Out Of This World Read Online Free

taunting with my coke bottle glasses, and braces complete with full headgear. Around the age of fifteen, I finally convinced my mom to let me wear contacts and my braces were also history, but that didn’t matter to those who’d already pegged me as the enemy.
    It was never a good idea to handle a large knife when I was nervous. I tend to slice things not meant to be sliced—like my fingers. I would have to be extra careful about cutting up the spaghetti squash lest I carve up my hand. I carefully quartered the winter vegetable and then tossed it into the water without bothering to wait for it to boil.
    I figured the wine had breathed enough and, if it hadn’t, I hoped Celeste wouldn’t notice. I needed a drink to calm my nerves. I poured the wine into our glasses, handed her a glass, and held mine up to meet hers.
    “Cheers,” I said.
    She tilted her head, but didn’t bring her glass up to mine. “Is there a competition we are cheering for?” she asked.
    I chuckled. “Come on, just touch your glass to mine so I can finally gulp this wine down. You’re making me nervous, you know.”
    She brought her glass to mine, tapped it, and then watched as I took a big swallow. She followed my lead and took an extra-large swig and then immediately starting coughing.
    I reached around to pat her back gently. “Are you all right? I don’t think Merlot is meant to be guzzled. Try sipping it. I know I’m a terrible role model, but I tend to consume alcohol more rapidly whenever I’m uncomfortable.”
    Celeste touched my arm and that sense of peace I was beginning to attribute to her touch flooded me again. She sipped her wine and nodded. “This has a nice flavor. I think I will like trying more wine. There are many varieties, yes?”
    “Oh yes, there are. It all depends on the type of grapes used, where they are grown, and who the winemaker is. The results are dramatically different. Making wine is a little bit art and a little bit science. Excuse me while I finish making dinner. Why don’t you take your wine and relax in the living room.” I pointed to the couch several feet away.
    “I cannot assist you in any way? If you demonstrate a task, I am able to replicate the movements.”
    “No, please, go sit on the couch and relax. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
    She nodded and headed to the couch.
    While I finished making dinner, I stole a few glances and saw how Gizmo, the little hussy, crawled into Celeste’s lap and made herself comfortable. I could hear her loud purr from several feet away. I quickly tossed some arugula, blueberries, craisens, goat cheese, and cashews into a large bowl and grabbed my homemade salad dressing. My nephew always joked that it was like liquid gold because it was the best he’d ever tasted. I usually traveled to Leavenworth, Washington, to buy the special balsamic vinegar and olive oil. This particular batch was a combination of cranberry walnut balsamic vinegar and blood orange olive oil. It was by far my favorite. I wanted to impress Celeste.
    Celeste was humming and I swear, combined with Gizmo’s purr, it almost sounded like they were in harmony. I hated to interrupt, but dinner was finally ready.
    “Okay it’s ready, but don’t let Gizmo con you into feeding her. She’s a squash addict and she loves my red sauce. We can eat here in my tiny dining room.”
    Celeste approached the table and glanced at the two place settings. “You don’t let Gizmo eat with you?”
    I laughed. “Well, I don’t set a plate at the table for her, but I guess she does kind of wiggle her way onto my lap at dinnertime, and I relent a little as I feed her table scraps. I know I shouldn’t, but she’s just so darned cute. I try not to feed her too much people food because it’s really not good for her.”
    “She is a lovely companion. Her spirit is pure and she is very fond of you.”
    I waited until she sat down and then I brought over the salad, sauce, bowl of squash, and grated Romano