Hooked Page 7

  Despite the numerous plates of warm cookies, racks full of cooling treats, and a pan my mother was pulling from the oven as I walked in, the kitchen was mostly spotless. If I’d baked even one batch of cookies it would’ve looked like I’d detonated a flour bomb. But Mom was a neat freak and even though she’d made enough chocolate chip cookies to host her own bake sale, not a hint of flour dust was to be seen.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the huge island to watch as she calmly freed the cookies from the baking sheets and transferred them to the cooling racks. She picked up a plate stacked high with sugary chocolate and pushed it toward me. I shook my head “no” and wrapped my fingers around the warm mug to fight off the chill that was crawling up my spine.

  “Did you have a nice lunch with Jay?” she asked.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes. Her fingers found a towel on the counter and she picked it up, unfolding it and then refolding it until it was a perfect square. She ran her fingers across the top, pressing out the wrinkles.

  “Mom. Just tell me. Do it quick like yanking off a Band-Aid. You’re just making it worse for both of us.”

  When she looked up, her eyes were wet and a fat tear squeezed out of the corner of her eye before rolling down her cheek, leaving a trail in her perfect makeup. I choked on my breath, watching the tear carve its way down her face. My mom didn’t cry. Or at least if she did, I’d never seen it. Until today.

  It took her forever to answer and there was a huge part of me that hoped she never would.

  “I have cancer,” she finally said.

  — HUCK —

  8. LONELY

  I was early for our date, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. The day seemed to have taken forever and I was pissed at myself that one day spent with Cat had made me feel so dependent on her company and so thoroughly impatient.

  I thought about exploring the other parts of Venice Beach I still hadn’t seen yet, but part of me wanted to wait and see it through Cat’s eyes for the first time. I knew that the way she experienced it and the way I would were two totally different things, and I was beginning to love her way of experiencing things.

  There was also the annoying fact that I didn’t have her phone number and she didn’t have mine. When she told me this morning to come to her apartment tonight, it didn’t occur to me to ask for her number. All I could think about was that I had to wait nine hours to see her again. And since she couldn’t call me either¸ we had to rely on showing up at each other’s doors. So, instead of leaving my condo and doing something interesting, I’d actually stayed in and unpacked.

  I unpacked. On the weekend. During the day. When I lived at the beach.

  All because I thought she might come back early and stop by to see me. Why? Because I rocked her world last night. Or she rocked mine. Did it matter? Worlds were rocked. I was sure of that.

  Christ. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was pathetic and I knew it.

  I climbed the stairs to her apartment and knocked on the door. As I waited, I turned to stare below at the inlet, where boats were coming and going, full of people taking advantage of a beautiful day on a holiday weekend. I’d pissed away my day and I didn’t have a good excuse other than I was obsessed with a girl I’d just met.

  The door opened behind me and I dressed myself in my most devastating smile before I turned around.

  Damn. I just wasted a perfectly good smile on a dude.

  “Hey, you must be Huck,” the guy said.

  “You must be Jay,” I answered.

  We stood there for a moment sizing one another up. His sizing up took a bit longer than mine.

  “I have good news and bad news,” Jay informed me. He didn’t invite me in and I raised an eyebrow. “The good news is, you look downright lickable right now.”

  “Lickable?” Did a guy just tell me I looked lickable?

  “The bad news is: Cat isn’t here to do the honors.”

  “No problem, I’ll just wait.” I stepped forward as if to go into the apartment, but Jay didn’t move aside to let me in.

  “She got a 911 call from her mom and had to go take care of it. She told me to apologize to you for her for bailing on the date,” he said.

  “Wait, Cat’s not coming back?”

  “No. She texted me an hour ago and said she wouldn’t be coming back tonight. You guys should’ve exchanged numbers,” Jay said. “Not that I mind passing along messages to pretty boys, but it would’ve saved you a trip.”

  Pretty boy? Ah. Maybe Jay wasn’t the competition I’d worried about before. At least not in the sense of wanting to get into Cat’s pants.

  “It kind of slipped our minds,” I explained. “What about Cat’s mom, though? Is everything okay?”

  Jay considered my question before answering. “Her mom made about nine hundred and forty three dozen cookies. I’d say on a scale of ‘this sucks’ to ‘oh fuck,’ the situation is at least two clicks past ‘oh fuck.’”

  “Not following.”

  “Anita bakes cookies when she has bad news to deliver to Cat and the number of cookies usually coincides with the severity of the news. Cat walked into a kitchen full of baked goods today. And as if that weren’t bad enough, Cat’s staying at her mom’s place. Overnight.”

  “That’s bad?”

  “It’s unheard of.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t know, she didn’t tell me. Cat’s kind of tight-lipped when it comes to personal stuff. Especially when it has to do with her family.”

  I folded my arms in front of my chest. “Yeah, I sort of noticed that,” I admitted. No talk about family, work, last names, or phone numbers. Cat was definitely keeping her distance with me. And for once, I didn’t want the girl to keep her distance. I finally found a girl I wanted to get to know better and she was the one keeping me at arm’s length. At least I comforted myself with the fact that Jay didn’t seem to know any details either.

  Damn. Cat was staying at her mom’s and I suddenly found myself with nothing to do for the rest of the night. I started to head down the steps to go back to my place, and when I turned to say goodbye to Jay, a thought struck me. “Hey, do you have plans tonight?” I asked.

  Jay took a small step back and put his hands in front of him as if to ward off an attack. “Look, Huck, I know I said you were ‘lickable,’ but Cat and I don’t share. I’m flattered, really, but no thanks.”

  “What? No, I wasn’t . . . I’m not . . .” I rearranged my thoughts. “Cat told me that you were an interior designer, and she said that I should give you a call and get you to give me an estimate on decorating my condo. Since I suddenly find myself with no plans tonight I thought maybe you could give me some advice. Cat said my condo has no personality.”

  Jay arched his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t trust her judgment. Have you seen her bedroom? Her idea of personality isn’t exactly something you want to strive for. I have a hard time keeping it contained to just one room.”

  “Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’m looking for something low-key. I just moved in, so it’s a blank canvas. I live across the way and thought if you weren’t doing anything, maybe you could take a peek. At my condo,” I clarified.

  “You got any beer?”

  My answer was a confused look.

  “I’m dying for a beer tonight and Cat doesn’t let me keep it in the apartment. I was just on my way out for a drink, but I could kill two birds with one stone.”

  “I’ve got a couple six packs in the fridge.”

  “You’ve got yourself an interior designer.” Jay walked out the front door and shut it behind him.

  ***

  “Wow! This place is great!” Jay walked around the condo, already on his second beer. He seemed fascinated by the windows, which admittedly were a huge selling point for me, too—as was the view. If only I’d known the view had included Cat’s apartment, it wouldn’t have taken me nearly as
long to sign the contract.

  “You’ve got great taste in furniture,” he noted. “We wouldn’t need to replace that. I think we can do a lot with some color, artwork, and window coverings.” He took out his phone and began to take some photos with it. “I can work up some ideas and get you an estimate in a few days.”

  “Will this be a freelance job or do we need to go through the company you work for?”

  Jay paused in his picture taking to level a smirk at me. “I own my own interior design firm and I only answer to myself. Don’t be fooled by the fact that I live in Dolphin Marina. Cat likes it there, so I stay. She keeps me around because I’m a good cook. I stick around because she’s good company.”

  I was a little annoyed that I wasn’t the only one that noticed what good company she was.

  “How long have you guys known each other?” I asked as he started to walk downstairs to take photos of the bedrooms.

  “We met the first week of college in our freshman year, so about six years now.”

  “You’re only twenty-four? That’s young to be a business owner,” I accused.

  “And you’re only twenty-six. That’s young to live in a condo with this kind of monthly nut,” he retorted. “What is it? Six grand?”

  I didn’t answer because he was pretty much spot on. I also felt like this was turning into some kind of pissing contest over Cat. If I wanted to stay in her good graces and make it to a second date, I needed to stay on Jay’s good side.

  While he finished taking photos and writing down notes, I kept my mouth shut so I wouldn’t say anything I’d regret. Chances were he’d be seeing Cat again before me. He knew my age, so clearly she’d told him at least all of the answers to the questions she’d asked me Friday night.

  “Know any good delivery places for food?” I asked, trying to get the conversation on neutral ground again.

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Subs.”

  “Yeah, I know a great place. I’ll write down the number for you.”

  “I’ll do you one better. If you call in the order, I’ll hook up the Xbox. I unpacked it earlier today so it won’t take me long. I’ve got Call of Duty Black Ops II ready to go. My treat on the subs.”

  “Free food and futuristic weapons? You’ve got yourself a deal,” Jay agreed, dialing a number on his phone. “But I’m still not licking you. I don’t do that until at least the third date.”

  And that’s how I ended up on a date with Cat’s best friend instead of her.

  ***

  Jay left well after midnight. We’d each crushed a six pack of Dog’s Head while playing Call of Duty before we started in on the shots of Patron. I was definitely feeling the side effects. I stumbled down the steps, glad that, even though the night hadn’t ended the way I’d planned, at least I hadn’t spent the rest of the night unpacking. I hoped Jay made it back to his apartment safely without falling into the inlet, but I wasn’t about to offer to walk him home. It wasn’t that kind of date.

  Even though I was far from any state of mind to work, I couldn’t go to bed without checking my email first. I may have been acting way out of character with respect to Cat since moving to L.A., but I was still a workaholic who liked to have a grasp on my responsibilities at all times. I stumbled into the room I was using as an office and nearly fell into the chair, stabbing at the keyboard with my fingers until I managed to get the password entered correctly.

  Scanning emails as quickly as my fuzzy brain could manage, I deleted the useless ones, quickly answered the ones that were simple requests, and made a mental list of the ones I could deal with in the morning.

  When I got to the one from Bridget, I nearly put my fist through my computer screen.

  —————————————

  From: Burns, Bridget

  Sent: Sunday, August 31, 2014 09:53 PM

  Subject: I miss you baby

  I’m so glad you’re living out in sunny California now, I can’t wait to come visit you. I just got a new red bikini that will blow your mind. I’ll blow the rest. Give me a call baby, I miss you.

  Love,

  Bree

  —————————————

  I didn’t know who had given her my personal email, but it was going to be ugly when I found out who it was. Bridget was the single biggest reason I’d decided to move in the first place. The only thing I hated more than the cutesy nickname she’d given herself was the fact that she now knew how to reach me. There was no way that psycho was coming out to visit me.

  I deleted the email with vigor, feeling a snarl rise in my throat when I saw the next email was from James.

  —————————————

  From: Darnell, James

  Sent: Sunday, August 31, 2014 10:26 PM

  Subject: RE: Hoffman account

  I just got your email. I’m out of town visiting family so I won’t be able to work on the changes on the Hoffman account until Tuesday. Sorry.

  Have a good holiday weekend, man.

  – James

  —————————————

  Have a good holiday weekend, man? I emailed him back demanding that he call me and I immediately got an “out of office” reply. He had a company phone that I knew he took everywhere with him. He got my email—I was sure of it. I waited exactly five minutes. When he didn’t call, I picked up my phone and nearly jammed my finger through the screen placing the call to him.

  He didn’t answer.

  Mother fucking, weekend ruining, asshole!

  I slumped in the chair, glaring at my email program, mentally sorting through my options. He clearly had no plans of doing the edits that had to be made. Firing James was definitely an option, but it didn’t really help with my current problem of needing someone to do the work. I had promised the client the changes would be made by start of business on Tuesday.

  I didn’t have a choice. Maverick had to be involved. This was going to be a most unpleasant way to start my week.

  I opened up a new email.

  “Maverick,” I typed. “I need you to clean up a mess James made and I need you to do it before Tuesday morning. You are now in charge of the Hoffman account. Let me know if you need any clarification on the attached documents.” I forwarded all of the pertinent information and hit send.

  I was going to have to work with Maverick on this project. Christ.

  — CAT —

  9. THE EDGE

  “I have cancer. Stage four gallbladder cancer.”

  Each word sliced through me like a serrated knife, leaving a jagged hole that I knew would never heal properly. I might have been clueless about cancer, but even I knew stage four wasn’t a good thing. It was usually the equivalent to a death sentence, wasn’t it? I didn’t know what to say because cancer was the last thing I’d expected. My mother was strong and vibrant and still so young. How could she have cancer?

  “I have an appointment with Dr. Schuman tomorrow morning at the University of California Irvine Cancer Center to talk about treatment options. I was hoping . . . I mean, since it’s Labor Day and you don’t have to work tomorrow . . . would you want to go with me?”

  She didn’t want to go alone. I didn’t want her to go alone. It hurt that she thought I might have chosen work over her if there had been that choice. My mother and I didn’t always seen eye to eye, but she was my mom. I loved her.

  And she was dying. Maybe. Probably. She didn’t say so, but I could hear the fear in her voice.

  “How did this happen? How did you find out? How long have you known? How are they going to fix this?” I was angry, I had a lot of questions, and suddenly I couldn’t hold them back anymore. They burst out of me in rapid-fire succession like I was holding a machine gun and emptying the rounds into her. But instead of bullets, it was my ferocious need for answers that she didn’t have.

  My mother let me get all of the questions out of my system before she answered me. She told me that so far, she knew she
had cancer, but that was about it. After months of debilitating stomach pain, she’d finally gone to see the doctor, and after a few weeks of relentless testing, they’d found the culprit.

  Motherfucking gallbladder cancer.

  “What the hell does the gallbladder even do?” I ranted. “Don’t a shit ton of people live just fine without their gallbladder?” I was yelling. I tried not to, but my voice wouldn’t obey me.

  “Yes,” she said calmly.

  “Can’t they just take yours out then?”

  “No. I have unresectable gallbladder cancer,” she said.

  “Unresectable? Mom, I’m an artist, not a doctor. What does that even mean?”

  She shrugged. “Just a fancy way to say that they can’t do surgery.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed. “When they did the tests, my body lit up like a Christmas tree.”

  “So . . . it’s everywhere?” Oh God. My knees were suddenly too weak to support me and I collapsed back onto my bar stool.

  “Not everywhere. My tits and ovaries are still clean as a whistle,” she joked darkly.

  “Mom. This is not a joking matter.”

  “If we can’t find reasons to smile even when things are at their darkest, then what’s the point of hope? Hope only really works when there is a need for it. And right now, we both need it. I need it.”

  My eyes met her watery gaze and I tried my best to hide the fear that was raging inside of me. She was looking for my strength because she was having difficulty finding her own. Even if she looked strong, the news had clearly devastated her. She needed hope. She needed me. I took a moment to armor myself in confidence before I spoke. If she needed strength and hope, I’d give it to her, even if I didn’t genuinely feel either.