I don't realize I'm staring at her until she notices me and lifts an eyebrow. Blinking out of my stupor, I close the distance between us and offer my hand. She slides her cool, soft palm into mine, and we shake.
"Glad you could make it," I say, gazing down at her. She smells like flower lotion today instead of French fries.
"You, too," she responds. Pink creeps into her cheeks. "I mean … whatever. It's your party. I guess you have to be here." She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. She notices we're still holding hands before I do and tugs loose.
"Someone's gotta keep the pies coming," I reply with a smile. "Can I show you around?"
"Sure." She crosses her arms and gazes around as if uncomfortable with the crowd.
I take her to see her brother first and then around the buffet tables. She seems most interested in the cookies and grabs two as we pass. We walk through the recreational and activity areas, pause to observe a basketball game among kids seven and under, and then take up a seat in the bingo hall, the quietest part of the community center.
"This is amazing," she says and sinks into the seat beside me. Her warmth and scent wash over me, and I shiver, unusually attracted to the sweet-stubborn combination she is. "And you do this every year?"
"Yeah. Wait 'til you see what we do for Christmas," I say with a quick smile.
Some of her excitement fades, and she looks away. "I guess we'll see," she murmurs. "Do you give everyone a personal tour?"
"Nah."
She appears to be waiting for a deeper explanation. I place a bingo card in front of her instead.
"It's been a while since I took time off work," she states. "Feels kind of surreal."
"You a workaholic?"
"Gotta pay the bills," she answers. "I swear Todd eats half a grocery store worth of food every week."
I chuckle. "He's growing."
"He's been driving me batty about the karate. You sure we're not imposing?"
"I have to be there anyway. I help out with the kids."
"Really? Your leg lets you?" She freezes and her gaze flies up to mine. "I really shouldn't have … omigod, Petr, I'm so sorry."
"I'd rather you ask than pretend it doesn't exist," I assure her.
"It doesn't bother you to talk about it?"
"Nah. Does it bother you to know about it?" I ask before I can stop myself. Shit. It's too early to ask her opinion on my leg. Without knowing much about Claudia aside from the fact she seems genuine, I'm risking being hurt by her response.