Hooked Page 13

  I tried to turn my brain off because a year was too soon, and all of these people were too sweet and special to be given such an unfair deadline.

  I wasn’t allowed to go back with my mom for her radiation treatment, so when it was finally her turn, I took out my laptop again. Even though I technically had the day off, working helped me keep my brain busy. I worked on edits for a few projects, and then my phone buzzed with an incoming text message.

  Jay: How’s it going, Baby Girl?

  Me: I’m with Anita.

  I still hadn’t told him about my mom’s cancer. He knew I’d rearranged my work schedule to be with her once a week, but he didn’t know why. He hadn’t prodded me to tell him, which only proved that he had the patience of a saint. I owed it to him to tell the truth. After all, he was watching my satanic cat, Spooky, for me so that I could stay at my mom’s house with her. I should tell him. Now. I knew I was a coward for deciding to tell him over text, but I also knew he’d understand.

  Me: We’re at the University of California Irvine Cancer Center.

  Jay: Shit. She has cancer?

  Me: Gallbladder.

  Jay: Does she even need the gallbladder?

  He knew just what to say.

  Me: That’s exactly what I said!

  Jay: So, how’s she doing?

  Me: It’s not good Jay. She’s dying.

  It was so much easier to type the word “dying” than to actually say it.

  Jay: I’m sorry.

  Now that I’d opened the flood gates, it all came pouring out of me. Maybe it was just easier to tell him because it was over text and he wouldn’t see me if I started crying. I hated crying in front of people.

  Me: The doctor says she has three or four months to live. Maybe more with treatment. She’s in a clinical trial for chemo and radiation.

  Jay: Shit. Do you want me to come stay with you at her house to help out? I can find someone to take care of Spooky for a while.

  I wanted to scream “yes,” but I knew that wouldn’t be fair of me. Jay had a career and a life outside of me and my drama. He needed to live it. He couldn’t give up the next few months just so life would be easier on me. That just wouldn’t be fair.

  Me: No, I’ll be all right. We still on for lunch tomorrow?

  Jay: You bet your ass. Don’t be late.

  Me: I won’t. See you tomorrow, Cupcake.

  My mom and I went out to lunch that afternoon because for once, she had a bit of an appetite. She seemed energized after making it through half a day of treatments and waiting rooms. But the next morning, I woke up to the sounds of her in her bathroom, vomiting. I walked through her bedroom and when I passed her bed, I saw a messy pile of hair on her pillowcase. I held back my tears as I entered the bathroom, knelt next to her on the floor, and held back her hair as the chemo and radiation did their worst to her. I found a rubber band and some barrettes and pulled back her shoulder length hair so it wouldn’t be in the way.

  “I’ll stay home today,” I told her.

  She coughed again over the bowl. “I’ll be fine,” she said, wiping her mouth with the hand towel from the sink.

  “Mom. Will you stop saying the word ‘fine?’ You’re not fine. It’s not a big deal for me to take the day off, I have vacation time.”

  “Which you’re going to need later when I’m really sick,” she said ominously. “Save it for then.”

  “Mom . . .”

  “Go to work, Cate. I can handle vomiting. Really. I’d rather you not be here for that.”

  As much as I wanted to defy her, I knew it wasn’t fair. She was a victim in this, I needed to let her have some control over her life.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll call Nadine and see if she can come over after lunch so she can hang out with you. I bet she’d love to watch Glee.” Nadine was one of my mom’s former employees. After Nadine retired, they’d stayed in touch and had become good friends.

  My mom nodded in acceptance. On my way out, I swept the hair off her pillow and into my palm as I made my way to the kitchen. When I dropped it into trash can, the rich brown chestnut pieces fluttered down amongst the remnants of our dinner from the night before. My mom’s life was like her hair—beautiful, vibrant, and fleeting.

  ***

  Two weeks later we shaved my mom’s head and bought her first wig. It was blonde and she said it made her feel like a movie star. She’d lost ten pounds and looked like she’d added another five years to her age. A month ago she looked younger than her fifty-two years. Four weeks of chemo had made her look like she was at least sixty-five.

  ***

  Two weeks after that, the sores in her mouth were so painful she refused to eat solid food. I was buying Ensure nutrition shakes by the case. The blisters on her abdomen from the radiation were so severe that I had to force myself not to get sick when I changed the dressing on them. She still had two more weeks of treatment in the clinical trial and I couldn’t imagine how she’d endure if the symptoms got worse.

  ***

  A week later, my mom’s blood count was so low she couldn’t get her treatment. She cried, almost like she feared she might drop dead without getting her weekly dose of poison. I was secretly glad. That week, without the chemo ravaging her body, she got her appetite back in small amounts and was able to stay awake more frequently. My normal routine of coming home straight after work usually ended up with me eating my dinner on the couch next to my mom who was fast asleep after attempting to watch her latest Netflix rental.

  That Thursday, however, she not only ate a little bit of dinner, but we invited Nadine over and played Mexican Train Dominoes until midnight. My mom seemed to be doing better. It was the healthiest she’d been since she started the clinical trial. For once, I was feeling hopeful.

  The next day I got an unexpected email from Will.

  —————————————

  From: Stone, William

  Sent: Friday, October 25, 2014 08:37 PM

  To: Maverick, Cate

  Subject: Legend Records Holiday Party

  We’ve been invited to a party for Legend Records tomorrow night. They’d like to introduce their new design team to the CEO and agents. Sorry for the late notice. Do you already have plans for tomorrow or would you like to go with me?

  – Huck

  P.S. It’s a costume party. Masks are required.

  —————————————

  Did I want to go? My mom was doing better and Nadine was already planning to come over anyway. I hadn’t been anywhere but to work and my mom’s house for the last two months and to be honest, I was dying for a breath of fresh air—a break. I felt guilty for wanting a break when my mom couldn’t get away from the cancer, but I realized, as her caretaker, having a little time away might help my mood, which would in turn, help her.

  Or maybe that was a selfish lie I was just telling myself.

  The question was: did I want to go to the party? Well, it was a costume party and who didn’t love those? And I’d get to meet a lot of interesting people in the music industry. Of course I wanted to go.

  But Will Stone would be there. And that was both a reason to go and not to go. I’d done a good job over the last few weeks being professional and avoiding him. When we saw each other in the hall or at meetings, our glances were brief and we were both careful not to touch one another or do anything else that might lead to inappropriate behavior.

  A costume party at Legend Records.

  I wanted to go. I could spend a night with Will and behave, right? How hard could it be?

  — HUCK —

  16. IN WONDERLAND

  “Do you have a costume already?”

  It took me a minute to answer because I was surprised that Cat was calling me. For the last two months she’d only conversed with me over email or in group conversations in the conference room. Hearing her voice, even over the phone, was like a drug I’d forgotten I needed.

  “No,” I said. “Not yet. I wasn�
�t going to rent anything until I was sure you wanted to go.”

  “I want to go,” she said. “Don’t rent anything, I have something you can borrow.”

  “You have something I can borrow? I’m not sure I want to know what that is.” I laughed, wondering what she had in mind.

  She sighed. “Not me, Jay has something you can borrow. We did this cosplay thing a few years ago at Comic-con in San Diego.”

  “Cosplay?” I’d never heard of that. It sounded like a band name. Whatever it was, it was likely far out of my comfort zone, like most of the things about Cat.

  “It’s short for ‘costume play.’ You take fictional characters and come up with really cool costumes with a twist to them and . . .” She paused. “Look, do you trust me?”

  “I do, but I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be totally cool. You’ll love it.” There was silence. “Probably.” More silence. “You’ll look great,” she promised.

  “Fine,” I agreed, figuring it was better not to know. If it made her happy and saved me the trouble of renting something on such short notice, it would probably be okay. “Should I just pick you up at 7:00 then?”

  “Come by at 6 o’clock and Jay can help you get the costume on. I’ll make something for us to eat.”

  “I thought you were a terrible cook.”

  “Good point. I’ll order something for us to eat.” She sounded excited, more like herself than she had in the last two months.

  ***

  I arrived at her apartment right on time.

  The door opened and Cat was standing there, dressed in her usual black clothes, her hair colored in pink and purple streaks.

  “Oh good, you’re on time,” she said, turning back into the apartment and leaving the door open for me to follow her inside. She yelped as Spooky darted between her legs almost causing her to fall.

  “Thanks a lot, Spook,” she yelled at him. Once past her feet, he found his way to me and twisted in and out of my shins, curling his tail around the lower parts of my legs as he purred.

  “He totally hates me.” She frowned. “Come on in, the food just got here. Jay told me you liked the subs you guys got from Anthony’s, so I took a chance.” She held out a sandwich wrapped in white paper. I took a seat at the bar and unwrapped the sub.

  “You’re a goddess,” I said. My mouth watered over the Italian sub loaded with all the goodies.

  “Don’t thank me yet. You still have to put on the costume,” she warned.

  The sandwich was halfway to my mouth. “Well, now I’m concerned.”

  Jay turned to look at her. He was almost done with the cup of fries in front of him. “You didn’t tell him what it was?”

  “No, that would’ve ruined the surprise.”

  Jay’s expression was apologetic when he turned to look at me. “Sorry, Huck. Just so you know, I didn’t have any choice when I wore it either.”

  Christ. This could be bad. What was I thinking letting Cat choose a costume for me to wear to a party with clients?

  Cat saw the worried look on my face. “Oh it’s fine. Don’t get all worked up. Eat your sub before the oil and vinegar make the bread all soggy.” Her tongue slipped out of her mouth to catch a bit of mayo on her bottom lip and I forgot all about the costume. I was strongly wishing Jay had been otherwise occupied for the evening.

  “What are you doing tonight while I’m enduring whatever embarrassment Cat has planned for me?” I asked Jay.

  “I have a date,” he boasted.

  “No you don’t. You’re going to Roosterfish and you’ll probably bring home some guy you just met,” Cat said.

  “That’s called a date, Catherine,” he corrected her.

  “No, it isn’t, Jacob. That’s called a one-night stand,” she accused him, pointing a fry right in his face.

  He bit the end of her fry. “There will be no standing, trust me.”

  Cat laughed. “You are such a slut.”

  “Okay, kettle. Whatever you say.”

  I was suddenly uncomfortable. I didn’t want to know what Cat had been up to or how often she had one-night stands. The jealousy made me want to break something.

  She slapped him. “I’m living with my mother for two months, Jay. My virginity has nearly been restored to factory settings.”

  “I know,” he admitted. “You’re an embarrassment to sluts everywhere.”

  When Cat looked away, Jay winked at me and I smiled my thanks back to him.

  Cat finished her sandwich and wiped her hands on her pants before chugging her bottle of water. “I’m going to start getting dressed. Think you can be ready to leave in half an hour?” she asked me.

  I looked at Jay. “Can I?”

  “Yeah, you don’t need to do any of that girly make-up shit. Take your time on that sub, Pretty Boy.”

  ***

  I was standing in front of the mirror and I was looking at the costume, but I didn’t get it. Jay had given me black leather pants, a tight black shirt with bronze gears as buttons, and a purple and black short leather trench coat. The coat had buckles and gears strapped to it along with brass fittings and rivets. There was also a bronze pocket watch on a chain. It was actually a really cool outfit as far as costumes went, I just didn’t know what it was.

  “She made me wear black make-up around my eyes when we went to Comic-con, but I’ll let you off the hook. You’ll look fine without it.”

  “Thanks. By the way, what am I supposed to be?” I asked Jay.

  “Oh, right,” Jay said. “The hat.” He put an oddly shaped black top hat on my head that had a wide piece of purple fabric around it. More gears had been fastened to the hat as well as a pair of steampunk glasses. A piece of thick card stock was tucked in the purple band and when I turned my head, I could see that it read “10/6.”

  “The Mad Hatter?” I asked.

  Jay shrugged. “Cosplay style with a little bit of steampunk thrown in.”

  “Wow, this is actually pretty cool. I’m impressed.”

  “This was all Cat,” he said, gesturing to the outfit. “I had no say in it at all, just as I had no say in whether or not I actually wanted to go to Comic-con. We had a good time, though.”

  “Speaking of Cat, how is she?” I asked.

  “Lonely. Afraid,” he responded, shrugging.

  “She won’t tell me anything. She hardly speaks to me at all.”

  “You know I can’t give you any details. I just hope you can get her to relax and have a little fun.”

  I nodded. “That’s my intention.”

  “Just so you know, I won’t be back tonight. I’m staying at a friend’s house.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m serious, you can bring her back here. Show her a good time, Huck. She needs it. She needs you.”

  “Are you asking me to fuck your best friend?” I laughed.

  “She was a lot happier when you were.” He was serious.

  “I’m not the one saying no,” I admitted.

  “Then don’t give her a reason to.”

  “I can’t change the fact that we work together.”

  “Help her forget it, if only for a night,” Jay suggested. He looked at his watch. “Shit, I have to go. I’m going to be late. Good luck.”

  I followed him out into the living room, but he was already out the door. A distinctive purr let me know it was just me and Spooky. I sat down on the couch, and the cat curled up next to me as I pulled out my phone to keep myself busy. Cat still had five minutes before we were supposed to leave, and Spooky was using every available second to rub his head against my thigh.

  Cat’s bedroom door opened, but I didn’t look up right away. I grabbed my hat off the couch and stood, brushing Spooky’s hair off my pants. When I finally looked up and caught sight of her costume, I wished I’d still been sitting because the desire that slammed into me was almost paralyzing. I assumed that since I was dressed as the Mad Hatter that she would dress as Alice
or maybe even the Queen of Hearts. I was not expecting the Cheshire Cat. And definitely not one that made me want to take her in the bedroom and skip the party all together.

  She was wearing a form-fitting outfit that covered her from ankles to wrists to collarbone. The spandex hugged every curve and was striped with large bands of pink and purple. Over top of the skin-tight stripes she was wearing a pair of purple leather shorts and a thick pink belt with a gear shaped belt buckle. There was a matching purple leather corset and from the knees to her ankles she was covered in pink and purple striped, very fluffy, leg warmers. Small, pink, fuzzy ears poked out of her striped hair and vivid pink and purple make-up was artfully applied around her eyes.

  I wanted to peel every piece of clothing off her and kiss every inch of her body. I wanted to make her purr. I wanted to make her call my name out like she had all those weeks ago.

  “The masks,” she said, handing me mine. I watched as she put hers on first—a purple leather thing that circled her eyes and dipped down the sides of her face. It had delicate bronze whiskers, pink tufts of fur on the edges, and small gears along the sides. She’d decorated it to look like the Cheshire Cat, but it was still classy.

  My mask was much simpler—black leather with bronze rivets to match the jacket.

  “Sorry yours isn’t very fancy,” she said. “I had to make it earlier today.”

  “It looks great, thanks. You look phenomenal by the way,” I said, allowing my eyes to take a leisurely stroll across her body. She didn’t fidget, she let me look all I wanted. “Why the Cheshire Cat?” I finally asked, remembering that her skateboard was also decorated with the Cheshire Cat.

  “He’s one of the greatest literary characters of all time. He’s wise, all-knowing, mysterious, devious, and most importantly—vexing. Cats in general are more superior creatures, which is why I chose it as my nickname. Cats were once worshipped as gods you know. And they are very good judges of character.”