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Rose’d never thought twice about walking home alone after one of her night classes. The path was always well trafficked and lit, and she was sure she could fend for herself in a pinch. Maybe it was damage from going on several dates with a cop, or maybe it was the way that off-putting man in class had looked at her while they were finishing up.
He'd always been quiet and withdrawn but for some reason he'd decided to cut into her conversation with Cheryl and ask if she liked music and if she was free on Saturday. When she'd told him she was taking her parents to dinner, he'd looked at her with a cold, morose gaze and said that if she was going to lie, she could at least make it something better than that.
The kicker was that it was true, and now she wished she'd lied.
Cars went past pretty frequently but not frequently enough. If that guy was set on it, he could grab her and do lord knows what to her without anyone being any wiser.
God, what was that guy's name? She'd never bothered noting it because he was such a dull person. That sure would play well in the incident report, huh? Yeah, she knew her attacker, just not his name, or any details about his appearance because she hadn't really bothered looking at his face either, dang it!
She spotted a phone booth at the next corner and knew she had to make a choice – keep going or stop to make a call. If she stopped, she'd trap herself in that booth until someone came along. But then again, she wasn't even halfway home yet and in the booth she'd at least have a barrier between herself and whatever was out there.
She kept going over the choice all the way up to the booth, but despite that it felt like a complete spur of the moment decision. Once she stood there with the receiver in hand, she suddenly couldn’t remember a single phone number. Well, no, that wasn’t true. Rather than wasting time wracking her brain or second guessing, she plugged that number in and turned around to face the door. The short metallic cord pressed against her neck, cold and vaguely damp.
“LAPD Homicide, how can I help you?”
Frank Columbo had given her his work number, because he was always 'running around town for one reason or another. The guys at the office will be able to tell you where I’m at.’
The nazaly man gave her the number to some home of some girl Columbo was supposed to be questioning. Rose hung up and shoved some more coins into the slot before ringing the second number. Really, if someone was going to try get at her they were wasting the opportunity.
“Ms Gates can’t come to the phone right now.”
“It’s not her I want,” Rose cut in quickly before the snippy man on the other end had the chance to hang up. “Is Fra- You got Columbo there?”
After a moment of withering silence, she could hear the man turn to talk to someone else, then, finally she heard the familiar, smoky voice. "Yuh? This is Columbo." It shocked her how relieved she was to hear it.
“It’s Rose…” She paused, because it was hard to put her vague fears into words.
"Heya," he said, voice flooding with warmth. It sounded like he was pressing the receiver closer to his face. "What's going on? How come you're calling this late?" He said nothing about her calling him while he was working, as though that was acceptable to do to someone you’d only known for a couple of months.
“I… Remember how I told you about that evening class I’ve been taking?”
“Yeah, electronic basics, right? Of course I remember.”
“What d’you mean ‘of course?’” She couldn’t help herself. “I couldn’t have mentioned it more than once.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, it just caught my attention is all. What about the class?”
“Well, uhm…” She coughed. “There’s this man there. He’s been giving me the creeps since the start, but tonight… You know this is your fault, really. You’re the one who’s been freaking me out with your stories from work.”
“Right, right,” he said. He sounded so casual that Rose almost thought he’d missed the implications of what she’d just told him. “You aren’t at home yet, are you? Tell me where you’re at and I’ll come getcha. We can talk about this more then.”
“The phone booth at the corner of Waters and Madison Street.”
"I'll be there in ten minutes.” His voice was steady and firm. “Say, remember that lemon cake you made the other day?"
Rose took the phone off her ear to stare at it, in lieu of staring at the man himself. “Of course. Why?”
"Well, I've been going on about it to Ms Gates here and I promised to ask you for the recipe, but now that I've got you here, you might as well tell it to her yourself.”
Rose felt herself smile, despite everything. This guy kept surprising her with how sharp he was, and how unassuming he could be while steering conversations to the end he wanted. “Hand her the phone and I’ll tell her. But she’d better have somewhere to write it, ‘cause it ain’t simple.”
Frank chuckled softly, before handing the phone to a weary sounding girl. Rose wondered what had happened to her to get a homicide investigator to her house, but had enough sense not to ask. She talked her through the recipe to the best her memory would let her, knowing that it didn’t really matter to either of them. Frank had just linked two scared persons together in order to allow them to calm eachother down.
Oh, he’d had her figured out from the moment they met – noticing she could be easily distracted by other people’s problems and an opportunity to tell others what to do. Not that he was special for noticing – anyone who talked to her for more than a few minutes did – but unlike other men he hadn’t been scared off by it. It hadn’t stopped catching her off guard yet.
Something slammed into the door hard enough to rattle the glass. Rose shrieked, brandiging the receiver like a weapon as she turned.
It wasn’t the guy from class, unless he'd grown a beard real fast. Apparently she’d managed to scare him right back, from the way he’d raised his hands.
“Do you mind!?” she snapped, terror flowing over into indignant anger. “I am on the phone!”
The man mumbled an apology and backed away.
“Miss!? Ms Rose, are you alright?” The sweet girl sounded genuinely worried for her.
“Yes, yes, I am fine. Just some impatient son of a something.” She exhaled sharply to settle herself. “Gosh, sorry for that scream. I-”
“LAPD! Step away from the phone booth, Mister!”
Rose didn’t recognize the voice at first, because she’d never heard him yell like that. The sound of a screaming engine approached. Rose looked up and quickly recognized the pair of uneven headlights of Frank’s gray car.
The car had barely come to a stop before Frank stepped out of it. He made straight for the man waiting outside the phone booth, hand on his back as though reaching for a gun Rose knew for a fact he wasn’t carrying.
“That’s him now.” Rose just barely had the presence of mind to end the call properly. “Thank you for talking to me, and good luck with… everything.” She stepped out of the booth just in time to stop Frank from accosting the poor rude man, who looked close to keeling over at this point. “That ain’t him. He just wants the phone.”
“Oh…” Frank dropped the intimidation act like a hot lead potato. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Sir. It’s just, I heard a scream and I assumed…” He smiled awkwardly. “I think that phone’s open now, if you still want it.”
“I’ve forgotten who I was calling,” the man grumbled. “Can I go, officer?” He put some real sass on that final world, but Rose supposed that was fair.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course. Again, I’m real sorry for flying off the handle like that.”
The man lumbered off, but before rounding the corner, he shot a final barb over his shoulder. “She’s a live one. Good luck.”
Rose clicked her tongue, sending the stranger a sour look. She felt a hand land on her arm, drawing her attention. "You're alright, Rose?" Frank said, calm and gentle.
"I'm alright," she said on the exhale. She turned to look into his eyes. "Hey."
Frank smiled, eyes filling with a warm mirth. "Hiya…" He steered her towards the car with a slight flex of his fingers. “Did you do something different to your hair? It’s nice.” He slid right into casual conversation, easy as.
Rose's hand flew to the crown braid updo, suddenly worried that it’d fallen out of place. “Figured I oughta get it out of the way if I’m gonna be working with electronics.”
Frank nodded. “Yeah, you gotta watch out for that. Electricity, it’s scary business.” He opened the door for her and jogged around to the driver’s side.
Rose sunk into the worn seat. She hadn't realized just how tense she'd been until she felt herself relax. “It ain’t scary. Not if you know what you’re doing,” she said as Frank hopped in behind the wheel.
"Well, gee, how many lessons do you gotta get before you know what you're doing?" he said, making a U-turn without as much as a glance over his shoulder.
"It'd better be ten, 'cause that's what I'm paying them for." Rose crossed her arms.
He chuckled.
After a moment's silence, Rose rubbed her forehead roughly. "Look, I know how silly I must look, calling you out here like this." In the end, the only threat to her had been a rude phone hog.
Frank shook his head emphatically. “No, I’m glad you called me. I really am. You gotta trust your gut when it tells you something.” He paused. "This guy you mentioned, what's he been doing?”
Rose shook her head. “Nothing, really. I told you it’s silly.”
He said nothing, waiting.
“I’ve noticed him staring at me. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something off about him. He’s barely said two words to me and suddenly today he asked me what I was doing Saturday and accused me of lying when I said I was busy.”
“Uh-huh…” He plucked a cigar out of his coat pocket and placed it between his lips. “Sounds like a difficult guy.” He was quiet for a while, unlit cigar drooping absentmindedly. “Probably thought you were trying to let him down easy.”
“Which I was, only I thought the truth would suffice. Should’ve just lied.”
He laughed softly. “Who me? I’m going to a funeral.”
Rose nodded in mock solemnity. “Uncle Tony got himself shot again.”
“Pop’s gonna wanna get revenge, and we keep telling him, not with that hip of yours you ain’t but does he listen?”
“I don’t think he would’ve believed that one either.”
“Guy like that, I reckon isn’t gonna believe anything that doesn’t allow him to feel sorry for himself.” There was a rare venom in his tone, but after another moment he was back to his usual warmth. “How’s this? From now on, you tell me when and I’ll call you a cab whenever you’re heading home from night school.”
“Frankie, you can’t afford that.”
“Of course I can afford it,” he said, like he was stating a simple fact that no one could imagine arguing with. He glanced over at her and in that same moment, a beam of light from the street cut across his face and made his eyes shine. The tenderness in those eyes caught her completely off guard, but he went on talking like nothing was the matter. “To tell you the truth, it’s been bothering me a bit, knowing you’re out walking alone this late.”
Had it been anyone else in the world, she would have bristled at that, but there was something about this man that made you happy to let him get away with things.
“Gosh," she said, cupping her face in mock surprise. "I didn’t realize you’ve been thinking about me.”
He laughed bashfully. “C’mon… You're teasing me."
Rose didn't disagree. “I’m not gonna let you waste your paycheck to shuttle me around town, but I’ll pay for my own cabs, if that gives you peace of mind.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
They drifted down the road in peaceful silence. The car smelled like coffee and cigar smoke – not precisely a pleasant smell, but comforting somehow, like the stinging smell of gas and road grime that lingered in her old man's clothes from his work at the car shop.
As they pulled up outside her building, she was struck by an intense reluctance. She didn't want to get out of the car and she didn't want him to leave yet.
Frank leaned forward to get a look at her face. "You alright?"
Rose laughed, because she'd always thought herself above this sort of thing. If she was ever going to fall in love, it'd be a slow, measured thing. She was going to wait until the right time for all the firsts and not get too involved before she was absolutely sure.
That was how it had been with all other guys she’d ever gone out with. And then he stumbled into her life and turned all of it on its head. It was easy to be together and hard work to pull away. Easy to be honest and hard to lie.
Easy to say, “You know, I think I’m pretty serious about you.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Well, that’s a relief.” He scratched the back of his hair. “Here I was, worrying I was getting in too deep too quick.”
“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows.
He dragged his hand all the way down the side of his face and on to his jaw. “Hey, c’mon,” he muttered, ears turning red.
“You’re in deep?”
He stared down into his lap for a moment before looking up at her with soulful eyes. "I am, to tell you the truth."
They stared at each other for a lingering moment. It was a funny trick he was playing on her, using his own nervousness to make her nervous too. He looked at her like he'd bet it all on red and it was on her to tell him if he'd won.
Rose exhaled sharply. "How many dates have we been on?"
"Four," he said.
They’d only shared a pair of chaste good night kisses until now.
Four dates and still his phone number had been the only one she could remember tonight, and she knew it had nothing to do with him being a cop. Oh no, it was because she’d been taking that scrap of paper out several times a day to stare at that number and consider if it was too soon to call him.
She huffed and leaned across to the driver seat, placing her hands on his shoulders. "All that stuff's arbitrary anyway.”
He looked like a startled cat. “Pardon?” he said with a confused smile.
Rose took the cigar from his lips and set it down on the dashboard, before cupping his jaw with both hands. She brushed her thumbs over the faint stubble covering his cheeks and felt him shiver from her touch.
He inhaled tightly and in a trembling murmur he said, “Rose…?”
She moved in close enough to feel his warmth on her face, his stuttering breath on her lips. His kind, brown eyes fluttered close. When their lips finally touched, he let out a soft, almost startled noise. His hands flailed for a moment, before landing on hers, holding them firmly against his face.
Rose moved her lips against his, sorta erratic and fumbling, because she wanted more than she knew how to get. But he followed her lead like he could read her mind, meeting her perfectly in each touch.
When they parted, his breath was coming out far heavier than you’d expect from a simple kiss, and he was looking at her like she’d hung the moon. “Rosie…” He sighed deeply. “Has anyone ever told you you’re wonderful when you’re serious?”
She hummed, flustered and giddy. “Trying to trick me into saying you’re pretty nice when you get in deep?”
His eyes blew wide open. “No! Absolutely, not! I-”
“I’m just teasing.”
“Oh.” He laughed nervously.
Rose pressed a kiss on his cheek.”I’d like to get serious about you again pretty soon.”
He laughed hoarsely, face pink. "Just say when, and I'll take you out for wontons."