Dobrila's Heart Ch. 02

Chapter Two -- The Best of Friends

As I left my apartment and approached Dobrila's door, I felt a distinct pang of hunger and realized I was famished. I had eaten very little at all that day while expending a tremendous amount of energy unpacking and attending to Dolly.

I could hear music emanating from her apartment, leaning my ear close to her door I could clearly hear the chorus of 'Viva Las Vegas', by Elvis Presley. I smiled and knocked, wondering if she would even be able to hear me over the music.

Dobrila opened the door surprisingly quickly with a bright smile as she bobbed her head and moved her prodigious hips to the rhythm of the song. She took my arm as I entered and leaned in to quickly kiss my cheek.

"Please to come in," she said, "Dinner is almost ready."

The friendly familiarity of her greeting kiss brought a smile to my lips as I followed her into her living room. She quickly turned the volume down on her sound system and turned to me with a broad smile.

"Is Elvis Presley, yes?" she beamed, indicating the shelf where she kept a surprising amount of Elvis memorabilia, photos, bobbleheads, and music CDs. "For me, he is the best. You like him?"

I had certainly heard of Elvis Presley and was even familiar with some of his music. On the other hand, Dobrila was apparently very much a fan, so I just nodded and smiled. I had no feelings about him one way or another, he was just not of my era musically.

It was then that the cooking aroma from her kitchen surrounded me and completely inundated my sense of smell and I nearly groaned aloud with pleasure.

"Oh...My...God, Dobrila!" I gasped, "Your dinner smells absolutely heavenly."

"Oh, Jimmy, I hope you like it. Is gołąbki and pierogi (stuffed cabbage rolls and pierogies) and is my babcia's (grandmother's) recipe. She led me into the kitchen area where the table was immaculately set, complete with candles. As I sat, she poured me a very generous amount of wine into a large goblet and placed it in front of me.

She turned to the stove where a large pot was on the burner. She lifted the lid and stirred the contents, sending another wave of incredible smells into the air.

"Dinner is ready very soon," she smiled as she opened the oven door and took out a large tray and set it on the counter. She carried on with small talk as she prepared the food and sipped her wine, telling me how she had followed her grandmother's recipe to the letter.

"Look, I show you," she said.

She took a small hard-bound notebook from a drawer beside the stove and handed it to me. Opening it I was surprised to see everything written in Polish script by her grandmother's hand. It looked very old, the pages browned with age, and everything seemed very fragile, and I handled it carefully.

Dobrila went on to explain how she had just recently come upon this particular recipe book after a recent trip to San Diego where she happened to look through several boxes of her family's heirlooms that were kept in her sister's basement. Whenever she spoke of her grandmother, mother, and sister, she always used the Polish terminology of babcia, matka, and siostra, respectively. I was a little surprised to see how emotional she became when speaking about her mother and grandmother, her voice broke, and tears welled in her eyes.

It told me a lot about the genuinely warm and loving woman she was, and it warmed my heart.

She served up the food onto warmed plates and set a plate before me piled high with food. I waited patiently while she served up her own plate and joined me at the table. She raised her wine glass to me.

"To good friends, yes?"

I held my glass up to her, repeating the toast, and we each sipped. I did my very best to be the soul of decorum as I began to eat. For as much as I wanted to just shovel the food into my mouth like a starving homeless person, I followed Dobrila's example and took my time. My God, her dinner was not just good, it was incredible. I have eaten pierogies and cabbage rolls many times in my life but never in my life have they ever tasted so astonishingly good.

I complimented her several times during the meal, which seemed to please her greatly. "I love to cook, Jimmy. My babcia taught me cooking when I was very young, and I always try to use her old original recipes. Is not so much fun to cook for just myself though. Is very nice having a guest for dinner, yes?"

She spoke of her youth in Poland and how at twenty years of age, her family had arranged for her to marry a much older man who brought her to the US, along with her younger sister, Beata. She partnered with her husband in his thriving investment and real estate business. When he died a few years later from cancer, she brought Beata into the business, and together they managed to make the business even more successful. Then, when Beata married, her husband was brought into the business as well.

They had several business investment properties to manage here in Las Vegas, so Dobrila decided to move here while Beata and her husband remained to handle the southern California accounts from the home office in San Diego. She grimaced slightly, "I did not like the weather in San Diego," she said, "I was always cold."

When I asked about her husband, she sighed and shrugged. "He was a nice and kind man," she offered. "Many years older than me, yes? My family arranged the marriage for me. Was not so much for love...more for convenience."

I nodded, wondering what convenience might mean. After relating about her husband, Dobrila seemed a little down and distracted. Thinking to enliven the mood I patted my stomach and smiled.

"I have to say, Dobrila, that was the best meal I have had in a very long time. Thank you for inviting me."

She smiled brightly and her disposition brightened almost immediately. "Thank you so much, Jimmy, and you are more than welcome. Was my pleasure to cook dinner for you. I will make up a special plate of leftover food for you, you can reheat tomorrow for your dinner, yes?"

"Wow, Dobrila, that would be amazing," I responded, already enjoying tomorrow night's dinner in my mind.

She paused, placing a fingertip on her lips as her eyes widened. "Wait..." she said thoughtfully, "Oh, Jimmy, I think I might have even better idea."

She stood and smiled, moving to her refrigerator, and opening the freezer compartment to retrieve her bottle of vodka. She scooped up two glasses on the way back and smiled at me. "Come," she said, "we go to the living room to relax a little, yes?"

Taking seats on her sofa, she poured generous amounts of vodka into each of our glasses. I quickly raised mine to her and said, "Here's to you, Dobrila. Thank you VERY much for dinner. Without a word of a lie, it was one of the best meals I've ever had."

"Thank you," she said with a laugh as her cheeks colored once more, "Was nice like this, having dinner together, yes?"

"Very nice," I responded, nodding enthusiastically.

"So," she began, folding her hands in her lap and turning on the sofa to look more directly at me, "Here is what I am thinking. Maybe, instead of taking food home for dinner tomorrow, you come back here tomorrow for dinner, and we eat together again, yes?"

I almost couldn't believe my ears. Tonight's dinner was supposed to be some kind of a reward for fixing her faucet, but now she invited me back because she enjoyed having my company for dinner. For me, I couldn't think of a nicer turn of events.

"I would LOVE that, Dobrila," I said with a broad smile. "I am like you," I said, thinking of my usual dinner fare of frozen microwave entrees on a TV tray in front of the television. "Tonight was nice for me too, not just for the wonderful meal you made, but also because of the company."

She blushed slightly and looked away, "Thank you, Jimmy. I feel the same about you." She paused for a moment then raised her glass with a smile. "So, is a date then for tomorrow night, yes?"

I nodded and we clinked our glasses together before sipping.

"And now, Jimmy, is your turn. Tell to me all the things about you," she said with a smile, keeping her body angled toward me.

I laughed and shrugged, "There's not a whole hell of a lot to tell," I said, noticing peripherally how her dress had risen above her knees when she had shifted her position. I did my level best to keep my eyes on hers while I related how I had grown up in a small town in northern Nevada before moving on my own to Las Vegas over a year ago. I related how things had not gone tremendously well for me here in Las Vegas with a menial job that did little more than put a roof over my head and buy a few groceries every month.

She nodded thoughtfully, "You live alone in your apartment, like me. But you must have girlfriend, yes?"

I laughed softly at the way she phrased the question and shook my head, "I have girlfriend, NO," I said with a smile, mimicking her style of speech and phrasing.

Dobrila frowned, "How this is so?" she queried with a surprised raise of her eyebrows. "You are very handsome and sexy young man."

I laughed and shook my head, "Handsome and sexy?" I returned. "I think maybe you have had too much vodka."

"No, is true. Is not because of vodka I say this. Is very surprising to me that you do not have girlfriend.

Maybe it was the several glasses of wine at dinner, and now the vodka, that combined to lower my usual inhibitions for talking about myself. But I think a lot of it had to do with Dobrila's open, honest, and above all, friendly demeanor, which encouraged me to speak more openly than I had ever opened up to anyone before. I related the dismal saga of my love life. Or to be more correct, my lack of love life. I explained how my diminutive stature had greatly limited my ability to attract girls, especially in the small community I was raised, where the female population was somewhat limited to begin with.

"Don't get me wrong," I said, "I've had a few girls that I consider to be friends, but never one that was a girlfriend, you know...in the romantic sense."

"Never, Jimmy?" She said, her brows rising with a look of mild surprise.

I shrugged and shook my head. "Nope, never, zero, zip, and nada," I said with a little self-deprecating laugh. "All the girls I was ever exposed to wanted guys to be at least taller than they were, and that was never me."

Dobrila pursed her lips thoughtfully, "So, you are still dziewica then, yes? A virgin?"

That hit me like an unexpected gut punch, and I almost choked while swallowing a sip of vodka. My biggest, deepest, darkest, most embarrassing secret was suddenly unraveling. My expression must have told her everything she needed to know because she affectionately reached out to place her hand over mine.

"Is all right, Jimmy. Is perfectly all right to be dziewica, yes?" she said, leaning forward to look intently into my eyes. Despite the poignancy of that particular moment, I was intensely aware that the bodice of her dress had fallen away to display another revealing glimpse of her cleavage, and I did my best to keep my eyes from dropping to her chest.

I felt my cheeks flushing warmly with embarrassment and I laughed softly and looked away to sip my drink, "That's kind of an easy thing to say, especially because you're a woman. For a guy though, it's kind of a pride thing. You know, kind of a rite of passage into manhood. I guess I've always felt...I don't know, less of a man because of it. How can that be a good thing?"

"Oh, Jimmy," she sighed, giving my hand an affectionate squeeze. "Trust me now, when you find the right woman and fall in love, you will understand how wonderful it is that you are still dziewica for her."

"Dziewica," I repeated softly with a little smile, "Somehow it doesn't sound quite so bad in Polish. Did I say it correctly?"

"Jev..eet..za," she sounded it slowly for me with an understanding smile. I repeated it several times until she nodded that I had it right.

She leaned forward once again to look into my eyes and, once again, her dress fell away to reveal yet another stunning view of her deep cleavage. After yesterday's glimpse, I had been hoping for another opportunity to look beneath her dress, and I couldn't resist taking every tiny opportunity to glance down at her chest.

"You know," I continued thoughtfully, "there've been more than a few times when I thought I should just drive north of the city to visit one of those legal brothels. You know, just to get the whole thing over with, so it wouldn't be weighing so much on me. I mean, I'm freaking twenty-two years old for Christ's sake."

Dobrila gave me a horrified look, "Prostytutka?" She said with a strong shake of her head. "No, no, no...not prostytutka, is not for you, Jimmy." She leaned forward once more to unconsciously expose her cleavage to me once again. "Prostytutka maybe makes you feel good here," she said, reaching down to lightly place her fingertips over my groin area. "But not here," she continued, raising her hand to place it over my heart. "Your first time for sex you will remember all your life. It should be with a woman you love and not prostytutka."

I nodded and smiled, acknowledging the wisdom of her words, while the back of my mind was still reeling from her intimate touch against my genital area as well as her still exposed cleavage. It is safe to say that no woman in the world has ever had her hand on me so intimately. And she did it so calmly and so casually, not as a touch of intimacy, but to make a point. Yet, I was overwhelmed by the intimacy of her touch.

"You give good, sound advice, Dobrila, and I thank you," I managed to stammer.

Malenka chose that moment to jump up onto Dobrila's lap and, in doing so, pushed the hem of her dress almost to the middle of her thighs. As Dobrila cooed and pampered the cat for a few moments, I couldn't help but admire the view of her plush thighs. As I have mentioned previously, Dobrila's legs were thick and heavy and not what most people might think to be shapely and attractive, but I couldn't help but think her legs were exceptionally pleasant to look at (what little I had ever been able to see). And, strangely enough, the more I came to know her and her personality, the more appealing these little glimpses of her body became to me.

"So," she said once she had moved the cat from her lap. She filled our glasses once more. "We have another drink, yes?"

I smiled and nodded, glad for the pleasant distraction away from any further discussion of my virginity.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, suddenly remembering the time and looking at my watch. "Can you please turn on the television, I usually watch Jeopardy every night, and it's almost over. I just want to see who wins."

"You watch Jeopardy?" she asked with a curious smile. "I watch too, every night. And have better idea than to watch just the end. We can watch the whole show, I record it every night."

I looked at her in astonishment. She was also a Jeopardy fan? It seemed we had a lot more in common than a love of food and drink. She turned on the television and switched to recorded programs to start tonight's Jeopardy program from the beginning. She then refilled our glasses.

"To Jeopardy," she said with a broad smile, "and to dziewictwo," she added with a sly wink, "Is meaning virginity," she explained.

I laughed and raised my glass, clinking it against hers, and then sat back to watch the program. As it played, she and I both booed to see Mayim Bialik as the host and then laughed when we looked at one another, each of us recognizing the other as an experienced fan of the show.

When the program was over, I bid her good night. She walked me to her door and embraced me, kissing each of my cheeks as I savored the sensation of her body against mine.

"And tomorrow we have dinner date again, yes?" she said, her lips near my ear as we embraced. "We can even watch Jeopardy together again too, yes?"

"Absolutely," I responded, releasing her almost reluctantly and turning away quickly, as I had on the previous evening, to keep her from seeing the rising bulge in my jeans.

Later, in my bedroom, I came inside Dolly's plastic vagina two separate times as visions of Dobrila's cleavage and exposed thighs played through my memories.

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Dinner the following night was every bit as wonderful as it had been previously, with the added attraction of an apple strudel she had prepared for dessert.

Over dinner, she brought up the subject of Malenka. She told me how later in the week she was scheduled to make a trip to San Diego for a doctor's appointment to see her Cardiologist and also to meet with her sister to discuss some company business. She told me how she would normally board Malenka at the veterinary hospital while she was away. She gave me a hopeful smile and said how Malenka seemed to like me very much. She asked if I would be kind enough to feed Malenka while she was away and I readily accepted, happy to help her out in any way I could.

"How often do you see your cardiologist?" I inquired, recalling how she had stents placed as well as the dizziness she had experienced the other day.

Dobrila nodded, "Maybe twice a year. He is a nice man. After the stents placed, my heart is now much better, so is mostly just for checking up."

"Did you have some kind of heart attack?" I asked with concern.

She nodded her head, "Little bit I suppose, those are his words. I just felt tired all the time. He said I could maybe have a bigger heart attack if I did nothing, so he put stents to open my veins."

After dinner, I helped her clear the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher before retiring to the living room sofa with the ubiquitous bottle of vodka. We had just settled onto the sofa and had our first drink, toasting the wonderful dinner. The television was on and broadcasting the latest developments out of Washington D.C. where the newest ridiculous conspiracy theory about election fraud had the country in a quandary.

"Bah!" said Dobrila with a shake of her head and a dismissive wave of her hand. "Is all just fucking bullshit, the things in Washington."

My eyes widened in surprise to hear her speak that way and I couldn't help but smile.

Dobrila glanced at me, realizing she had just voiced an obscenity in front of me without realizing it. Her cheeks reddened and she averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy, I forget sometimes I am not by myself."

I laughed softly and gave her a broad smile, reaching over to place my hand on her upper arm and, this time, took the opportunity to stroke her exquisitely soft skin affectionately. "You have nothing to apologize for, Dobrila. I'm happy you said what you did, it makes you sound like a normal human."

She looked up and I saw the corners of her mouth begin to rise into a smile.

"In fact," I continued, "I say 'fucking bullshit' all the time. In fact, I say fucking and bullshit even separately. So, you never have to watch your language when I'm around."

Dobrila laughed and nodded, "Thank you, Jimmy, is nice to know." She poured more vodka into each of our glasses.

We continued watching the news and weather, toasting a few times. I'd forgotten how many we had already consumed but we were both a little goofy and had been laughing a fair amount that evening.

We raised our glasses to one another. "Here's to fucking bullshit," I toasted with a broad smile.

Dobrila burst out with a laugh, "Yes...yes, Jimmy, to fucking bullshit."

"So, tell me, Dobrila. I'm curious. Does the word 'fuck' have the same meaning in Polish?"

She nodded readily. "It means to have sex, yes? In Polish the word is pieprzyć, it means same, to have sex." She smiled and shrugged, "But, 'fuck' is better word, I think. Is easier to say, yes?"