by Caitie Quinn
Jenna had set down her Diet Coke and was watching us like a tennis match on crack. “This sounds even more dangerous than the kitten situation.”
Max nodded. “This culprit had sharper claws.”
Now he was just out of line. “How would you know?”
“Excuse me.” Jenna leaned forward. “Could you guys slow down a bit?”
That’s when I noticed she’d pulled out a little red notebook again. Ben shook his head like he knew what was going to happen next.
“Max,” Jenna tapped her pen against her chin. “Did you arrest Kasey last night?”
“If I arrested Kasey, would she have been here bright and early to assault another inanimate object?”
I kicked him under the table. “Oh look. A third inanimate object I attacked this week.”
“Is there something you two would like to tell us?” Jenna smiled what I’m sure she thought was a reassuring smile, but I saw the evil pixie gleam underneath.
I eyed the notebook. I eyed Jenna’s smile. “No.”
“Well, actually—”
I kicked Max under the table again.
“—No.”
“Max, I’ll give you twenty dollars to tell me what’s going on.”
Ben laughed. “Twenty dollars is a lot for Jenna.”
“Don’t.” I warned under my breath.
Max gave me this look that told me I was in a lot of trouble. “I told you to behave.”
“I was behaving. That wasn’t my fault.”
“What wasn’t?” Jenna prompted, her pen leaving an inky dot across her page.
I watched him make the decision, watched him fold it back up in his head and put it away.
“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to disclose some of what goes on at work.”
It was silly, but I was thankful. Jenna was the first girl I really felt I could be friends with since moving here. I’d had classmates in grad school I Facebooked with. You know, the people you studied with, but outside of class everyone was so busy with work and family and keeping it together that you didn’t hang out. At work, I stepped into a manager role right away and had to keep a bit of distance from the other people in their twenties because a bunch of them reported to me.
But, glancing at Jenna and the life she had, I could see myself trying to wedge my way into their merry little band.
You know, if they didn’t decide I was certifiably insane first.
Just as I was trying to come up with the next topic of conversation to get things moving as quickly as possible away from my bare-butted breaking-and-entering situation, the pizza showed up.
Thank goodness for small favors.
With the food came some type of ongoing toppings argument I could barely follow until we were down to the last slice.
“Ben, are you going to need the van again today?” I dipped my pizza crust in ranch dressing as they all looked at me funny.
I wasn’t going to defend myself. It was good and that’s all the excuse I needed.
“No. Next weekend I’ll have to come by and do some more packing. But I think we got enough out of your way that you can start to settle in, right?”
“Definitely.” I was in awe. He’d even cleaned. I’d been able to smell the bleach when I’d gotten there that morning. “So, I’ll drop you guys all back at Ben’s, get my stuff from Jason’s, and return the van if no one else needs to move anything.”
“Wait.” Jenna set her pizza down. I’d already learned when she wanted to discuss something she got rid of whatever was in her hands. “You have to go to that guy’s place?”
“Most of my stuff was already there.”
“How much stuff?”
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it—not much since Craigslist had snatched up most of my belongings.
“Only five boxes.”
“All your clothes fit in five boxes?”
“Well, plus one box of shoes, some books, and don’t forget the two suitcases we moved today. But yeah, that’s about it.”
“I’ll go with you.” Jenna’s hands had fisted on the table. I almost wanted to see what it was like to set a hundred pounds of rage loose on someone. The whole world probably underestimated the Power of the Pixie.
“You don’t have to do that.” Part of me really wanted her nowhere near this. To not meet Jason and see what an idiot I was. One of them had already seen that in action. The other part did not want to go alone.
“Oh, I’m coming. That’s what friends are for.” She picked up her pizza. Obviously, that was the end of the discussion.
“I’m coming too.” Ben shrugged. “Someone has to move the boxes. Plus, if Jenna’s going to go on the offensive, someone’s gotta move Jenna.”
“Hey. You know how I feel about bullies.”
Ben leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “That’s why I said I’d go too. Not that I didn’t think you should go.”
“Great.” Max tossed his napkin on his plate and stood. “One more stop and we’re done for the day.”
I watched him head toward the men’s room while Ben and Jenna discussed where they were going to put all Ben’s clothes they couldn’t store for the next three weeks.
Somehow, without even noticing it, I’d gotten a posse—and a pretty rocking one at that.
Life was looking up.
TWELVE
We pulled up to the curb and parked the van in a commercial loading zone.
“I’ll wait here in case a cop comes by.” Max slid the side door open and hopped out. “It’s probably best if I stay out of sight. Who knows what that idiot will accuse you of if you show up with me in tow?”
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. But, it was probably true. I could see another 911 call in our future if Jason saw Max. He’d probably call in a counter-terrorist group on a conspiracy report.
We rang and went through the whole who-is-it-it’s-me thing and a long pause before Jason finally rang us up. He probably didn’t know if he wanted my stuff out more than he didn’t want to deal with me.
His building—the one that had seemed so clean and modern just three days ago—felt sterile and ugly now. The warm charm of Jenna’s world had ruined me forever.
I’d expected Jason to be waiting at the door, my boxes there and ready to go. But when we got to his floor, the door was shut. With an internal eye-roll at the power play, I slid the key he’d given me into the lock and turned.
Or attempted to turn it.
He’d managed to change the locks in the seventyish hours since our fond farewell. Heck, he’d probably had it done before we even had dinner.
What did he think? I was going to copy the key and break in and steal his hidden collection of weird Hallmark cards?
Maybe.
Orrr not.
I pounded on the door, counted to thirty, and pounded again.
“I’m not really seeing the draw yet.” Ben said under his breath before Jenna smacked him in the gut.
One door down on the opposite side opened.
Great.
“Hi Mrs. Gershwin. How are you?”
“What’s all the racket you’re making? Kasey Lane, why are you pounding on that door?”
“Sorry, Mrs. Gershwin. I’m just here to pick up my stuff.”
Her gaze moved from me to Jenna and Ben and back. “Finally left the jerk, did ya? Can’t say I’m surprised. Should have done it forever ago. No good that one. All selfishness. Why don’t you just let yourself in? I’ll come down if you need someone to witness you don’t take anything that isn’t yours.”
“Well, he’s in there. But, he’s changed the lock.”
“In my day, a man wouldn’t have changed the lock on his woman unless she was bringing home something besides the groceries. You can do better. Is this one single?” She pointed a shaky finger at Ben.
“Nope. He’s taken by the very dangerous pixie behind me. Definitely not a woman to cross.”
“Those are the best kind.” She stepped back toward h
er door, sticking a foot out to keep her Yorkie inside. “Good to have at your back. Well, you take care kiddo.”
Her door closed behind her with a solid thud, the sound of her TV blaring turned back up.
“That’s the nicest that woman has ever been to me.”
“Really? She seemed to like you.”
Or was just really glad to see me gone.
“So, what do you think we should do?”
It had to have been five minutes since we’d rung the bell and been let inside. Jason knew we were just standing out in his hall. He probably thought I was alone and getting frustrated and upset. It was definitely a power move.
It was time to shove every piece of assumption down his throat. I bet the door would open pretty darn quickly then.
There were two things Jason hated, and he’d already had one this week because of me.
“Laugh.”
“What?”
“Laugh. Loud. Like we’re joking around and I’m telling you the funniest story you’ve ever heard. And it’s about Jason.”
He hated a scene—unless, of course, it was in defense of his car—and he hated not knowing what was going on.
Jenna started up, laughing like an insane person which actually got Ben laughing for real. Then Jenna started laughing because Ben was laughing at her which got me laughing. Then, I don’t know if I could have stopped if someone held a gun to my head. It was all so absurd.
The door cracked open and we all fell silent like it had been a cue. But, when I saw Jason standing there torn between annoyance, smugness, and blatant curiosity, I started giggling. Followed by Jenna’s little snort. Followed by Ben covering his mouth and turning to look down the hall.
“What?” Jason covered his curiosity with his typical arrogant demeanor.
“Nothing. We were just chatting about…” I let it hang out there as if I hadn’t been able to make up a lie. Which was true, but not for the reason he thought. “The building.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What about the building?”
“Oh.” I glanced at my dynamic duo and then back. “Well, it’s just, my new place is a lot cuter. But, you were never a cutsey kind of person, so this is probably perfect for you.”
He stared me down as if there was something I wasn’t telling him. There was a lot I wasn’t telling him, but none of it was his business.
“So, I wanted to pick up my stuff.”
You’d think I’d just said, I’d like to steal all your belongings the way he looked at me.
“You know,” I continued. “The boxes we’d brought over last weekend.”
“Right. Fine.” Jason pushed the door open.
I headed in, expecting again to find them neatly stacked by the door. That would have made too much sense.
“Where is everything?”
Jason waved a hand in the general direction of the bedroom. “Wherever you put it.”
I’d had enough. It wasn’t funny anymore and I didn’t see any reason for small talk. I brushed past him, aware of Jenna and Ben following close behind, and picked up the first box. Of course it was books. Ben took it from me before I managed to tip myself backward and get trapped under it.
“Why don’t we just carry everything out to the hall then make a couple trips?”
Jenna’s arms were crossed as she glared at Jason leaning against the bedroom door’s frame. “Are you sure?”
I glanced at Jason again. “Yup. I just want to get out of here.”
He gave me that smirk—the one I’d been mistaking for a smile for the last few years. In that moment I was sure it wasn’t that I needed to get away from him. It wasn’t that my heart was so broken that this was killing me. It was that I’d just realized how annoying he was, and really, why put up with that when you can just leave?
We moved all the boxes while Jason watched, probably making sure we didn’t lift anything from his room. With three of us and five boxes it wasn’t such a bad trip. Ben and I went back for the last two while Jenna paced out front giving Max the rundown of what an idiot I’d dated.
And maybe what an idiot I’d had to have been to date him.
When we’d put everything in the van, I slammed the door with a happy expectation of never seeing Jason again.
“So, did you flatten anything while you were up there? Did he have an air mattress or something you could unplug the nozzle on?”
Even Ben just looked at him like he was an idiot.
But, at least this idiot wasn’t mine to deal with.
And, as we pulled from the curb, I had to admit, not even a little part of me felt sad as I watched the address I’d planned to call home disappear down the street behind us.
THIRTEEN
I was lying in bed, listening to the peaceful sounds of a neighborhood that didn’t abut the highway, when my phone rang.
I was shockingly unsurprised to see it was Jenna.
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay and had everything you needed.”
Of course she did. I’m not sure what she would have done if I said I didn’t have something, but it was nice to be checked on.
“Yup. All set.” I stretched and glanced out the window at new leaves shifting to yellow-orange on the trees hiding the building behind us. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been in…years.”
I thought back trying to remember the last time I truly felt at ease and couldn’t remember a better time than tonight.
“Great. Just, you know…checking we didn’t scare you off.” Jenna gave a little laugh as if she were joking, but I could hear the nerves behind it.
It hadn’t dawned on me that she was serious about trying to find girlfriends. And, with Ben leaving, she was kind of in the same boat…not really, but the end result was still her guy would be gone. Of course he wasn’t a controlling, manipulative, cruel SOB. She was apparently way smarter about this guy thing than I was.
“Nope. Not scared off. Maybe a bit nervous’ed off at first, but hey. You guys seem relatively harmless.”
“Well, you haven’t met Dane yet.” She gave a little laugh, wished me good night, and hung up.
This Dane guy must be something else…and still off limits.
Mental Note: No matter how hot Dane is, stay far, far away. Think hoopskirts.
~~*~~
Last night I dreamt of Max Darby.
That was truly the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to be waking up with a smile on my face thinking about the way he handled tough situations with humor, or the deep dimple that sinks into his right cheek each time he smiles, or the fact that he knew how to maneuver around Jenna’s quirks…or him and kittens, darn it.
The entire dream was about tons of calendars of stupid Officer Darby holding kittens.
White kittens. Grey kittens. Sleek kittens. Fluffy kittens. Kittens in little police hats.
It was absurd.
Okay, Subconscious. I get it. He’s a good guy.
But, not for me. I was not going to fall for a guy like Max Darby. I wanted security and routine and similar tastes and values and hobbies.
I did not want a cocky cop who seemed to thrive on mocking me.
So, Subconscious, stick that in your vault and throw away the key. I had a plan to succeed as an independent woman and no guy, no matter how flat his stomach or how deep his dimple, was going to run this train off the tracks.
~~*~~
So, this was going to be fun.
Not.
“Hello?” My mom’s high, stilted voice came over the phone. She was one of those people who even with a cell phone I’d programmed with my name and picture still acted like she didn’t know who was on the other end when she picked up.
“Hi, Mom. It’s me.” I closed my eyes thinking about the last few days and followed up with, “Kasey.”
You know—in case she didn’t know me was her only daughter.
“Kasey. This is a nice surprise.”
That’s not a bad start.
Now I just have to break it to her that the guy she thought was perfect, was…not so much.
My mom and the male gender as a whole were on some very rocky ground. Their relationship had turned a bit sour a few years ago. Ok, a few decades ago. Things were rolling along just fine, my mom not being bitter at all—or so she said—about giving up her potential career as a backup singer to be a wife and mother.
When I was six, having a perfectly good day in kindergarten (it was my turn to get pushed on the swings and I’d just gotten an underdog so high my shoe flew off) my mom showed up at the school, damp tissue in one hand, the letter from my dad in the other, and dragged me home to explain that I was now fatherless.
The problem wasn’t so much that he left, since he hadn’t been around a lot as far as my younger self could remember. The problem was more my mother’s perceived reasons for him leaving.
My dad was a company man. He’d seen my mother at a club, told her she was pretty and smelled like spring flowers and chased her until she said yes.
I’ve heard the tale of their marriage more than most girls have heard Cinderella. Beautiful, young, up-and-coming singer marries beneath her only to find out that two worlds colliding don’t make sparks, they just implode. Aged beauty is left on her own to raise daughter while teaching her to never make the same mistakes she made when she herself was but a lass.
The end.
Yup. For my mom, that is literally the end. There’s no more grand adventures or a chance to go back to school or a new job. She’s just going to stay the personal aid to Mrs. Ferske and avoid all men for the rest of her life.
Shockingly enough, she loved Jason.
Proof that while bitterness isn’t hereditary, maybe bad decision making is.
“I hope I’m catching you at a good time.” I really, really hope so.
“Yup. I’m just about to reorganize the tax files, but…” Mom’s voice drifted off as if she dropped the phone and doesn’t realize it.
This could go on for a bit, so I brush my teeth. Might as well fill that part of the morning with good hygiene.
“Sorry about that. I’m back. I was trying to use that ear thing. Mrs. Ferske likes to call me when I’m driving, but this thing never works. Anyway, how are things with you?”