Take the Cake

by Sandra Wright

  Tom blanched. If there was one friend he treasured as much as Kate, it was her big brother. Paul was perhaps the only person in New York City other than Kate who could rouse Tom out of bed to help with some manual labor on a Sunday.

  “Point taken,” he said, looking chagrined. “I’ll buy him a beer later.”

  “He’ll like that,” Kate assured him.

  ~~~

  Michael flickered his fingers over the computer keyboard, and then sighed and deleted the sentence. He gave the laptop a light shove and kicked back in his chair, staring at the screen. He didn’t know what he was writing. He wasn’t even in the mood to write; he was just trying to occupy himself as a way to kill time until he heard from Kate again. He needed to find something to do. Getting up from his chair, he wandered over to his bookshelf, selecting books at random and then putting them back when they didn’t appeal.

  He huffed out a sigh and stood with hands on hips, staring dejectedly around the apartment. Used to his own company for so long, he now found himself missing Kate’s. He had no idea what he was going to do with the afternoon that stretched interminably ahead of him.

  Half an hour later, he slouched lower on the sofa, staring at the television, trying to work out what the movie was about, and then realized he didn’t particularly even like it. Reaching for the remote, he scrolled through some more cable channels before giving up in disgust. There was nothing he wanted to watch, so he switched the TV off and got up, scuffing into the kitchen. A minute later he slammed the refrigerator shut. He didn’t want anything to eat, either. He stood in the living room, hands on his hips again as he stared at the floor. What he really wanted was Kate, and she wasn’t here because she was back at the store with another man. Not just another man, but an ex-boyfriend with whom she’d had a committed relationship.

  So what if the guy was gay now; it wasn’t helping him feel any better about the situation. And what had he done? Reaching up to rub the back of his neck with one hand, Michael ran his fingers through his hair and growled under his breath. The first sign of any conflict and he’d turned tail and fled, which was playing right into the other guy’s hands. And what if Kate had wanted him to stay? Michael groaned this time, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration. She hadn’t begged him to stay. If anything, she had looked just as uncomfortable as he had felt. Should he have asked if she wanted to leave with him? No, she’d stayed. Paul seemed to be the emotional stabilizer in the store, so perhaps he’d keep things on an even keel.

  Or not.

  Michael didn’t know Paul’s history with Tom, which in itself was no surprise given he’d only just heard about the man today. He grimaced at the turn the day had taken. He and Kate had woken up in each other’s arms and were delighting in the thought of a whole day together stretching before them. That feeling had lasted as long as it had taken for Alistair to call. Kate had dealt with the surprise far better than he had expected. When it came to his previous relationships, Michael was used to the opposite: pouting and endless questions about why the current woman in his life wasn’t featured in his work.

  He shook his head as he thought of some of the women in his past. They had all been beautiful and intelligent to be sure, and yet strangely insecure and hungry for some kind of immortality in the reflection of Michael’s words. He had never delivered, and they had inevitably moved on. Their disenchantment at their inability to inspire had been combined with Michael’s less than stellar social skills and impossible working hours. He knew it was foolish to blame that sole factor on the breakups, but there were at least two ex-girlfriends who had longed to be considered his literary muse.

  He’d never needed a muse until he met Kate. Her appearance in his work had been quite unexpected, but once she was on the page, it became impossible for him to write anything else. By the time he had begun to wonder if he should tell Kate what he was working on, they’d seemed to have passed the point of no return. Kate had asked him a few questions about his work before he had been ready to discuss it, and then the subject had been dropped. He had entertained the brief fantasy of presenting Kate with a finished copy of the book, watching the surprise and delight dance across her face as she realized what the story contained. All it had taken to ruin all of that was for Michael’s phone to be out of reach when Alistair called.

  Punching the wall with frustration, Michael stalked toward the bedroom and stripped off his T-shirt. He might as well go for a run. He shoved down his jeans and kicked them aside as he walked into the bathroom to grab his shorts off a hook on the back of the bathroom door. He changed with quick, angry movements, slamming the apartment door after him with unnecessary force.

  ~~~

  “So when do you think you’ll be seeing him again?” Tom asked, his voice only slightly muffled by the potato wedge he had just stuffed into his mouth.

  “Today, I hope,” Kate replied, licking some sour cream off her fingers. After two glasses of wine, she had started to feel a bit wobbly, so she’d insisted that they get something to eat.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” Tom urged, holding up his empty glass to signal a passing waiter, and then gave Kate a questioning look. “Glass or bottle?”

  “Might as well make it a bottle,” Kate said in a resigned tone. Given the rate he was drinking, it would work out cheaper. She felt a pang of sympathy for Tom now. He drank like this when he was nervous, so the conversation had obviously had more of an impact on him than she’d thought. “Tom, are you seeing anyone?”

  “Not right now,” he admitted, reaching for another wedge.

  “But what about that guy you—” she began, stopping when Tom shook his head vehemently.

  “Uh-uh, Momma’s boy,” he said with a tone of finality.

  “Right.” She considered this. Tom’s dating history since he had come out had certainly been a moving feast, but there hadn’t been many relationships in the intervening years that had lasted more than a couple of months at best. “Anyone on the horizon?”

  “Nope,” he said, “and while the hunt for Mr. Right continues, I’ve still got you.”

  And with that simple comment, Kate had an epiphany. Even though they had ended the sexual side of their relationship, she was still very much Tom’s girlfriend. She was his go-to girl when he wasn’t in a relationship of his own, which is why he preferred it when she was available. Anger roiled in her chest at the thought of being Tom’s beck and call girl to satisfy his thirst for company. She looked up and was arrested by the look of stark longing on his face: Tom was watching a couple on the other side of the bar, laughing and enjoying themselves.

  Tom looked back at her and raised an eyebrow, his expression shuttered once more.

  “What?”

  “Did you hear what you just said?” Kate said.

  “No, what?”

  Kate repeated his words back to him. Tom stared at her for a long moment.

  “Fuuuuck,” he sighed at least. “Okay, point taken.”

  “Wow.” Kate nodded.

  “That’s putting it lightly. You know, Kate, I never meant … I guess that …” he broke again and snorted at his fumbling. “Would it, I mean, that is to say …”

  “Oh, just say it,” Kate said.

  “Security blanket,” he blurted.

  Kate blinked. “Okay,” she said at last. “I’ll need a little more information than that.”

  “Kate, we’ve known each other most of our lives. Hell, even when you moved to the big smoke, I wasn’t too far behind. All this time you’ve been my security blanket. Even when I knew I might be gay, I thought if I could make it in a relationship with you, everything would be okay.” He swallowed. “But I only ended up lying to the both of us.”

  Kate’s throat felt tight, and all she could do was nod for him to continue.

  “You’ve always been there for me, and it’s something that I never wanted to end.”

  “It doesn’t have to,” Kate suggested. “You just have to stop being such a bitch.�
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  “Look at yourself every twenty-eight days and say that.” Tom snorted, prompting a choked laugh from Kate.

  “To be fair, though,” he went on, “I’ve been your fallback as well. Remember all those times you wanted to go out, you were dateless and didn’t want to go alone?”

  “True,” Kate agreed. “I guess over the years, we’ve each been as bad as the other.”

  “Yeah.” Tom nodded. “Still, this is you that I’ve hurt. You’re not other people to me; you’re Kate.” He reached over to take her hand. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t talk about Michael with you more. I knew, the last time we spoke, that he was maybe something special, but I guess I wasn’t ready to face up to it.”

  “Well, you faced up to it today,” Kate said, holding up her glass of wine.

  “I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks after all,” he replied, chinking his glass against hers. “So,” he continued after they had sipped their wine, “what do you think he’s doing now?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure. We had talked about going to the market, but I’m not sure he’ll do that now. Maybe he’ll do some work.”

  “Sounds boring.” Tom pulled a face. “Why don’t you give him a call? Judging by the way he was looking at you earlier, I’m sure he’ll come a-runnin’.”

  ~~~

  Michael had set a good pace for his jog, but the more he thought about Alistair and Tom, the angrier he got. He picked up the pace, running faster now.

  Alistair had upset Kate, Tom had been an insulting prick, and here he was running laps in a damn park because he had wimped out of the equation. Furious at himself, he ran faster still, ignoring the pain as his muscles and lungs began to burn.

  Two circuits later he saw the park entrance in the distance and began to slow his pace. By the time he stopped, he was gasping for breath. He bent over double with his hands braced on his knees, gulping down air and trying not to throw up. He felt like shit. After a long time, he felt able to stand up without passing out. He limped over to a nearby bench and did some cool-down stretches. He wondered what Kate was doing, and fumbled in his pocket for his phone, quickly realizing he didn’t have it. He cursed under his breath as he left the park, resolving to call her as soon as he got home.

  He needed to see his girl, and then he’d feel a lot better.

  ~~~

  “Voicemail,” Kate announced, putting her phone down on the table. “He’s either busy or he’s gone out and forgotten it.”

  Tom put a hand over his heart. “Is such a thing even possible?”

  Kate gave him an amused look. “Yes, it’s true—there are people out there that can actually function without a cell phone.”

  “Next you’ll be telling me there isn’t a Santa,” Tom protested.

  “He’ll call when he gets back to his phone,” Kate said, ignoring Tom as she shot her phone another glance. She hoped he was okay. She groaned and put her head in her hands. “Crap, shit, fu—”

  “Whoa there,” Tom said. “What brought that on?

  “I’ve just realized,” Kate groaned, her head in her hands, “I only just told Michael about our history this morning.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And then we show up at the store and you’re there acting like …” Kate glanced at Tom, who had enough self-preservation to look chastened. “…the way you did. And then he leaves and I take off with you. How does that look?”

  Tom considered that. “Hate to say it, kiddo, but not good.”

  Kate gave him a solemn nod. “Not good at all.”

  “So, it’s getting serious?”

  “Think so,” Kate confirmed, sipping at a Coke. The wine had proved too much and she had moved onto something soft, much to Tom’s disgust.

  “Well, that’s good. So long as he treats you right, I promise to be on my best behavior.” Tom nodded. “Think he’ll put a ring on your finger?”

  Kate laughed, and then jumped as her phone rang. “Well, my phone is ringing; does that count?” She snatched it up and smiled when she saw Michael’s name on the screen.

  “Hey,” she greeted in a soft voice.

  “How’s my girl?” Michael asked, his heart in his throat. Although the walk home had cooled him down from his run, his pulse was jumping.

  “All good,” Kate answered, “but I miss you. What are you doing?”

  “I went out for a run and forgot my phone,” he admitted, smiling when he heard her gurgle of laughter.

  “I told Tom that’s what must’ve happened. How are you feeling now? Do you want a recovery drink?”

  “That sounds good. Where are you?” Michael nodded when she told him the name of the bar. “No problem. Give me time to shower and change, and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Promise?”

  “I’m on my way,” Michael said. “And Kate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “I’m sure. It’s all good, you’ll see.”

  “See you soon,” Michael promised, and was still grinning when they hung up. He loped toward the bathroom.

  Kate snapped her phone shut and beamed at Tom. “He’s on his way.”

  “He’d be crazy not to,” Tom said.

  ~~~

  Michael paused in the doorway, looking for Kate as his eyes adjusted to the light. He’d showered and changed in record time, sprinting down the stairs and into the first taxi he saw.

  Tom saw him first and nearly choked on his next mouthful of wine. He had been so ready to dislike him at the store that he hadn’t paid him any attention. Now that he and Kate had cleared the air, he was feeling slightly drunk and quite at ease with the world.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered. “Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure he’s straight? Because if there’s any margin for error at all, I’m so there.”

  Kate twisted in her chair and waved when she saw Michael. Glancing back over her shoulder, she shot Tom a smug smile.

  “Figures.” Tom watched as Michael’s face lit up with a grin when he saw Kate and strode through the crowd toward them. It didn’t escape Tom’s notice that a couple of other bar patrons had noticed Michael as well. Michael was oblivious to all of this as he made a beeline for where Kate was waiting, bending down to kiss her cheek as he grabbed a vacant chair and took a seat.

  Michael’s smile dimmed to wary courtesy as he nodded at Tom. “Hello again.”

  “Be nice,” Kate warned Tom in an undertone as he extended a hand toward Michael.

  “Michael, I believe you met my evil bitch twin earlier. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Tom,” he said with a smile that was equally cautious.

  “Evil twin, huh?” Michael’s lips curled into a more genuine smile this time.

  “You’d be amazed how much he gets around,” Tom said with a solemn nod.

  Kate sniffed the air, found it was friendly, and was pleased. As Tom and Michael fell into conversation, she smiled into her glass. She sat back in her seat, smiling when Michael unconsciously moved his seat closer so that he could drape his arm around her shoulders. A waiter approached their table to take Michael’s drink order, and while he was occupying himself with the menu, Tom caught Kate’s eye and winked. Kate felt as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders. It was still early days, but the initial steps had been taken.

  “So, Michael,” Tom was saying, “I know Kate and I have cleared the air, but there’s just one thing I have to say to you before we move on and put all this behind us.”

  “I’m listening.” Michael nodded.

  “Hurt her, and I will beat you to death with one of her industrial baking trays,” Thomas said in a matter of fact tone. Michael looked at him in askance, and he shrugged. “A vague disclaimer is no one’s friend.”

  “It won’t happen,” Michael said in a firm voice. “I know what I want.”

  Tom gave an imperceptible flinch at the obvious barb in Michael’s answer, before swallowing hard and holding up his glass in a toast.
“I believe you,” he said at last.

  Kate looked at Michael, who simply leaned forward and kissed her.

  “So do I,” she answered.

  Kate watched as the two men took the first tentative steps of friendship toward each other. Wariness was evident on both sides, but for the time being, any animosity or insecurity was put aside for the sake of the woman that sat between them.

  “All good?” Tom asked Kate in a quiet voice when Michael went to the bar. She looked up to see Tom watching her with caution.

  “All good.”

  “You look happy with this guy,” he said after a pause. “He seems to really care about you.”

  “I hope so,” Kate said, glancing over to where Michael stood at the bar.

  “As long as he treats you right, I won’t interfere,” Thomas offered. “But I can’t say I’m not jealous as hell.”

  Kate felt something in her chest relax at last. It felt as if the worst had been confronted and dealt with and now she could move on.

  Chapter 18

  Procrastination and Pizza

  Wren kept her head down and focused on her footsteps, making a game of not stepping on any cracks in the pavement. Next she amused herself by counting dogs and seeing how many businessmen were wearing colorful ties. Fishing in her bag, she sighed as her hands came up empty, and crossed to the other side of the street as she saw the familiar booth ahead.

  “Hey, Betty,” Wren greeted the elderly woman as she approached the newsstand.

  “Hey, yourself,” Betty replied with a gimlet smile. “I suppose you’re after the usual.”

  “You know it.” Wren nodded, digging out some bills from her wallet as Betty slid a copy of InStyle magazine and a pack of gum toward her.

  “Good weekend?” Betty made conversation as she dug out some coins.

  “Not bad.” Wren shrugged.

  “And that young man of yours, how’s that going?” Betty slapped the change into Wren’s outstretched hand and leaned her hip against the counter.

  “Who told you?” Wren gave her a look of amazement.

  “No one had to.” Betty winked. “But that’s some love bite you’ve got on your neck there, kid.”