Cake: A Love Story

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Cake: A Love Story Page 5

by J. Bengtsson


  “That is more like it. Now, I want to hear every detail of your conversation.”

  So I recounted every moment of my conversation with Jake for my mom. She was horrified that I pulled a prank on Jake and even more appalled that I’d told him my poop/puke story. But she loved that he seemed to think it was funny. She was also pleased when I told her what a nice, normal guy Jake seemed to be. I told her how Jake’s brother had ‘saved’ him from Sarah but when he tried to run intervention during our conversation, Jake sent him away. What she thought was most surprising was how easily Jake seemed to open up to me. And I agreed with her. For a guy who was supposed to be so damaged, Jake McKallister sure did seem to have it all together.

  Chapter Two

  Jake

  It had already been a long 24 hours when I walked through the festively decorated double doors of the Mexican restaurant. I was frustrated and on edge. Everything had worked against me today. And it wasn’t for lack of effort. It was just one of those days where you take one step forward then two steps back. It was like the universe didn’t want me in Arizona. I wish I could have had a buffer and left a day earlier but due to a tight touring schedule that just wasn’t possible. So, instead, I flew for 21 fucking hours before landing in Arizona! I started my day in Austria. Then spent a three-hour delay in Frankfurt due to a threatened airline strike. That caused me to arrive in Los Angeles too late to catch my connecting flight to Arizona. So I was booked on another flight that made an inconvenient stop in Las Vegas first. Just thinking about it pissed me off.

  As a general rule I didn’t like being late. I especially didn’t like being late to my brother’s wedding rehearsal. It made me look like I didn’t care. Which I did or I wouldn’t have made that shitty trip to begin with.

  I stifled a yawn. Even though I’d slept most of the Atlantic crossing, I was still tired. Four months of non-stop touring was taking a toll on my body, especially my knee. I knew the signs and I had them all. I’d been dealing with this goddamn knee for years. I also knew I was past due for another knee replacement surgery. I’d been putting it off because I just didn’t have the time to be laid up for months but, something told me that by the end of this tour, I would have no other choice but to go under the knife. Thinking about my knee made me think about how I got the injury and that, in turn, made me think about him. I hated thinking about him. It put me in a bad-fucking mood. I took a deep breath and tried to redirect my focus elsewhere.

  I yawned again. Damn, why was I so tired all the time? Of course, I knew the answer. I’d spent the better part of the last seven years on the road. I sometimes felt like I was getting too old for the gypsy lifestyle. I needed time away from the grind and the constant schedules. Every year I promised myself that I would take a much-needed break, and every year I broke that lofty promise.

  The restaurant had a festive, party atmosphere but I was anything but cheerful. Of course, I had no plans to let my sour mood ruin the party. I was a pro at concealing my true feelings. I’d had years of training and had learned to work a crowd with the best of them. No one liked a miserable asshole. If I’d learned anything in my twenty-three years, it was how to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. With that in mind, I put my game face on and approached the hostess. Her eyes got all big and she looked at me with shock.

  “Hi. I’m here for the rehearsal dinner,” I explained. “Can you point me in the right direction?”

  The hostess just stared at me, unable; it seemed, to process what I was saying. She blinked several times, possibly trying to convince herself that she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. I waited patiently. I was used to this reaction…very used to it. I’d tried many approaches to this situation in the past but had come to the conclusion that it was best to just wait it out.

  “You…you are Jake McKallister,” she ignored my question in order to state the obvious. Her eyes danced with excitement.

  I wanted to tell her not to waste her energy because, really, I wasn’t worth her enthusiasm but instead I nodded and gave her a quick smile. Over the years I’d perfected responses to the most common questions I got from people. I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, or cocky, or uninterested but I also didn’t want to encourage a conversation.

  “The rehearsal dinner, for McKallister? Do you know where I go?” I repeated.

  “Oh…yeah I’m sorry…um…I just…you…um…it’s in the back. See the green wall? Just there,” the hostess replied, slightly out of breath.

  I smiled and said, “Thanks.” As I walked passed her I heard her say, “Oh my God.” I focused on the green wall as I made my way through the restaurant. I purposefully avoided looking into the shocked faces of the diners. Making eye contact only encouraged interaction. Goddamn! When had I become so jaded?

  A sweaty overweight man wearing a tan suit, and what appeared to be three pounds of jewelry, rushed up to me. “Jake, so nice to have you here at El Rancherito,” he announced then reached out to take my hand.

  He gave me a creepy smile and looked me up and down. I had an instant feeling of unease. If there was one thing my unfortunate childhood had afforded me, it was the ability to pick the creeps out of a crowd. Against my better judgment but not wanting to cause a scene, I reluctantly shook his big meaty paw.

  “My name is Juan,” he revealed. “And I’m the manager here. Anything you want…anything at all…just ask.” Juan said this with such smarmy eagerness that I really did believe he would do anything I asked, legal or not. I nodded, pulling my hand away.

  “What a surprise to see you here. This wedding, is it for a family member?”

  “Yes. My brother,” I responded.

  “Oh wow…I didn’t make the connection. But, of course, McKallister,” Juan said, giving me another full body once over. What the fuck!?! I wanted to nail him in the nuts. It’s not that I’m homophobic…I get hit on by gay guys occasionally…and usually it doesn’t bother me. But this douche…he was sizing me up like some pedophile getting off on the idea of what happened to me as a kid. I ran into guys like him occasionally. It was just a vibe they gave off and Juan definitely had that vibe going on. “If I’d known I would have prepared better for your arrival. Forgive me.”

  Yeah, like preparing some basement dungeon, you fucking perv. Holding my tongue, I simply nodded and asked, “Is this the room that the rehearsal dinner is in?”

  “Yes…yes it is,” Juan affirmed. He was abruptly silenced by a shrill scream. I turned to see a teenage girl rushing toward me.

  “This way,” Juan instructed, pointing toward a decorated door. I opened it and slipped through just as pervy Juan caught the screeching girl. I shut the door behind me, thankfully trapping both of them on the other side. The commotion caused every member of the wedding party to glance my way as I came in the room. I always seemed to know how to make an entrance, whether I liked it or not. I dropped my bag and set my guitar against the wall just as the door swung back open and the girl from the restaurant burst in. Kyle, who had already been on his way over, rushed toward her. Juan came up from behind in hot pursuit. Both grabbed her a split second before she latched onto my arm. Juan slipped his arms around her waist and carried the kicking and screaming girl out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Trying hard not to let my annoyance play out over my face, I forced a smile and turned toward the startled faces of the wedding party…so much for my plan to slip in quietly and keep a low profile. But then, who was I kidding? Even though I wanted the focus to be on my brother and his bride to be, it was unrealistic to think that the wedding guests would feel the same way. Ignoring their stares, I walked over and greeted Mitch and met my future sister-in-law before retreating to the relative safety of my family. I hadn’t seen most of them since I started my current tour four months ago. It was great to just relax and laugh with my brothers.

  After dinner a woman walked up to me. She was the picture of cool confidence as she flashed me a perfect smile. Her blue eyes sparkled under a thick layer
ing of mascara. Her blond hair was long and straight…her nails perfectly manicured. She was wearing skintight jeans and a cleavage-baring top…to a wedding rehearsal dinner no less. It told me everything I needed to know about her. She was an easy mark and she wanted me to know it. My eyes diverted directly to her impressive rack. She smiled as I looked up.

  “Hi, I’m Sarah,” She said, batting her eyes. “I’m a huge fan.”

  “Oh thanks,” I replied. She proceeded to tell me about the numerous concerts of mine that she’d been to. I nodded and we chatted about a couple of them. I pretended to know what she was talking about but, in reality, I’d done hundreds of concerts in my years as a professional musician. There was no way for me to remember specific dates. The entire time Sarah talked, she shook her breasts at me. To say it was a distraction was an understatement. Sarah was hot and I was not immune to her obvious charms but I met women like her everywhere I went. They were a dime a dozen in my line of work and although this one was clearly attractive, I didn’t come all the way to Mitch’s wedding to nail some random chick then try to avoid her the rest of the weekend. No, this was a family weekend and I didn’t want any distractions.

  Once she started getting all touchy-feely with me, I signaled discreetly to Keith and he immediately came over and pulled me away from Sarah. I went back to my family and spent the next five minutes being grilled by my mom about what I was eating, how much sleep I was getting and if I was being sexually responsible by wearing a condom. When my mom started inquiring about my sex life that was when I decided to seek out new company. I headed over to talk to Mitch, who was standing with his mother.

  “Jake!” she said with a smile on her face. “I don’t know if you remember me…”

  “Of course. April, Mitch’s mom.”

  “Wow, I can’t believe you remember…what has it been, thirteen years? I think you were maybe nine or ten when I last saw you.”

  “At the water park, right?”

  “Oh my gosh, you do have a good memory.”

  “He wasn’t a baby mom,” Mitch laughed.

  I grinned.

  “This is my daughter Melanie,” she said as a teenage girl joined our conversation.

  “Oh yeah, damn. You were like two-years-old the last time I saw you. You’re Grace’s age right?” I asked the teenage girl.

  She looked at me all excited and flushed. She just nodded.

  April grinned at her daughter’s reaction. “She’s a huge fan.”

  “Cool. You like rock music? Most girls your age are more into pop.”

  “No, not me,” Melanie said. “I love your music. My mom took me to one of your Arizona concerts last year. It was the bomb.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Mitch? I would have gotten you backstage passes.”

  Melanie looked at her mom accusatorily. “I told her to but she refused.”

  “In my defense, we hadn’t seen you for years. We didn’t even know if you remembered us. It seemed rude to ask.”

  “And then I called Mitch to ask but he refused too,” Melanie said, not letting it go. Clearly this was a sore spot with her.

  I glanced at my brother, confused. He looked uncomfortable. Why the hell would he refuse to ask me for tickets? Did he think I would deny him? Fuck, what kind of person did he think I was?

  Not wanting to get into it with him on the day before his wedding, I just said, “I get a certain number of tickets per show to give to friends and family and, if no one asks for them, they just go unused. It’s kind of a bummer. Next time I’m in town I expect you guys to call me for tickets, okay?”

  “Well…if you insist,” April said smiling. “And next time you’re in town, I would love to make you a home-cooked meal. I’m sure you get tired of takeout on the road.”

  “Oh yeah…definitely.”

  “And I’ll invite Mitch and Kate and we will make a party out of it.”

  “Okay, that sounds good.”

  Mitch’s fiancée, Kate, walked up. She kissed my brother. The looks on their faces, the obvious love they had for each other, gave me pause. It was an emotion I’d never known and probably never would.

  “Sorry to disturb you all,” Kate said. “But can I steal Jake away for a minute? I want to introduce him to the bridesmaid he’s paired up with for the wedding.”

  “Oh okay, sure,” I responded politely as I allowed her to lead me away.

  “You know Jake, I wanted to thank you for flying all the way here for our wedding. I know it wasn’t easy for you and you had to rearrange tour dates and everything.”

  “No, it was fine. I wanted to come.”

  “Well I’m just really happy to finally meet you…and the rest of your family too.”

  “You haven’t met my family?” I asked in surprise.

  “Nope…not until today.”

  “Not even my dad?”

  Kate shook her head. “I’ve wanted to but Mitch is…you know…”

  No. I didn’t know. I guess I’d been on the road so much that I hadn’t really paid much attention to family dynamics. Was there a rift between Mitch and our family?

  “Huh,” I replied.

  “Anyway I’m just happy everyone is here,” she said then pointed to a young woman with brown hair who stood with her back to us. “That’s my friend.”

  Kate called to her and she turned around. To be honest, when I first laid eyes on Casey Caldwell, I looked right through her. Nothing about her stood out to me…not because she wasn’t attractive but because I couldn’t be bothered to invest myself in another stranger. I was just going through the motions…distracted. The required pleasantries were as much as I was willing to give. Lately that had really just been my life.

  The introduction led to an unbearably awkward silence. Great. Get me the hell out of here. Trying to come up with something to say to my wedding partner, I asked her some lame question about the wedding while I searched for my brothers in the crowd, hoping they would come and rescue me sooner, rather than later. I wasn’t even listening to her answer…until she did something so unusual, so out of the blue that I was forced to pay attention. Casey Caldwell played a joke on me.

  It might not seem like a big deal to most, but to me it was a downright shocking thing to do. People who met me for the first time just assumed, because of my dark past, that I couldn’t take a joke. It was a reaction that I’d grown accustomed to and one I’d come to expect. Only those closest to me knew I had a good sense of humor.

  But here was some random girl playing a joke on me! I was more than a little intrigued. All the sudden this indistinguishable stranger blossomed before my very eyes. My fatigue vanished. For the first time in a long time I was wide awake. And I was shocked to discover just how beautiful this girl standing before me was. How had I not seen her before? God, those shiny brown eyes, that smoking hot body, and those dimples! I was mesmerized. As if making up for lost time, I hung on her every word with unmasked enthusiasm. Casey probably thought I was some inexperienced little boy the way I was smiling and flirting. But I couldn’t help myself. The way she called me out…her witty comebacks…her boldness…I was awestruck. She was unlike any girl I’d ever met and I felt an immediate and intense attraction to her. She had it all…funny, smart, confident, interesting, and sexy. And the way she interacted with me…there was no fussing, no excited babbling, no declarations of undying devotion…Casey just talked to me like I was any other person…completely unaffected by my stardom. It was clear that she wasn’t a groupie. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if Casey was a fan and the idea of meeting a girl with a totally clean slate appealed to me more than I could ever say.

  When my mom called me away, I didn’t want to leave. It was such an odd reaction for me. Usually I couldn’t wait to get away from conversations with strangers but after ten minutes of talking to Casey, somehow, she was no longer in that category.

  Leaving the restaurant I was distracted, anxious…giddy.

  “What?” Kyle questioned, eyeing me suspiciously.<
br />
  “What do you mean what?” I asked.

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “How am I acting weird?”

  “I don’t know…you’re like all cheerful and shit.”

  “So you think it’s weird when I’m happy?” I asked.

  “Sort of, yeah.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. His assessment annoyed me.

  “So?”

  “So, what?”

  “Jesus Christ Jake! What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I just met that girl,” I mumbled. “Damn…she’s a smoke show.”

  Kyle eyed me skeptically. “Yeah well I hate to burst your bubble, J, but she was hitting on me earlier.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, my stomach dropped. I was way more disappointed than I should have been after just meeting the girl.

  “Yeah, during the rehearsal.”

  “Casey was hitting on you?” I questioned, trying to clarify Kyle’s claim. It just didn’t seem like her but…God…how would I know? Maybe she was just putting on a show for my benefit.

  “I don’t know what her name was, dude, but her tits…damn.”

  “Wait are you talking about the brunette or the blond?”

  “The blond with the enormous…,” Kyle finished the sentence by holding his hands out like he was juggling melons.

  I felt instant relief. “I was talking about the brunette, Casey.”

  “The last girl you were talking to?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did she have big tits too?”

  “What’s it with you and big tits today Kyle?”

  “So…that would be a no,” Kyle grinned, ignoring my question.

  “Shut up. I don’t care about big tits. You know I’m more of an ass man. And before you ask…yeah, she had a nice ass.”

  “Well, to each his own…I prefer the busty blond myself.”

  I made a face. “You can have her.”

  “Oh wow thanks, bro, it’s so nice of you to give me your leftovers,” Kyle replied sarcastically.

  I ignored his comment.

 

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