Calling California

by J. P. Grider

  "Oh, I thought you..." I begin to say, until I see the customer she is referring to.

  Standing against the wall, his hands in his Carharrt mechanic pants, his hair a mess, and his scruffy beard looking sexy as hell, Griffin's light blue eyes are staring at me, his mouth set in a lop-sided grin.

  "Griffin." I blush, smile, and sigh all at the same time.

  In two strides, he's at my window. "Hey, California," he says, still grinning. "Sorry I never called you last night; I didn’t get home until almost two. Figured you were sleeping, but are you busy tonight?" he says all in one breath.

  As pathetic as I am, I bite my lip before responding. "No."

  "Millicent staying late tonight?"

  "Yes." My chest pounds just looking at him.

  "Good. Pizza at my house."

  "Okay."

  "I'll pick you up at your house at seven."

  "Uh, I can drive to your house." I manage to say more than one word to him.

  "No. I'll pick you up," he says with a wink.

  Pathetically biting my lip again, I answer with what sounds like a giggle, "Okay." Stupid girl. College girls don't giggle.

  After he leaves, I turn to Anna who is smirking. "He's cute, California."

  "You heard that?"

  "Oh yeah. Is he the boy in your class that you like?"

  I feel myself turning red beneath my cheeks. "Yeah. That's Griffin." I can kick myself, because I sound all dreamy when I say his name. Cut it out, Calista. You're going to be a twenty-year old woman in four months.

  "Well he's definitely something to write home about, Cali. I hope he's a nice guy too."

  "Oh. He is. He really is. He's sweet, and kind, and..."

  "You can trust him?"

  I think about this a second. Then I feel it. "Oh yeah. Definitely." And coming from me, who's suspicious of everyone, that says a lot.

  18

  Cali

  "Two medium coffees with milk please, and two chocolate chip muffins." While the man at Dunkin' Donuts fixes my order, I text Griffin that I'm on my way home. I don't know why he just didn't want me to drive over myself, but since he insists on picking me up, I figured I'd pick him up my usual dinner choice - a muffin and a cup of coffee.

  Like before, he's already sitting on my front step when I get home.

  "Griffin. You have to stop beating me home. I mean to my house. I feel bad that you..."

  He stands up, says nothing, and closes in on me, hugging the crap out of me. "Oh, Cali. I really missed you," he says into my ear. "I know it's silly," he pulls away just enough to look into my face, but doesn't break the embrace, "but I felt so bad canceling last night, and then not being able to text you today. My battery died when I was at the shop, and..." he finally looks at me - holding the coffees in their tray in one hand, and the bag of muffins in the other - and says as he is takes the tray from me, "I'm so sorry, Cal. I wasn't even looking at what you were holding. Do you have to go inside?"

  Shaking my head, I tell him, "No. Millicent's inside." Besides, I'm excited here with Griffin. If I go inside, I'll see Dad just lying there and, well, I don't want to be depressed the rest of the night.

  "Okay then, let's go."

  Griffin hands me back the coffees in their trays then shuts the car door, running around and getting in on his side. "You didn't have to get coffee and whatever's in that bag."

  "Well, I just..you keep treating and well, I...I didn't want to show up empty handed."

  He smiles and a tiny chuckle comes out of his mouth. "You just paid for coffee yesterday. And besides, I'm not keeping tabs, Cal. You don't have to do that."

  "But that's not fair to you either. You have bills to pay, plus your car. I mean that must be costing you a fortune fixing that up."

  "Cal, it's not a problem. Really." He sounds so serious.

  "Well it's not a problem for me either."

  We pull into his driveway, and again, he takes the coffee from me. Inside, I follow him to the couch, and we set the coffee and muffins on the coffee table. I'm so hungry because I haven't eaten since before two, that I take the muffins out of the bag and hand one to Griffin. "Chocolate chip."

  "My favorite," he says.

  "Mine too." I lay the bag on my lap and start breaking pieces off and shoving them into my mouth. I know I'm self-conscious in front of Griffin, but when my stomach screams to feed it, I listen to it.

  "Damn it. Dinner. You didn't eat dinner."

  Chewing, I hold up my muffin and point to it.

  "That's your dinner?" he asks, frowning. "That's not a dinner. We were supposed to order a pizza. Let me order one."

  "Mmmm." I swallow. "No. This is fine. It's what I usually eat anyway."

  "You sure? It’s real easy to order a pizza."

  "No. Don't waste your money. I'm good."

  He takes a bite out of his. "How was work?"

  "Kind of slow. How 'bout for you? You worked with your dad last night?"

  He hesitates for a second. "Well, I worked for my dad."

  "Oh." He seems purposefully vague.

  "So how was school?" he asks, changing the subject.

  "Okay." Suddenly I'm nauseous and not in the mood for finishing my muffin. What is he hiding? And why? I now want to sink into myself like I always do. I hate being this way. Growing up, I was a little more outgoing. But when my father got sick and was told he was dying, part of me began to die as well. Suddenly the world changed. I became bitter and suspicious of everything. Though my parents made sure I knew that life wasn't easy, home life had always been happy. We didn't have much money or many material things, but my mom always made sure she had food on the table before she left for work at night. Then Dad got sick. My world shattered. Mom had to take on two jobs, Dad's health quickly deteriorated, and I was left to take care of the meals and my dad, and make sure I finished high school with high grades. Taking off two years of school after high school graduation wasn't what I wanted, but in order to save money to pay for classes, I needed to work full time. I don't know how Griffin's vagueness set me off on a tangent about my dad's illness turning everything upside down, but I'm feeling sick nonetheless.

  "Cali? What happened? All of a sudden it's like you just shut down. You okay?"

  "Oh. Yeah. I'm cool." I take another piece off my muffin and stick it in my mouth to avoid talking, but now I definitely want to throw up. I made a mistake coming here. Griffin is only going to distract me. I have no time for a boyfriend anyway. With my class load, work, taking care of my dad and the apartment, I'd be wearing myself thin adding a social life to it. "You know," I stand, putting my muffin back in its bag. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

  He stands and lifts my hand. "What? Why? Cali, what happened? Did I say something wrong?"

  "No. It's me." I bend down to get my coffee. "I should really see how my dad is doing. I shouldn't have come with you until I checked on him. I'm sorry."

  He touches me on the shoulder and says to my back. "Please don't go, Cali." Turning me around, he wraps his hands around both my arms. "I really want you to stay. I've been wanting to see you all day."

  I sigh. How can I tell if he is telling the truth? It already seems like he is hiding something. "You want me to stay?"

  "I do."

  I take a deep breath and bite my lip before speaking my mind. "Okay. On one condition."

  "Anything."

  "What kind of work did you have to help your dad with?"

  I watch him raise his eyebrows. "Hmmm. Okay. Will you sit down first?"

  "Yeah." I sit down on the couch, placing my coffee and muffin back on the table.

  "I'm not exactly poor...like I kind of led you to believe."

  "What?" Why would he feel the need to lie about that?

  "My dad has money. And," he tilts his head, "I helped him at his restaurant."

  "He owns a restaurant?"

  "Yes. He owns a couple of them." His eyes are searching mine. "Does that bother you?"

  I tak
e my time answering, since I'm not exactly sure what I'm feeling. But after thinking about it, I say, "It bothers me more that you felt the need to lie to me."

  Griffin laughs a little sardonically. "California, you don't exactly make it easy to tell you the truth about that. I mean, from the first time we met, you made it clear where you stood on people with money."

  Shit. "I made it that obvious?"

  "Uh, yeah, but I'm sure you didn't mean..."

  "I'm a terrible person, aren't I?"

  With a more lightheaded chuckle, Griffin disagrees with me. "No. You just...you're broke. I get it. It's hard to look past that when you're struggling."

  "It goes beyond that though."

  "Yeah. It's almost like you have this hate relationship with money," he jokes.

  I shake my head, ashamed, suddenly, for my actions.

  "Can I ask you something without you getting upset again?"

  "Yes." I cringe, wondering how much worse I can look.

  "When did this dislike of money begin? I mean...since we're being honest," he runs his hands up and down my thigh. "I would think that since you didn't have any money, you'd want to be with someone who did. No?"

  "No." I squirm. "I mean. I haven't really known anyone outside of my social class, you know? To be fair, I shouldn't make judgments, but my dad was treated really poorly at work. He'd work so hard and all. Worked at the company for so long, and then when he told them he had lung cancer and his medical wasn't enough to cover all the bills, his boss pulled out a paper they had him sign when he first started working there. He was young, so maybe he didn't read it, but they made him sign papers that said he couldn't sue the company for money if he got sick related to the job. I don't know. It's not right to sue. I think that's become a problem, but he just wanted some acknowledgment that working there had caused his illness, you know? They ended up firing him. No severance. Nothing. That was four years ago."

  Griffin squeezes my thigh.

  "They found a small tumor on his lung four years ago, but then when they fired him, we couldn't afford the COBRA insurance. My mother's insurance wouldn't cover him at the time because he had a pre-existing illness. I don't know. It became a mess. His cancer got progressively worse, and, well, that's just one of the reasons I have a problem. I'm not being fair, but those are my reasons, and, well, I'm just being honest."

  "Well thank you for that. I appreciate your honesty. And I want you to know that I will always be honest with you as well. From now on. As uncomfortable as it may be for me to tell you the truth or for you to hear the truth, I promise, I will never lie to you again. But," he squeezes my knee again and moves in closer, so that he has to remove his hand from my thigh and slide it behind my back, "can I tell you that not all people with money are dicks. I promise you." Now running his hand up and down my back, he continues, "Let me prove it to you."

  19

  Griffin

  "And how are you going to prove it to me?" Cali asks playfully.

  "Oh, I don't know," I say, keeping one hand on her back and sliding the other up her arm. "There are lots of ways I can prove it."

  Cali's breathing picks up.

  "Let me take you to the city this weekend." I still my hand on her forearm. "Please."

  "What? No."

  "What do you mean no? You know I have the money. I just told you I did. Let me spend it on you."

  "Oh. I don't know. No. No. That's just too much."

  "Cal. It's not too much. We live forty-five minutes away. It's not like I'm flying you to Paris...which I will gladly do, by the way," he jokes.

  "Well, I have always wanted to go to New York."

  "Good. We can spend the day there. In fact, if you want, I can ask Holly if we can borrow her parents place and stay a whole weekend."

  "I just met you. I can't..."

  "I mean with Holly and the guys," I lie. I really would rather it be she and I, but seeing her expression, I don't want her to think I want to rush into anything. Though with Cali, I don't think I'd mind rushing into a full blown relationship with her. Being with Cali is like nothing I'd experienced before. She's timid and scared, but behind the little girl who'd been knocked down one too many times, there is a fighter. I'll just have to prove to her that I'm worth the fight. Because it is going to take a lot more than her prejudice against the wealthy to keep me away.

  "Oh. You think they'd want to do that?" she asks quietly.

  "Why not? She offered."

  "Well, when? I'd have to see if the nurse is available and stuff."

  Which reminds me. "Hey. If your dad isn't covered under insurance, how can you afford a nurse?"

  "He wasn't covered at first," she shakes her head, "but last year sometime, pre-existing conditions were allowed and Mom got him covered under hers. It's not the best, but he's in hospice now, so a nurse is covered, from what Mom tells me, and Millicent loves my dad, so she goes above and beyond what she's paid to do."

  "Hospice? It's that far along?" Man, I feel shitty knowing her father is so close to the end of his life, and I'm talking about taking her to the city.

  She nods.

  "I'm sorry."

  Shrugging, she says, "What are ya gonna do?"

  "You're playing with that muffin. You're not going to eat it?"

  "Got distracted with all this talk about New York City." She laughs.

  "Okay. Then we gotta get you there." Before she can change her mind, I text Holly asking if we could do that New York trip this weekend.

  "You're texting Holly already?"

  "Yes I am. How 'bout this weekend? Can you go if she says yes?"

  A big smile appears on her face. "Like I said, I'd have to see if Millicent can stay until my mom gets home from work. I'm sure she could, but I still have to ask."

  My phone buzzes. "Looks like this weekend or next is good, so find out what's best for you and we'll go, okay?"

  "And you really have enough money?"

  "It's not even an issue."

  "Wait a minute." Cali's frown is back. "The way you dress. All your ripped clothes. And your car. Was that all just to fool me?"

  "Oh God no, Cali. No. I dress like this all the time. I like dressing like this. And that car? It's a 1969 Hursts Olds 442. It's a classic. It cost my dad $50,000 dollars."

  "Oh." Her smile is tentative. "Really? $50,000 dollars for that?"

  "Uh, yeah," I say, now embarrassed that I had my father spend that much on my car.

  Trying to read Cali is difficult. Through her eyes, I can see her gears turning. Thinking. And I'm not sure she is comfortable with the fact that I have so much expendable cash.

  But before I can say another word, the front door opens and in walk Hurley and Knox. "Hey, Griff," they shout.

  "Hey, Cali, right?" Knox says, pointing at her.

  "Yeah. Knox?"

  "Yup. Nice to see you again."

  "Hey, Cali, I'm Hurley. I remember seeing you the other night at the party."

  "Oh." Cali obviously doesn't remember meeting my other roommate.

  "Guess you're not that memorable, Lee," Knox jokes before leaving the room to go into the kitchen.

  "Did Braden get home yet?" Hurley asks.

  "No. I think today is his late class."

  "Ah. 'Kay. Well nice to meet you, Cali."

  "Nice to meet you too."

  "Braden is one of your roommates?"

  "Yeah. Listen, wanna go get a burger? I'm sure that half a muffin was hardly filling."

  Cali bites her lip and shrugs.

  "We can go to Donny's again. It's close, and all this honesty has worked up my appetite. My treat."

  "No. No. You don't have to. I have enough for a burger."

  "No. If you pay, then it won't be a date."

  "You paid the other night."

  "Yeah. That was our first date. I want this to be our second date."

  She blushes, but says, "And I'm not allowed to pay my own way on a second date?"

  "Not in my book. No."
/>
  She tilts her head and sighs, saying nothing.

  "Cali. You have to get over...no." I was not going to start this argument again. "I would like to take you out tonight. Please let me."

  She nods her head but says nothing, though she does allow me to take her hand and lead her to my car.

  "So this car really cost fifty-thousand dollars?" she asks once we're on the road.

  "You don't think my car's worth it?"

  "I don't know much about cars."

  "It's worth it. It's a 1969 Hursts Oldsmobile. Google it. When I'm done with it, it's gonna be white with gold stripes. It's gonna be fucking awesome."

  "I'll have to take your word for it," she deadpans.

  "Google it. It's a great car. You're not into cars, I guess?"

  "Uh, not so much." She breaks into a quiet laugh and I like the sound of it.

  Getting to Donny's takes less time than it took us to get there from Cali's apartment the other night. "Thank you for letting me take you out again," I tell her, taking her hand to walk inside Donny's.

  "Thank you for taking me out again. You're nice...for a rich guy." She jokes, and I grin, hoping that I've won her over. Maybe she wouldn't let the difference in our social class get in the way of being together.

  I sure as hell hope not.

  20

  Cali

  After enjoying the best hamburger I'd ever had, for the second time in three days, I'm disappointed that Griffin is driving me home and not bringing me to his house. I don't want the night to end. Griffin totally kept apologizing all night for lying to me about his wealth. At first it pissed me off, because I can't tolerate liars, but his explanation as to why he lied did make sense. As he said, I did not make it easy for him to fill me in on his family's financial situation. Plus, he felt guilty for having so much money, when my family has so little. So I didn't hold a grudge, and we had a really pleasant evening talking about all the types of classic cars that Griffin likes and what he is doing to restore his '69 Hursts Olds 442. And, yes, I am very proud of myself for remembering the name of his car.