Friday, February 12, 2010
I TOLD HIM EVERYTHING and he did the same. It was amazing how we never ran out of things to talk about.
We talked about our trips and often we’d watch the same TV shows at night. It didn’t matter where we were, it felt like we were together.
Time didn’t seem like our enemy anymore. Being gone was good, but—for the first time—being home wasn’t that bad either.
The nice thing about having an apartment that didn’t house a lot of stuff, was it was really easy to keep clean. I wasn’t there much, but even when I was, I spent most of my time in my bedroom. Sure, I had a couch and a television in the living room, but it still didn’t feel that cozy. Which, in the long run, had been my idea of keeping things simple. And let me tell you. They were simple.
There was nothing on my walls. I had a few lamps and a couple of family pictures on a table by the door. As far as decoration went, that was it. The kitchen was simple, too. Only the necessities. It was ironic that I was a professional chef, yet I rarely cooked at home anymore. When I actually went grocery shopping, it was for staples. Cheese. Coffee. Bread. Pop-tarts. Things that a person has to have to survive.
So when I arrived home from Miami, the Thursday before Valentine’s Day, it was nice to do real shopping.
Casey was coming to my place. Something that had never, ever happened before.
I wasn’t sure what he planned, but he told me he wanted to take me out on Saturday, even though Sunday was actually Valentine’s Day. The next week, he had an early Monday morning meeting with a distributor in Texas, who by his account, played a major role in having Bay Brew throughout the state. He’d be leaving late Sunday afternoon, which was fine. I guess.
I did what little cleaning needed to be done. Took the trash out, cleaned my hair out of the shower, washed my sheets, and did some laundry on Friday while I waited.
Audrey picked Casey up from the airport. I thought it was sweet he wanted to see his sister. And since he insisted the weekend belonged to just us, I invited her over for dinner.
Hearing a knock at the door, and since I was expecting them, I answered it as fast as my legs could get me there. I opened it to find it wasn’t Casey and Audrey, but a delivery man instead. He held a large vase wrapped in green tissue paper. It was the largest bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen.
I signed for the flowers, and set them down on the little table, and in no more time than I could thank the man, my telephone started ringing. I didn’t bother unwrapping the delivery, I had to look for my cell. Retrieving it, I saw that it was Dr. Rex.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hi, Blake. I’m sorry to call you on a Friday evening. I know we made plans for Grant to come next week, but I have to reschedule.” I didn’t like the sound of that. At my last session, I explained what went down with him, and she was very generous in accepting to see us. I hoped she hadn’t changed her mind.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“Yes, everything is okay, but I have to leave town for a little while. My son just called and he’s in the hospital. Now I’m on my way to the airport. It appears he has an appendix that’s throwing quite a fit, and they want to do surgery. I told him I’d stick around until he was feeling better. And you don’t know my son, but I’ll tell you—he’s a big baby. I shouldn’t be gone for longer than a week or so. Just until he’s feeling better,” she explained.
How awful. I remembered my brother Shane having his appendix out his senior year of high school. It wasn’t pretty.
“Sure. I’m so sorry. I know how painful that can be. I hope everything goes okay. Do you want to call me when you get back in town? We can reschedule after you get caught up,” I suggested.
“Yes, that’s perfect. Thanks. And I’m sorry to postpone things for you, Blake. I know how bad you want to get this moving forward. I hope that a few weeks won’t cause any trouble. I can always refer you to someone else.”
She was right. I didn’t want to delay the inevitable any longer than necessary, but I also didn’t want to see anyone but her. I had to wait.
“No, don’t be silly. We’ll wait for you.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that. Is Casey there yet?” she asked conspiratorially, and quietly laughed into the receiver. I loved her.
“No. I just got flowers though,” I told her, like I was chatting with a girlfriend.
“Oh, I’m so excited for you. Now remember, just keep doing what you’re doing. Talk. Okay?”
There was another knock and I answered the door with the phone still at my ear. It was them. I held it open and motioned to come inside.
“Hey, Dr. Rex, they’re here now. I’m going to let you go. Have a safe flight and I hope your son gets better fast,” I said, as Casey walked through the open door and placed a quick kiss on my cheek.
“Ok, sweetie. Thank you. I’ll call when I know more. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I closed the door and spun to see Casey, and his oldest younger sister, Audrey, in my living room.
“Hi,” Casey said, looking around and making faces. “I like what you’ve done with the place. What is this? Minimalist chic?”
“Ha. Ha. I told you, I don’t have much stuff,” I said to him.
Then I spoke to Audrey. “Was he like this growing up, too? Mouthy and rude?”
She smiled and nodded. “Actually, this is a little tame,” she admitted. Casey swung an arm around her neck, like he was bringing her in for a hug, then he wrapped his hand around the other side and covered her mouth.
“You’re a liar aren’t you, Audrey?” He grinned as he asked. Then he shook her head for her, making her laugh. “I think what you meant was charming and handsome.”
Then he shook her head again inciting more laughter. She attempted to kick him from behind, but he dodged her. Just as I suspected, it was easy to see how close they were. Hell, he talked to his siblings more than I talked to either of my mine.
Then, I remembered the flowers.
“And don’t forget sweet, Audrey,” I added and pointed to the large vase behind me. “You didn’t have to send me flowers when you were coming yourself.” I turned around to unwrap them, so they’d be proudly displayed. They were just about the only ornamental thing in the place.
“I didn’t send those,” he stated with a guilty, cheesy grin.
“What?”
I tucked the green crepe paper stuff under my arm and looked for a card. Then the temperature inside me dropped. I prayed they weren’t from Grant, but I soon realized my quick prayer went unanswered when I read the card.
My stomach soured and flipped inside out. He really thought we were going to work things out? Even though when I’d emailed him to tell him about the appointment—that now I’d have to email him, telling him it was off until further notice—I hoped he was going into it knowing I wasn’t changing my mind.
That man only ever saw what he wanted. Read what he wanted. Heard what he wanted. My nausea turned to frustration.
I was happy I had planned to cook, because I wanted to cut and chop, and bitch and moan internally. Cooking was a great way to relieve the tension.
“Blake, may I use your bathroom?” Audrey asked.
I mumbled, “Sure,” and pointed down the hall. “It’s right down there.”
I wanted to rip up the card, but first I wanted Casey to read it. If it were me, I’d want to see. I felt him come up behind me and gently kiss the side of my neck, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“They’re from Grant,” he said already knowing. He didn’t sound jealous or suspicious. He sounded like he wasn’t surprised at all.
“Yeah, read the card.” I held it up so he could read it over my shoulder.
“How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. I’m annoyed, I guess. I feel bad for feeling like that, but that’s what I’m working with.” I relaxed as he started rocking us unthinkingly back and forth. It was soothing.
“The dude is oblivious. The definition of oblivious.” Then he turned me around in his arms. I looped mine around him and just held on for a minute. We continued to almost, but not quite, slow dance in front of flowers from the guy who wouldn’t get a clue. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I said back into his shirt, which smelled of him and Southwest Airlines.
“They’re not bad flowers. Roses though? For Valentine’s Day?” Casey judged.
“I told you. He’s traditional.”
He hummed as he thought, and squinted before saying, “I would have got you a tomato and a lettuce plant. And a pig.”
“Awww. See? That’s romantic.” A BLT-entine.
“But I didn’t get you those things.”
“So what? It’s the thought that counts. And I like the thought of your delicious Valentine better than real roses.”
Neither of us said anything for a minute or two. I enjoyed that finally, Casey was standing in the same place that my mail came. It was the first time the apartment felt like my home.
“Oh. My. God. He’s so damn cute,” I squealed, looking at the pictures Audrey had taken of Foster. Some were over Christmas and others were at Micah and Cory’s wedding. She was really talented. Her artful eyes looked at things differently than I would have. She’d edited the photos herself and they were amazing, but the ones she’d taken of Foster were especially priceless. “That face is perfect.”
“He gets that from me,” Casey said, as he stood at my sink washing dishes from dinner. He insisted he do them, since I cooked.
I just liked the way he looked in my kitchen.
Then he looked up, and before he could wink, I beat him to it. He chuckled and said, “I have the same face as his slightly-less-good-looking-than-me father. The kid has good genes.”
Audrey and I both rolled our eyes and scrolled on through picture after picture. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I can have them printed,” I said.
She offered to print my favorite picture of our godson, lying on a blanket with a look that really did remind me of Casey. One eyebrow cocked up like he knew all the secrets to the world.
“No, I want to. We’ll call it a house warming gift,” she told me and beamed proudly. My little home could definitely use some warming. “I’m getting a lot printed, I know a guy at school who can process them for us. Really.”
She was so sweet. Her thick and curly, dirty-blonde hair was tied up in a huge wad atop her head. She had Casey’s style. Loose, but trendy. Casual, but she looked like she could walk a runway at any moment. That family did have great genes.
“Okay, thanks.”
“Which one did she pick?” Casey asked. He plopped down next to me at the small, bistro-style table in my dining room.
“One of the same ones you did,” she answered, and then showed him the one I’d chosen. “I like that one, too.”
We talked about the things she was doing in her classes and we had a genuinely great time. It was incredible feeling included—even in a small way—into their family. It made me so hopeful and eager for the future.
The BLT gift would have been nice, but having Casey and Audrey in my apartment, just hanging out, was a fantastic consolation.
“Okay, you two have fun. I’m going to head out. I’m doing a campus tour tomorrow,” Audrey told us as she put her jacket on and wrapped her pretty silk scarf around her neck. “I don’t need to look tired when I’m walking prospective students and their parents around campus.”
Casey hugged his little sister tightly. “Be careful. Drive safe,” he instructed. “Text me when you get back to your room.”
“Yes, Dad,” she mocked as she went out the door.
“Bye, Audrey,” I said and she waved. She had one of the most truly perfect smiles.
We closed the door after she pulled away.
“Now, you. Get the fuck over here…,” Casey stalked toward me, “…with your wink-stealing ass. That’s my move.” He looked menacing, and fully capable of delivering a wicked punishment for my thievery.
“You don’t scare me,” I said as I walked backward, retreating through my apartment. He stopped all of a sudden, went back to the front door, locked it and then like a flash he was after me.
“Then why are you running from me?”
“Stop, Casey,” I said as I circled my bed.
He paused inside my bedroom, not far from the door, and held up a finger for me to wait a minute. He looked all around, like my bedroom was a fascinating museum exhibit. There wasn’t much to see. A closet with shoes all over the place. In retrospect, I could have spent some time in there straightening it up, since I was having bedroom company. Nevertheless, it was my closet and it wasn’t that bad.
“You have a lot of shoes.”
“Yep. And I don’t wear half of them. I just put them on for a second and then settle for one of the three pairs that are already broken in.” I lay over my bed, but kept my feet on the floor as I allowed him to waltz through my stuff.
Then he saw the picture of us, from Chicago on the Fourth of July, which I’d printed from my phone and framed. I did that the first week I lived there.
“Honeybee, you have a picture of me beside your bed?” he inquired, bending down to look at it on the nightstand. Then, in a much unexpected move, he opened my nightstand drawer. The one with my toy. My special talking on the phone with naughty, dirty, flirty Casey toy. I’d bought that the first week, too.
“You keep a picture of me above your vibrator like a sexual tombstone.” He chuckled. “I approve.”
I was mortified for about ten seconds. Then he turned the little silver toy on. I can’t deny it, I was turned on, too.