Suddenly Single

“Yeah. Let’s just hope his generosity and goodness extends to me.”

“Living with a gay man is going to be awkward, no? What about his…” Josephine searched for the right word. “Friends?”

Lisa shrugged. “That doesn’t bother me in the least. To each his own, I say.”

“You young people have strange ideas. I don’t understand your way of thinking.”

Now that was one statement of Josephine Morelli’s that she could agree with wholeheartedly.

3

“I REALLY APPRECIATE your letting me move in with you temporarily, Leo,” Lisa said, a week after her arrival. “You’re a real lifesaver. My own personal fairy godmother.”

“Well, that sort of fits, doesn’t it?” he replied with a wink. The ability to laugh at himself was one of Leo’s greatest gifts.

Lisa dropped the last carton of her belongings onto the living-room floor with a thud, amidst her teddy-bear and Barbie-doll collection, making Leo grit his teeth.

“As long as you understand that it’s only temporary, Lisa.” The fussy man stared in obvious disgust at the mess she’d already created. “I won’t pretend, sweetie, that this was my idea. I invited you to stay here as a favor to Francie, who has assured me that you will be neat as a pin and looking for employment very soon.”

Lisa crossed her fingers behind her back. The concept of “neat” wasn’t actually part of her vocabulary, so that would take a bit of work on her part. “Absolutely. Neat is my middle name. And I’m heading to the unemployment office first thing in the morning. As soon as I can get my hands on a computer—” Leo looked horrified that she might attempt to use his “—I’m going to post my résumé on one of those job-search sites on the Internet.” Of course, she needed to make a résumé first, but there was no need to mention that. Poor Leo seemed traumatized enough as it was.

“Sounds good. I’m sure we’ll get along just great. Do you like to dine out?”

Lisa was surprised by the question. “Of course. Who doesn’t? Why do you ask?”

“I have a thing about dining out. I love it. And I hate eating alone. Francie used to accompany me. I hope you will, too.”

“If you’re paying, I’m dining, Leo.” Lisa felt as if she’d just died and gone to heaven. Someone actually wanted to pay for her meals; that was more than fine with her. And Leo probably ate at all the best restaurants, which made his request even better.

“And when I don’t dine out, I usually order in. I’m not very proficient in the kitchen,” he added.

“Don’t worry about that. I love to cook. Baking is my specialty.” And she was damn good at it, too. Lisa didn’t do many things well, but few people could best her when it came to baking. She’d actually thought about taking some classes and trying to bake professionally but, like with most things, Lisa was better at dreaming than doing.

As much as she loved her parents, John and Josephine Morelli had never encouraged either of their daughters to become academic achievers and turn the world on its ear.

For Josephine, getting married and having babies was the greatest accomplishment a woman could strive for, and that’s what she was still encouraging her daughters to do.

Fortunately, Francie had always been a go-getter and had made something of herself: she was a bona fide interior designer now.

Lisa had lived up to her parents’ expectations of her, which were low to nonexistent, so in that regard she had accomplished something.

Leo’s eyes lit up. “Do you know how to make chocolate-chip cookies?”

She grinned from ear to ear. “My chocolate-chip cookies are better than orgasms. You will think Nirvana after the first bite.”

“This I gotta see. Make me a list. I’ll run down to the market and buy everything you need to make the cookies. What else do you know how to bake?”

Having just discovered Leo’s Achilles’ heel, Lisa smiled confidently, planning to make the most of it.

LISA LEARNED the following morning that finding a job was not nearly as easy as filling Leo’s insatiable craving for sweets.

The red-faced, little pip-squeak behind the counter at the unemployment office had handed Lisa a form, told her to fill it out and return it to him, then wait to be called for an interview.

That had been forty-five minutes ago!

At the rate she was going, she’d be too old and senile to work and would instead be able to qualify for social-security benefits.

Not that she had anything better to do with her time—unless you counted watching Wheel of Fortune reruns on Leo’s big-screen TV—but she hated being made to feel like a second-class citizen. She wasn’t applying for food stamps; she was trying to find a job so she could support herself, for crying out loud!

“Miss Morelli. Miss Lisa Morelli. Please step up to the counter.”

Looking up when her name was announced, Lisa breathed a sigh of relief that her turn had finally come. “Here.” She began waving, then stood. “I’m coming,” she called out as she made her way toward the counter through the hoard of people waiting in line, openly coveting her good fortune.

At the unemployment office the “you snooze, you lose” rule was firmly in effect.

Mr. Pip-squeak had so many freckles that his face looked like one big red blob. He was looking over her work history and frowning deeply, which didn’t bode well for her finding a decent job.

People tended to underestimate her abilities.

“I’m afraid, Miss Morelli, that with your lack of experience, there aren’t many jobs available that fit your qualifications.”

Lisa couldn’t keep the dismay from her face. “But I worked in a bookstore. That should count for something, shouldn’t it?”

“That’s true. But we have no current listings for that kind of job. You are, of course, free to apply at the major bookstore chains, if you like. They always need help during the Christmas holidays.”

As if she hadn’t already done that. Puleeze! And the Christmas holidays were still eleven months away. What was she supposed to do until then, hit the streets with a tin cup?

“What we do have is a job at the Holiday House Motel. It pays minimum wage, but no benefits, I’m afraid.”

“Doing what?”

“Cleaning motel rooms, that sort of thing.”

She fought the urge to gag. Just what she wanted to do with her life: change sheets that had been soiled from—

Yuck!

“Is that all you have? I must be qualified for something better than that. What about selling cosmetics?” She leaned over the counter. “See how carefully my eyeliner is applied? I’m very good at—”

“Afraid not.” Rubbing his chin, he flipped through the thick stack of cards that listed all the current jobs that were available. “There is a job waitressing, but you don’t have the experience, I’m afraid.”

“The good news is I’m a quick learner. Where’s it at?”

“Little Italy. Delisio’s Deli.”

Lisa’s face lit. “I’ll take it.” She grabbed the card from the startled man’s hand and headed toward the door.

“Wait, Miss Morelli! I have to place a call, let them know you’re coming. You can’t just go there on your own.”