr. groaned like a bouncy castle burdened under the weight of a dozen hyperactive kids. His head drooped. “It's almost Tina's birthday again, and I'm trying to think of the perfect gift. Last year I gave her her first kiss. How do I top that?!” Jimmy Jr.’s scorchingly pink cheeks looked ready to fry one of the frozen, prefabricated meat patties that passed for chicken parmigiana in Jimmy's restaurant.
His father scoffed. “Ugh. That's why you never set the bar too high with a woman. All that expectation is just too much work. You'll run yourself ragged trying to impress her all the time.”
“I'm not trying to impress her all the time… I mean, not really. I just want to give her something she'll really like. Last year I knew exactly what she wanted, and I didn't even have to buy anything! This year it's way harder because she's not telling me what to do!” Jimmy Jr.’s head tipped backwards, and he groaned with all of the considerable drama that a boy his age could muster.
The sight of him reminded Jimmy Sr. of stories about turkeys who drowned because they wouldn't stop looking up at the rain with their mouths open. He clenched his eyes shut and rubbed them to clear away the persistent image.
“What does she like?” Trev's voice broke into the conversation, a bright and reasonable beam of hope.
“She likes lots of stuff… like really, lots. She likes horses, and she has figures and posters of them in her room. There's even a porcelain one named Horselain.” He snorted an appreciative laugh at the name. “She loves to write… like entire stories. She loves Boys4Now music, and she loves barrettes for her hair. But that stuff's all too obvious. I don't want my present to be just like something someone else got her. And Tina's been really into feeling more mature lately.”
“Okay… so you want something personal and nothing too kiddy.” Trev scratched his chin and looked inwards as he considered the matter further.
“We got Louise a mug that says: ‘The Tears of My Enemies’! And we bundled it with fancy hot chocolate!” the twins offered with unrelenting exuberance. Ollie's chest puffed out with pride as he added, “It was a big hit!” Andy nodded and couldn't resist adding, “I found it! I did.” Inside voices had never been an option.
Jimmy Jr. smiled at his little brothers and ruffled their hair while they tried to wave his hands away. “Uh… thanks, guys, but this is kinda different than you giving a present to Louise.”
“Why? Is it because you're on close personal terms with all of Tina's mouth parts?” Andy looked unimpressed but curious, while behind him Ollie mimed a couple making out with his tongue wagging wildly in the air.
Jimmy Junior rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I mean that's part of it.”
“We got to name all of Louise's cavities!” Andy offered.
Ollie made a horrifying mental connection. “Wait! Doesn't Dr. Yap know everybody's mouth parts? He even fixes them!”
As it so often did, the thought leapt from the brain of one twin to the other. “Oh no!” Andy cried out clutching his head. “That means we all have to marry Dr. Yap!”
Ollie and Andy began to wail. “I don't want to be the bride of Yap. I don't love him!” Ollie sobbed.
Trev and Jimmy Junior hurried to quell the twins’ loud cries of distress before they could drive away any customers. For once Jimmy Sr. was too lost in thought to register the situation.
Out of nowhere, a memory had smashed into Jimmy Sr. He remembered watching Tina chase Jimmy Junior down the street one time to ask him out on a date at 5 am the next morning. Later Junior told him how Tina had recently discovered espresso.
Jimmy Pesto planted his hands on his hips as he offered a confident suggestion. “So, why don't you stick with the theme of firsts this year? She wants to feel mature. How ‘bout you give her her first French Press? It's sensual. It's ritual. It's something that'll always make her think of you from now on.”
“Ooooooooo!” Trev exclaimed as though this were a wholly unexpected and surprisingly excellent suggestion on the part of his boss.
Jimmy Jr.’s eyes went round. He blinked at his father and their bartender. He wasn't sure what they were suggesting or what a French press even was. He’d never heard of any dance moves by that name, so it clearly wasn't that. It sounded like it could have been a wrestling move. Maybe it was something Zeke would recognize, but he'd never heard Zeke mention it or learned it at wrestling practice.
French press. French press. A French kiss was when people pressed their lips and tongues together. He knew that one. He'd given Tina that last year, and plenty of times since then. Was a French press some kind of next step up from that? The tops of his ears burned. What did you press together for this one?
In his mind's eye, Jimmy Junior saw himself strolling down a misty Parisian back alley to the sounds of an accordion playing a sinister and raunchy sounding rendition of La Vie en Rose. Jimmy Jr.’s footfalls echoed off the cobblestones, as he strolled through the menacing emptiness. The mist swirled around his ankles. Suddenly, there she was up ahead, waiting in the darkness.
Tina lounged with her back against the wall of a building. One of her legs was bent with her foot planted on the wall behind her. She used that leg to push herself away from the wall and directly into Jimmy Junior's path. Her black skirts swirled around her skinny legs as she moved, and Jimmy Jr. struggled to tear his eyes away from the way her black and white striped shirt hugged and accentuated her curves.
The golden barrette that held back her hair on one side glittered as she tilted her beret further down her forehead. Her eyes flashed from behind her glasses.
“Are you lost, Mon Chéri?” Tina challenged him. “These streets aren't meant for children. In these alleys we French Press… like a lot. Maybe you should go home, no? And by that I mean you should really go home.”
Jimmy Jr.’s back straightened and he tossed his head with careful nonchalance. “I'm not some little kid. I…I French press all the time. Why don't you try me and see?”
Tina placed one hand on Jimmy Jr.’s chest and she backed him against the wall with an aggressive step that matched the sudden change in the music and sent thrills up his spine.
“Then show me you can keep up.” Tina brought her face within a silken breath of his, and he felt himself falling into the depths of her ebony eyes. She grasped his hair, and she tugged, pulling him into a deep dip in her arms.
With that, their dance battle began. His test was La Danse Apache… a violent and erotic spectacle staged across the Parisian back streets that inspired it. Tina led him through his paces, testing him with Cabaret style slaps and tossing him around between sensual poses and caresses. She spun him out by one arm, and he fell dramatically to the ground… only for Tina to bend over him with a perfectly complimentary body line and gaze into his eyes with a feigned cruelty that made him shiver… but not from fear. Something oh, so far from fear.
By the time Tina was satisfied, Jimmy Jr. was on his knees before her. His chest heaved as he panted for breath and moaned softly. His limbs shook from exhaustion. He was a wreck of a man.
Also breathless, Tina grinned at him like a cat with a cornered mouse. She drew his unresisting form into her arms. Then she leaned in with hooded eyes and luscious lips, as though about to kiss him. Her voice was decisive and filled with indecent promise as she declared, “And now we French press…”
With no clue what to envision next, Jimmy Jr.’s fantasy faded to an enticing black screen.
Was this the type of maneuver that the older teens looked up in books that were only spoken of in whispers and perused from the library and bookstore aisles that most younger teens still avoided from embarrassment? Well, Tina probably wouldn't be too embarrassed, he thought. Had his father just suggested something dirty? But would Trev really look so approving if he had?
Jimmy Jr. leaned towards his father. His face filled with earnest distress and he spoke in a hushed voice. “I don't know if Tina and I are ready to take our relationship to the French press level yet… We're still really young.”
“Wha-?” Jimmy Sr.’s expression of befuddlement looked painful. He shook himself, and the boys could see him counting silently to ten before he asked in a curious voice. “What exactly do you think a French press is, Pepper?”
Now Jimmy Junior knew he was wrong. He flushed further in humiliation. “I dunno. It sounds like it's a step up from a French kiss…” His voice remained low as he muttered the words, hoping they'd die on the air before reaching his father's ears.”
Jimmy Pesto laughed. He couldn't help himself. Sensing his son's embarrassment, he struggled to restrain his mirth. “Sorry. Sorry. That's… uh… that makes sense. Good try! It's… uh… not that though.”
“What's a French press?” Ollie cocked his head to one side as he waited for someone to explain. Andy shrugged.
“Eh… it's a special pot for making coffee.” Trev answered. “You put in the coffee and hot water. After a few minutes you plunge it and pour. It keeps the volatile oils, so it's popular with lots of coffee lovers. I use ‘em behind the bar for making certain cocktails.”
“Ohhhhhhh!” Andy and Ollie nodded at Trev's elucidation.
Meanwhile, Jimmy Jr. seemed to be intently processing this new information. “I dunno. Tina's mom sold their espresso machine to get Tina off caffeine…”
“I thought it was to send Gene to baseball camp,” Andy interjected.
“What? Did nobody in that family ever hear of decaf?” Jimmy cackled to himself. “Zoom!”
“I know a barista who can hook us up with some primo brews at a discount if you want,” Trev told Jimmy Jr. “Even some Swiss process decaf that'll blow Tina's socks off. Bet we could find a little book with some fancy recipes she could make with her new press too. Think about it.”
A smile bent Jimmy Jr.’s lips as the possibilities wormed their way into his thoughts. “Thanks,” he said, looking at both Trev and Jimmy Sr.
Jimmy Sr. planted one hand on his hip. “When's her party, anyhow?”
Now that his angst about what to give Tina was easing, Jimmy Junior's appetite made itself known. His stomach grumbled at him, and he took a bite of his now tepid sausage ravioli. “She's not doing a party this year, but we have a date that afternoon to get a slice of cake at a new bakery named Takes the Cake.” He covered his pasta and sauce with a heavy snowfall of parmesan from a rounded glass shaker.
Jimmy Sr. snorted. “Sounds like she just found a way to weasel extra cake out of you.”
Jimmy Jr. shrugged and paused while trying to chew a huge mouthful of food before continuing. “She offered to include me with her family for cake… but that felt a little weird.”
Jimmy Sr. made a noise like he'd stepped in dog poop at the image of his son celebrating like he was a member of Bob's stupid family. His jaw clenched, and he wiped the counter hard enough to make a squeak. “Eh. You're probably better off going to a real bakery anyway. Knowing Bob, he'd put some weird, fancy vegetable or spice in the cake. He'd call it a Happ-Brie Birthday Cake and frost it with cheese, or somethin’. You'd come home with a bellyache and be up all night.”
“Uh-huh,” Jimmy Jr. replied, but his vacant gaze and smile showed his thoughts had already turned to his birthday date with Tina… probably imagining her reaction or wondering what kind of cake they'd order.
The answer, as it turned out, was pink champagne cake, which Tina stared at with longing the moment she spotted it in the case. “Doesn't it sound sophisticated and romantic?” Her voice echoed from the dreamy chambers of her imagination.
She wore a new red peplum blouse overgrown with the white silhouettes of flower clusters with black accents. Her short puffed sleeves flared slightly as she pointed at the cake. Jimmy Junior had trouble tearing his eyes away from the fitted waist and the wide scoop of the v-neckline, or maybe it had something to do with the curves underneath. She'd paired it with her favorite denim skirt and some black high-tops. It was pretty but casual and practical for walking around town together.
“I was kinda leaning towards the Mocha Choca Latte Ya Ya cake,” Jimmy Jr. began with his usual bluntness. He caught Tina's momentary flinch of disappointment. “But the pink champagne sounds better,” he rushed to reassure her. Cake was cake. It was all good in his opinion. He could get the chocolate next time… or maybe he'd get one for the road. He was pretty hungry after dance practice earlier.
They took their slices to a little table on the sidewalk. A warm spring breeze ruffled their hair as they took seats facing each other. They raised their black plastic forks in unison. Then they used them to slice into the blush pink colored cake and buttercream. The tines cut through the fluffy crumb with no resistance, and Tina brought the first bite to her lips.
Jimmy Jr. watched as she took her first mouthful.
Her face immediately transformed into the picture of bliss as she tasted the sweet, moist cake. Vanilla and citrusy notes of pink champagne burst across her tongue. The texture was as soft and light as a glass of bubbles.
Somehow her reaction made the cake on his tongue taste even better. It tasted like success, and something about sitting at the little outside table eating their ‘sophisticated' cake reminded him of his daydream about Tina in Paris. He imagined for a moment that he and Tina were adults on a trip to Paris eating at a bakery just like this, and he liked how it made him feel.
Jimmy Jr. placed a dark blue gift bag with silver stars on the table beside Tina's plate. Silver tissue paper stood in triangular points inside the bag, and curled ribbons of navy blue dangled from the braided silver cords that served as handles.
He regarded Tina through blue eyes as warm as the May sun as he smiled at her. “Happy Birthday, Tina!”
“Awwww. Jimmy Junior! Thank you.” Tina's monotone voice somehow still managed to gush like a melted gummy candy, enveloping Jimmy Jr. in a wave of warm sweetness.
“Go on. Open it,” he encouraged.
Tina pulled the tissue paper away to reveal the contents of the bag. A sprinkling of colorful hand cut confetti fell away.
“Uh. That confetti is from Andy and Ollie. They said to tell you that's a birthday card from them.”
“They do know what a card is, right?”
Jimmy Jr. shrugged. “I think so, but I don't think they really care about definitions. They said it's the thought that counts.”
“Well, tell them I said-” Tina's eyes fell upon the contents of the gift bag. “Holy freaking crap! Jimmy Junior, I thought it was just one present.”
“It is. It all goes together to make a set,” Jimmy Junior explained. “He fished around in the bag and handed her a folded piece of construction paper. “You should start with the card… which is actually a card.”
Tina took the card from him. The front was covered with magazine clippings and photos that he'd cut out and glued into a collage. The finished image had a cake that said Happy Birthday at its center, and it was surrounded by flowers, cups of coffee, coffee beans, croissants, baguettes, and the Eiffel Tower. She opened the card and read the note printed in Jimmy Jr.'s handwriting out loud. “It's hard to beat a first kiss, but I hope you like this almost as much. Happy Birthday! Heart, Jimmy Jr.”
His toes wiggled in his sneakers, filled with nervous energy while he waited for Tina's reactions. He looked away so she wouldn't catch him staring at her while she cooed and unconsciously traced the heart he'd drawn.
Tina reached into the bag and lifted the box containing the French press first. She studied the photo on the box of the coffee maker with a full glass carafe. A framework of chromed steel with a black plastic handle attached to it cradled the carafe. It had a shiny domed lid and a metal filter that plunged downwards when you pressed the little ball on the top. The device looked sleek, simple, and elegant. “Woah. I don't think I've ever seen a coffee maker look so pretty before,” Tina breathed.
The side of the box showed a demonstration of the basic steps to use the unit, and Tina's eyes flitted back and forth as she quickly skimmed the text and photos on the box.
“You seemed to really like coffee when you tried it awhile back, but I remember you had to cut back on the caffeine… so I thought you might enjoy this solution.” Unable to contain his excitement, Jimmy Jr. leaned forward and reached into the bag to explain his intentions.
His fingers closed upon a couple of small bags of coffee in the gift bag. “These are a special kind of decaf that's supposed to be really good. I haven't tried them, but Trev's barista friend recommended a few brands and flavors and helped hook me up with some samplers for you to try. We have a gourmet blend, and a French roast, and this one's chocolate flavored-” He piled the little packages of coffee up around her as he spoke.
“And there's a mug.” He pulled out a box with a picture of a pretty mug with pale blue and green glazes dripping down over a glossy brownish black base.
“It's just big enough that you can add stuff to your coffee. Like-” He pulled out a slim book with a cover photo of three French presses filled with different beverages and sitting beside a fancy cup of coffee. The coffee was topped with whipped cream, a drizzle of a pumpkin colored syrup, and a sprinkle of cinnamon or maybe cocoa. The title read The Tao of French Press. “...some of the recipes in here.”
Tina took the book from him and flipped through the table of contents. The book had chapters covering things like how to use a French Press, cold brewing coffee, teas, recipes for flavored syrups and coffees, and how to froth milk in a French Press. Her eyes widened behind her glasses, and her eyebrows shot upwards. One thing Tina had quickly learned about Jimmy Jr. was that he wasn't normally of the 'likes to spend money' mindset when it came to presents and dates. “This is amazing, but how much did you spend on all this?”
“Um... Less than our pie date. It's okay. Last year's present didn't cost me anything, so I wanted to go a little extra this year. Besides, Trev's friend helped me with her wholesale discount. Oh. And she wrote the book too. Cassia Jones.” He pointed at the name printed near the bottom of the cover.
Tina nodded. A big discount explained a few things.
“Also, I went with a French press the right size to make a single mug of coffee at a time… so if you decide to ever go back to coffee with caffeine it would be harder to overdo it. I know you said you didn't like how too much coffee made you feel after a while. Cassia says that fixing a delicious cup of coffee can be a grounding and tranquil experience. She has a whole chapter on it, so maybe you could make that one cup a day feel special.”
“Wow. You really put a lot of thought into this.” Tina sounded impressed.
Jimmy Junior considered playing it cool, but he decided against it. “Actually, if you like it, I thought maybe we could try some of the recipes together. I mean, I've never had coffee, but some of them look pretty good. There's a Black Forest chocolate cherry one that seems perfect for Valentine's Day…” He let the suggestion hang in the air between them.
Tina blinked a few times as though she were seeing double. Then she simply stared at him. “Are you asking me for a Valentine's date? Valentine's Day is almost a year away.”
Jimmy Junior shrugged. “It's not like we don't have dates scheduled even further ahead of time. Didn't you start dropping hints about prom three years in advance?” He took a bite of cake to stop himself from laughing as Tina struggled to find a response, and she finally threatened him with a bite of cake poised on the tines of a fork she'd drawn back like a catapult.
Tina decided she'd rather not waste even one mouthful of her fancy cake. With a sigh she raised the fork to her mouth and ate her weapon. A smile tugged at her lips again, and her dark eyes met his. “Thank you, Jimmy Junior. It's been a really great birthday.”
“Uh. You're welcome,” he answered. His ears went pink. He turned the conversation back towards normal daily chatter and stories. “So, did I tell you what happened when I was streaming movies at my Dad's place last night?” His fork dipped back into his cake. “I found some old movie named Boogie Nights. I thought it might be like an old disco movie–”