Unbeknownst to Tony, the pizzas he delivered that day after the Woods house were "special."
Being a physical therapist means you deal with all kinds of people and Abioli Ladipo definitely found some more pleasant than others. His favorite was Mrs. Morgenstern, a Jewish widow in her eighties who clearly valued keeping mobile and made her best efforts to cooperate, unlike some of his clients. She liked talking about her long and complicated life, but she differed from a lot of old people in that she valued hearing about Abioli's life as well. The relationship between them had gotten almost flirtatious, because both knew that between a Nigerian immigrant in his twenties and an American woman in her eighties, flirtatious would all it would ever be.
It was his last visit of the day, and Mrs. Morgenstern ordered a pizza for the two to share--something he was supposed to refuse according to policy, but it just seemed rude. Mrs. Morgenstern carefully brought the slice to her lips and bit off a piece. She was chewing more vigorously than Abioli had seen in a while, which was good. On closer inspection, the lines in her face were less visible than they had been. How was that possible? And why was her white hair steadily darkening? Her arm was moving more fluidly and with less hesitation as she replaced the slice on her plate. I'm good but I'm not that good, Abioli thought. The arm itself looked different, the loose skin almost vanishing. His eye was drawn to her chest, where her sagging breasts were tightening. They were actually kind of cute now. Hesitating, Abioli shifted his gaze to her face, now the face of a woman in her early twenties. With a body to match.
"Uh, uh, uh maybe I should, uh" said Abioli. Nothing in his training had prepared him for this.
"Mr. Ladipo," said the very pretty young woman occupying the space that the aged widow had occupied moments before crisply "Might I request that you shut up and kiss me?"
So he did.