Kirsten fiddled with the small gold cross around her neck as she worked her way back to the table. She caught herself humming 'Jesus love the little children' and stopped. The song didn't quite fit into ambience of the room, but then she took up the song again thinking to herself 'show me one place where Jesus doesn't belong'.
She placed her hand delicately on Dom's shouldar and whispered 'hey you' in his ear. Imediately he turned toward her and focused all of his being on her. Her hands did not get a moments peace. He would hold them in his own and turn them over as if memorizing all the tiny lines on them. Then he would bring one to his cheek and brush it against the roughness of his beard. When he brought her hands back together again it was almost as if he was concerned that they had been damaged some way on the stubble.
'My great Aunt used to read palms. My parents made fun of her mostly, but I always believed she knew something. I wonder what she would see in your hands for me.'
Kirsten leaned over and whispered something in Dom's ear. He stood at once throwing down at least twice the amount of the bill and led her out the door. As they drove home in his car Kirsten mused about how part of her allure was that they never did manage to finish a meal or sometimes even a drink.