“Okay,” I said.
“C’mon, Frankie, it would be fun and I can take you around L.A. You can go to the art galleries or shopping or….”
“Jake! I said yes.”
“Oh.” He paused for a moment. “I thought you’d be a harder sell. I’ll get the plane tickets for you.”
“It’s okay, I can pay for myself.”
“But Frankie, you’re a student, and I’ve got the dough.”
“It’s fine, really. You can take me out to dinner or whatever. I’ll get a flight on Thursday and come back Sunday.”
“Sounds good, or you can stay longer, I don’t have another game until Wednesday.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got class Monday,” I explained.
“Well… so you’re coming. Great!” I could sense he was smiling on the other end. I was smiling too.
“Hey Frankie, don’t forget your Kings jersey. You’ll have to wear that to the game.”
Jake was giving me fashion advice? “Uh, sure.”
“And could you bring those boots too?”
35. Changes
Jake
I loved getting back to L.A. and being with the team again. I figured we’d all pick up where we left off last year: our first playoff appearance since I joined the team. The Canucks had eliminated us, but now we had started off the season by beating them. Things looked good, and now we were home. I had shared a townhouse with Link and Domer for two years already, and we got along great. We all liked the same stuff: playing hard and partying hard.
“Hey guys,” Link came into the living room where Domer and I were gaming. “I need to talk to you about something….”
“Yo, whattup?” Domer wondered. We kept playing but I could tell it was something big. Link looked worried, and he normally didn’t give a shit about anything.
“I… uh, I want to move out,” Link said.
I dropped my controller and looked at him. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I want to move in with Ella,” he explained. Ella was this chick he had started dating during the summer. In the three weeks since we’d been back, he’d been talking about her nonstop.
“Ella? But she doesn’t even live here. Doesn’t she have a job in Madison?” Domer wondered.
Link looked pretty embarrassed. “We miss each other a lot. So, we’ve been talking and she’s willing to quit her teacher’s aide job and come down here to be with me. But I don’t think she should move in with three guys, so I’m looking for a place for the two of us.”
Neither Domer or I said anything. I guess we were stunned. Last season, Link was like the King of the Partiers, he was out all the time and scoring different chicks every weekend. Now it was like he was completely changed, and all because of Ella.
“Jesus, Link, you guys haven’t even been going out that long,” I said. Then I wondered if I should have said that. It wasn’t like I knew anything about this stuff.
“Aww, Cookie, Ella’s different. When you get to be my age, you’ll get it.”
He was acting like he was 20 years older; the guy was two years older than me and one year older than Domer.
Then Link got that goofy look on his face that he had a lot recently. “I mean, I’ll still hang out with you guys and everything, but you know, now that I’ve met Ella….”
I wondered what it was about Ella that made Link change so much? I had seen some photos, and she was really cute, but for sure he had gotten with girls that were hotter. Maybe I’d get it when I met her. The three of us discussed how it was all going to work out. The rent wasn’t a big deal of course, more that we’d miss having Link around because he was a riot. Of course these days, he was kinda boring because even when he came out, he was always texting/Skyping/calling Ella.
“Okay guys, I’ll let you know… but I figure I’ll be out of here by the end of October.” Then Link went to his room, probably to call Ella again.
“Man, he’s changed so much,” I said to Domer. “I don’t get that, I mean, I like being with chicks too, but bros first, right? Especially during the season.”
Domer shrugged, “Well, it happened pretty fast, sure, but eventually most guys settle down. So, you want to get another roommate?”
“It’s kinda late for that, isn’t it? I mean everyone on the team has a place to live already.”
“Well, except the guys who don’t know if they’re going to stick or not.”
I nodded, “That’s a good idea. It really helped me to live with someone who could show me the ropes.”
“Yeah, but you were 18, right? You didn’t know shit!” Domer laughed at me.
“We can play it by ear. If there’s a guy we get along good with, we can ask him.”
The next day after afternoon practice, the three of us came home for dinner. We usually ate out, but Marta, our maid, had been in that day and said she’d leave something for us.
“I smell chili!” I said when we walked in. Marta made a great chili, so I was a happy man.
“Yes!” said Link, happily. The three of us were all shitty cooks, so Marta took pity on us if the house wasn’t too messy. We hadn’t even had a party yet, so the place was in good shape.
“I’ve seen a couple of places already,” Link told us while we ate. “I think I’ll get Ella to look at them too. She’s coming this weekend.” Then he got a text and zoned out.
That reminded me of something, so I told Domer, “I invited Frankie down this weekend.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“No reason. But you saw her all summer, then in Vancouver, and now this weekend. That’s a lot.” He grinned at me.
“It’s no big deal,” I said. And I didn’t think it was.
“Wait!” Link jumped back into the conversation. “Did you say your girlfriend is coming for the weekend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I explained.
“But that’s great, Ella’s coming too. She comes in on Saturday morning. Our girlfriends could hang out together and go to the game and stuff! I was worried about what she was going to do while we had practice and stuff, but this is working out great. What’s your girlfriend’s name?”
“Frankie. But she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh. I don’t get it, so why is she coming then?”
“I dunno. I mean, she’s a friend, but she’s not my girlfriend or anything.”
“Are you sleeping together?” Link asked.
“Well, yeah.” There was no denying that we were having incredible sex, and after one night my roommates would know that.
“And you’ve never had a girl visit before. But she’s not your….”
“Forget it, Link,” Domer interrupted. “No one can understand the way Cookie’s mind works.”
On Thursday evening, I didn’t even recognize Frankie at the terminal. For starters she had her hair done up, she was wearing a blue dress and a jacket, and she looked way older. And secondly, there was this middle-aged guy walking beside her and talking away to her; at first I thought they were a couple, like one of those older guy/trophy wife couples.
Frankie didn’t really seem to be listening to him though, and when she saw me, she gave me this huge smile and ran across the terminal to greet me. She left the guy in mid-sentence and left her suitcases, too. She jumped up on me and gave me a big kiss.
“Jake,” Frankie said when she paused from kissing me, “I’m so happy to be here!”
“I’m glad you’re here too,” I told her. We went back and got her suitcases, and the old guy was looking me over and he didn’t look too impressed. She said goodbye to him and we took off for the parking lot.
“Who was that?” I wondered.
“Oh, some guy I met on the plane. Talk about stereotypes, he said he was a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon and gave me his card. Can you believe it, he told me my breasts looked very natural and he wondered where I had them done?” She rolled her eyes. “But that’s not even th
e best part, when I told him they were real, he wanted to feel them! For research purposes! Can you believe that?”
That was pretty nuts. Did that actually work with girls?
“Jake! I can see by the look on your face that you’re thinking of trying that line. It doesn’t work! And you don’t look like a doctor either, or even someone trustworthy.” Then she looked a little puzzled. “He offered to fix my nose. Do you think there’s anything wrong with my nose?” She presented her profile to me.
“No. Your nose looks great to me.” Frankie was real cute; why would anyone take all her parts separately when the big picture was so great? “How come you’re all dressed up?”
“Oh, I read that if you look good boarding, you can get upgraded to business class. And it worked.” She smiled in a satisfied way. “But then you meet the high class creeps, so I’m not sure if it’s worthwhile.”
“I like your hair better down,” I told her.
“Oh. Well, I can take it down,” she offered, lifting her hand up to the clip.
I shook my head, “Naw, I’d like to be the one to do that.” I put my arm around her, and kissed her on the back of the neck. I was getting hard just thinking about undressing her and unpinning her hair. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I didn’t have dinner yet.”
“Okay, what do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know, it’s my first night in L.A., so something different. Something I can’t get in Vancouver….”
“I know just the place,” I told her and we drove off.
Frankie wasn’t totally impressed with In-N-Out Burger, but she didn’t get all snotty about it, and she ate everything. It would have been better if we ate in rather than the drive-through, but I was in a hurry to get home and feel those all-natural tits myself.
36. Frankie Goes to Hollywood
I woke up in Jake’s bed, and blinked in the morning light. Los Angeles was the most exotic place I had ever been, and even the sun looked different: whiter and brighter than in Vancouver. And palm trees! I had never been any place with palm trees before. It was all so exciting.
I looked over at Jake; he was in a deep sleep, snoring with his mouth slightly open. Last night was incredible, and I hoped that his bedroom was soundproofed, or seeing his roommates this morning was going to be embarrassing. I slipped out of bed, and washed up in the bathroom. Jake hadn’t even given me time to unpack last night, so I quietly dug out some clothes, washed my face, and applied a little makeup.
I tiptoed out into the kitchen to investigate what I could make for breakfast. After Jake’s cottage, I was prepared for his bachelor pad in Hermosa Beach to be something pretty nice. It was a three-bedroom townhouse, he said they had rented it furnished and everything looked new and generic. Their priorities seemed to be completely masculine and adolescent: big beds, black leather couches, huge TV’s and gaming stuff. Also, they had a giant hot tub. The whole place was clearly Party Central, and I felt like I had been dropped into the Playboy Mansion, which, come to think of it, was in L.A. too.
Leftovers from our late dinner were still on the counter. I sighed a little. In my imagination, we would eat at some trendy ocean-side restaurant instead of take-out burgers and fries, animal-style. Whatever “animal-style” meant, it sounded more like how Jake liked to have sex.
Not surprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of food in the fridge. I went out and found a little bodega nearby; then I threw together some pancakes with fruit sauce and coffee. I had no idea when the guys would be up, so I started eating. All that exercise last night made me hungry.
The three roommates getting up were like the three bears. Luke was up first, but surprisingly he didn’t want any breakfast. “We’ve got a morning skate, and I don’t like to have too much food sitting in my stomach,” he explained as he looked wistfully at the pancake I was eating.
Next, Ryan shuffled into the kitchen. He didn’t have a problem eating breakfast, but even he didn’t eat that much, although he did have three cups of coffee. Then Jake came tumbling out of his room half-dressed, and ate all the remaining pancakes and fruit sauce.
I had assumed that since Jake had a game that night, we would hang around all day, but it turned out he was busy. He had the morning skate, team meetings, video review, a big lunch and then a pregame nap before getting to the rink early. Being a hockey player was a lot more work than I realized.
“Do you always have a nap?” I wondered. My brothers never had a nap before a hockey game, but they weren’t pros or anything.
“Yeah, all the players do,” Jake said as if everyone knew that.
“Actually, NBA players do it as well,” Ryan added. I must have been making a doubtful face. “It’s not like we’re lazy or anything.” Well, it wasn’t like they were tidying up or buying groceries in their spare time either.
“Okay, well, I’ll just do my own thing and come to the game later,” I said, pulling out my list of things I wanted to do in L.A.
“Is that a list?” Jake asked, with a pained note in his voice.
“Of course it’s a list. Do you know how many art museums there are here?”
“Uh, no,” responded Jake, sighing.
“What? It’s not like I’m making you go to them. Anyway, you’ve probably been to the big ones already.” Jake and his roommates looked at each and smirked, and I realized they had no clue about the art museums at all. Sometimes I got carried away by my love of art and assumed that everyone was the same. But realistically, I had to bribe my own friends to come to museums or galleries with me, usually by buying them lunch at the museum café.
“No wait, I think I did go into some downtown museum… to use the washroom!” Jake laughed as he went to get ready. I started planning the logistics of my day.
Jake came out dressed in a checked hoody, a scroll-patterned t-shirt and dark shorts with a faint stripe. He was wearing way too much pattern, and I winced a little, wondering if I should say something.
“Stop it, Frankie,” he warned me.
“Stop what?”
“Stop undressing me with your eyes, you little vixen. I have to go to practice and I can’t satisfy your oversexed desires right now.”
“What!” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Luke trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, twelve times last night wasn’t enough for you. But you’ll just have to wait until tonight. My naptime means sleeping, y’know.”
“You are so egotistical. And nuts!”
“There you go again, it’s always about me, my man parts and how much you want me.”
“Man parts?” I finally started giggling. Jake was such a goof.
“I’m just tryin’ to be polite here. You ready to go?”
And so we took off in Luke’s Infiniti SUV. They dropped me off on the way to the practice facility. L.A was a huge, sprawling city, and the guys warned me to allow enough time to get to the arena, so I had brought everything I needed for the whole day.
Since I was missing my Contemporary Art seminar, I had spoken to Robin, the teaching assistant, to get the assignment ahead of time. When she found out that I was coming to L.A., she got all excited and told me I should meet a friend of hers from undergrad who worked at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. “Frankie, Beatrice Mann would be an excellent person for you to talk to about your grad school plans. You definitely need to expand your horizons!” Robin thought that I needed to leave Vancouver for my Masters, declaring that getting your B.A. and M.A. at the same school was too incestuous.
So here I was at the LACMA, a place I’d wanted to tour anyway. The museum was on a campus of about ten buildings, and their mandate seemed to be about extending from art to social culture, including history, film and music. Since it was so extensive, I stuck to touring one contemporary art building and then met Beatrice for coffee.
Beatrice was completely different than Robin, who was a little hippy-dippy with patchwork jeans and floaty Indian tops. Beatrice was slim with severely slicked-back hair, chunk
y silver jewellery and a sculptural linen dress in a non-colour which looked like oatmeal or possibly bird poop. Her chicness was a little daunting, and I suddenly felt like a hick in a homemade dress, even if that dress was a pretty turquoise sateen sheath with a notched collar. But she immediately put me at ease, and had me laughing at her stories of famous and famously insane artists she had met, huge celebrity events at the museum, and Robin’s utter brilliance in undergrad.
“So Robin told me I’m supposed to give you advice on leaving U.B.C. for grad school. She thinks you need to get kicked out of the nest.”
“I’m prepared to leave Vancouver,” I told her. This was a fairly recent development, however. Spending the summer in Kingston had made me feel more confident about living away from home. And look, now I was here in the land of palm trees and sunshine!
“Well, you probably need to leave Canada, too. Have you considered coming to the States?”
“Not really. It’s pretty expensive to go to school here.”
“Hmm, Robin may not like it if I steer you away from the ivory tower, but I’ve always been more practical than she is. Did you know that here we have internship programs here at the museum? I recommend them highly. Having the work experience while you’re still at school would be very educating and show you more about what you want from grad school.”
That idea was dizzying. Would I even have enough credits to graduate? “Wow, it sounds great. But it would be expensive, do the internships pay at all?”
“A few are paid, but most are not. But if you already have relatives in Los Angeles, then you don’t have to worry about the expense of living here.”
“Uh, friends, not relatives.” I hadn’t told Robin the real reason for my trip, only that I had a chance to visit L.A. and stay for free.
“You can get school credits for the internships, of course. I’ll send you the link. And I hate to say it, but Canadians are always more impressed if you have experience in the States. I suppose it’s part of our national inferiority complex.” Beatrice shrugged; she had already told me that she was born and raised in Canada, but had an American mother and dual citizenship.
How The Cookie Crumbles Page 22