“You are not going to believe my night!” she squeals.
She recounts dinner and his confession of having feelings for her. She tells every detail of their kiss that brought her to tears. It is all so beautiful. I’m beginning to get a little jealous that she can talk so freely about her budding relationship, but then she says something that stops my thoughts in their tracks. She says his name—Cohen. Did she really just say Cohen?
Trying to hide my shock, I get up from the couch and move to the kitchen for a glass of water. “Where is he from?”
“He lives in Washington.”
Alright, Caroline. Be cool. Don’t freak out. “That’s awesome. Where does he work?”
“The Bushing Company.”
Oh my god! This can’t be possible! What does she know about him? Should I tell her? This could get really bad. I’m feeling sick to my stomach.
“Why do you ask?” June says with concern in her eyes.
“No reason. Listen, I need to get to bed. I have an early day tomorrow. I’m so glad you had a good night.” I give her a tight hug.
“Are you okay?” June questions.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
As I walk down the hall to my room, I grab my phone and text my brother.
What the hell are you doing with June? —Caroline
What are you talking about? —Cohen
June is my best friend. How did you not put two and two together? Or did you just not care? We need to talk. You can’t do this to her. —Caroline
I can’t talk right now. Just found out I have to leave Friday morning to head back home. Please don’t tell her. I’ll explain soon. I promise. —Cohen
Everything is getting more complicated by the minute. Thirty minutes ago, I agreed to keep lying to my best friend about dating her brother. Now, I have to lie about knowing she is dating my brother even though every part of my being wants to tell her to run in the other direction. I want to rewind my night to around thirty minutes ago and push pause, so I can enjoy a little more bliss instead of this chaos.
Thursday
I show up for work on Thursday with a huge smile plastered to my face. This week has been perfect. The only time in my life that consisted of this many exciting days in a row was when my parents took me to Disney World at the age of eight. I shouldn’t have to explain how a theme park vacation pales in comparison to my last three days.
I replayed my kiss with Cohen a million times before I fell asleep last night, and then I dreamed about it while I was sleeping. I am fairly certain no kiss will ever replace the space in my mind where this one resides.
I am trying to be careful of placing my emotions for Cohen into a box where they don’t belong because I’ve had so many letdowns in the past. He is so wonderful though. Not only is he handsome and sweet, but he’s also always professional. I still can’t believe that he had all those feelings for me, but he was able to play it off as nothing while at work.
Although I know that our physical connection will have to be minimal today, just thinking about seeing him gives me a jolt of electricity. Maybe Mr. Hargrove will have to back out on lunch again today.
After grabbing a cup of coffee from the office kitchen, I get started on some projects I need to complete before the weekend. My happiness makes it easy to work, and before I know it, the clock says two o’clock. I haven’t eaten lunch or seen Cohen today. That’s odd.
My stomach growls so loudly that I’m sure the entire office thinks I’ve deprived myself of food for days. I get up from my desk, walk out of my office and into the mass of cubicles. Cohen is talking with one of my coworkers at a cubicle across the large space. He looks up at me and gives me a small smile. I know we have to keep things under wraps since we are working on this project together, but a large part of me wants to jump over these desks and tackle him to the ground. Instead, I follow his example of professionalism, and I decide to feed my hunger with a trip to the kitchen to heat up a frozen meal. Should be tasty.
On my way back to my office, Cohen joins me.
“Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you today. I have lots to get done before the weekend.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I understand. I’ve been buried all day, too.” I smile and touch his arm.
“Alright, well, I better get back to it. I’ll see you later.”
“See you later,” I say with my brows furrowed as he walks out the doorway.
That was a strange conversation. I figured he would ask me out for a date tonight or at least sit and talk with me for a little bit. I guess he really is busy.
I don’t see Cohen for the rest of the day, and when I get ready to leave work for the night, he is nowhere to be found. Checking out with Mr. Hargrove, I have this sinking feeling that something isn’t right, but I try and put the feelings aside. I’m being paranoid because of past relationships. I need to give this a chance.
I go home, and feeling beat from my busy day, I eat a quick dinner and then head straight to bed. I take out a book and read until my eyes feel too heavy to keep open. I close the book and turn out the lights. I’m glad when sleep comes quickly.
Friday
The next morning is all sunshine as the light streams into my car windows on the way to work. I feel happy despite my minimal interaction with Cohen yesterday. Since it’s Friday, there’s not much to be unhappy about.
After I walk into my office, I sit at my desk and notice a folded piece of paper lying across my keyboard. My name is written in sloppy writing across the front. With curiosity, I open the paper.
June,
I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to say good-bye. I had to return home. I hope to call you soon. Please know that the last few days have been beautiful—much like you.
~C
My eyes begin to water as I look down at the rough paper. I try to gather myself together and sweep my emotions behind the curtain of my closed eyes. I’m overreacting. He’s just a guy. I knew that he would have to leave soon. I never even asked him when he had to head back home. From our conversation the other night, I assumed that we would see each other again outside of work before he left town. He must have had something come up with his company back home. He’ll call.
As I work through the day, I check my personal phone, office voice mail, and email account too many times to count, and I’ve received no calls or messages from Cohen. Of course, he is flying across the country today. Who knows how many hours he could be stuck in airports and on airplanes? I shouldn’t worry about it.
By the afternoon, I’ve moved through the sad stage, straight past the worried stage, and into the irritated stage. Cohen hasn’t called. He hasn’t texted. He hasn’t emailed. During a meeting today, Mr. Hargrove mentioned that a different associate would be handling Cohen’s phone calls for the next few days.
He could have at least had the decency to tell me that he was simply looking for a few fun nights out on the town. Why in the world would he tell me all those things and then leave without a word? I guess I should give him credit that he left a note, but that note left me more confused than if he wouldn’t have said anything at all.
It’s a good thing I didn’t tell my mom about our few dates. She would have relentlessly asked me about him, and I would have to tell her that he used me. I’m sure she would blame it on some unappealing quality I have, and then she’d suggest ways to hold on to the next boy that comes around to take a chance on me.
Frustrated, I pick up my phone and text Caroline.
Girls’ night tonight. Guys are ridiculous. —June
What? Are you okay? —Caroline
I guess. See you tonight. —June
I’ll pick up some take-out. —Caroline
I go back to wrapping things up with my emails. After I put a few finishing touches on a spreadsheet, I’m out the door. As I’m riding down the elevator, my phone trills. The sound is so quiet that I don’t hear it at first. It must be shoved in some invisible space. I put down my work
bag and try to dig out my phone from the dark cave that is my purse. Of course, I can’t find it.
I’m still searching when the elevator door opens on the first floor, and three gray-haired men in business suits look at me like I’ve lost my mind. My workbag has fallen over, and part of its contents has emptied out onto the floor. My purse is half-slung over my shoulder with my opposite hand stuck deep inside. I swear that I’m normally more put together than this. One of the men walks into the elevator and presses the button to hold the door. After thanking him with a sheepish look, I gather my things and haphazardly toss them into my bag before exiting the elevator. This day could not get any worse.
When I get to my car, I search through my purse again, and I’m still not able to find my phone. I think I might be hallucinating. I could have sworn I heard it ring three more times between the elevator and my car.
As I’m pulling out of the parking garage, a car flies into the entrance, causing me to brake quickly. My workbag falls to the floorboard, scattering papers and folders everywhere. In between a few of the papers, I see a green flashing light. My phone!
I throw my car into park and dive toward the passenger seat. It’s not that I’m desperate, but it could be a text from Cohen. Grabbing the phone, I quickly flip to my messages screen. It’s not from Cohen.
Don’t forget about the baby shower tomorrow at 2. Mom is expecting you. —Addison
Well, that sucks. I did forget. One of Addison’s close friends is having her first baby, and I really like her. I’ll have to convince Caroline to come with me. As much as I want to wallow in my disappointment about Cohen, maybe a baby shower will keep my mind off the whole situation. Cupcakes and party mints have a way of cheering me up.
Friday
Ever since Wednesday night, I’ve been trying to avoid June. I can’t believe the guy she met in New York is my brother. What a freaking small world. I tried to call him on Thursday, but he blew me off. His text said something about having to leave town. Next time I talk with him, I’m going to threaten him within an inch of his life if he hurts her. I know he’s in a hard spot, but he’s going to have to decide if he’s ready to put everything out there.
Unfortunately, I don’t think he understands the predicament he has put me in. Not only do I have to omit this particular truth from my best friend, but I also have to hide the fact that I’m dating her brother. This situation couldn’t get any worse.
I’ve been trying to figure out how neither of them recognized the other. I mean, she’s been my best friend for about four years now. Then, I realized how it happened. I never referred to him as Cohen when I talked about him. Although his friends and many other people refer to him by his first name, my parents and I call him CJ most of the time. With our last name being Smith, it’s easy to overlook a definite connection. I also think about the vacation pictures I kept in my dorm room and the ones I now have on display at our apartment. Although my brother and I have always been very close, we didn’t take family trips together.
We were young when our parents divorced. I was eight years old, and Cohen was ten when it all came to a head. Truth be told, our parents probably should have never gotten married. I remember they argued a lot, and I don’t recall many smiles in my house before the divorce was finalized. At the time, I had no clue what was going on, and I was confused about our parents living in different houses. About six months later, my confusion turned to frustration and fear when our dad got a new job out of state. Being a ten-year-old boy, my brother wanted to have someone to play baseball with, so he decided to go live with our dad. I, of course, was scared to leave our mom’s side, and then my brother and our dad left.
I’ll never forget the night before Cohen moved eleven hours away.
“Care, don’t worry. We’ll still get to see each other.”
“No, we won’t. Why does Dad have to be so mean? I don’t want you to go.” I pouted with tears welling up in my eyes.
“He said I can come visit a bunch, and you’ll come see us, too.”
“But I don’t want you to go, CJ. If you stay, I promise I won’t spit in your baseball glove, and I won’t hide your books anymore.”
“I don’t care about that,” he said, shaking his head. “What if I promise I’ll call you all the time? Will that make it better?”
“No,” I said, my tears turning into sobs.
“Come here, Care. Go to sleep. Like Mom says, everything is better in the morning.”
That night, my brother held me in his arms until my tears turned to dreams.
When I woke up the next morning, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me to open my eyes. I didn’t feel better, but I knew I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I helped Cohen as he finished packing a few things, and I made sure to slip a couple things into his suitcase—my favorite Barbie doll and a handmade card detailing how much I loved him and would miss him. I was so scared he would forget me.
Looking back, it’s funny to me that I wasn’t concerned about my dad leaving, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being without my brother. Even back then, my brother was a caring person who could draw anyone in with his gentle spirit.
Through the remainder of elementary and most of middle school, Cohen and I stayed close. We wrote letters, sent pictures, made frequent phone calls, and visited each other whenever we could. When he started high school, things began to change. Cohen started playing baseball, he made new friends, and he even had a steady girlfriend. When I needed something that he could provide from a long distance, he was still there for me, but our visits with each other dwindled considerably.
When I was a junior in high school, Cohen and Julie, his high school sweetheart, got married and moved to Seattle. Although he lived nearby, we still didn’t see much of each other since he was struggling through college courses, and Julie was starting up her bakery.
By the end of my senior year, we were living our own lives, only running into each other every now and then. I don’t think either of us wanted life to take over that way, but we were both so busy that it had to be okay for the time being.
When I left for college on the East Coast, I knew I would be cutting my ties to home even further, including my connection to my brother. It was a hard decision, but I felt it would help me grow into a better person.
Cohen and I still talked on the phone a few times a week, but after everything happened with Julie, he changed a lot. It was tough to know what he was going through but not be able to be there for him. I told my parents I thought he should move on, but it makes me nervous that he is using June to get back in the game.
June walks into the apartment and looks nothing like her normal cheery self. Her shoulders are slumped, and the red splotches on her face tell me she was crying on her way home. I know that whatever she’s worried about has to do with my brother.
“Bad day?” I ask, trying not to let on that I know anything about her situation.
“You could say that,” she says, slouching into the large comfy chair in our living room.
“Anything I can help with?”
“Not unless you can tell me why guys say one thing and then do another.”
“Oh, June. I’m so sorry. Guys are brainless sometimes. This guy is foolish if he doesn’t want to hang on to you.”
I grab our take-out off the counter and bring it into the living room. I feel like such a hypocrite. We eat our food while listening to some funky indie music that doesn’t help her mood, and then we decide to go to bed.
“Oh, hey, I forgot to ask you,” June calls out from her bathroom. “Do you think you could go with me to a baby shower at my parents’ house tomorrow?”
“I don’t have any plans, so I don’t see why not.”
“Thanks. We need to leave around one fifteen or so. It’s supposed to start at two.”
“Sounds good. See you in the morning.”
My head hits the pillow, and the relief of sleep coming soon washes over my tired mind. Then, like a f
reight train, it suddenly dawns on me. I don’t have any plans with Liam. I haven’t talked to him since Wednesday night. Since hearing about June’s connection with my brother on Wednesday, I’ve neglected to call or text him. I wonder what he’s doing tonight or who he might be with. Damn it. I roll over, closing my eyes, as I pull the covers over my head. I wish my life didn’t have to be so complicated. Weren’t things more simple just a couple weeks ago?
Saturday
Caroline and I both wake up late on Saturday morning. We’re not usually early morning risers on the weekends, but eleven thirty is pushing it a little bit. I stumble into the kitchen to the sound of Caroline groaning as she looks in the refrigerator, no doubt finding very little to eat.
“I’m glad we’re going to this baby shower today. I hope they have some real food at your parents’ house.”
“I’m sure my mom will feed you until your stomach bursts, but I can’t wait until two o’clock to eat. Is there anything edible?”
Caroline pulls out a plastic container with what appears to be unidentifiable leftover meat. Yum.
“No, thanks. I’ll just do coffee and some of these peanut butter crackers. We can head over there early if you want.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I make coffee while Caroline opens the blinds to let in some light. She sits at the bar and opens a magazine, waiting for her coffee to be served.
Last night, I felt like Caroline was avoiding something. Every time I attempted to talk about her job or recent love interest, she would turn the conversation back around to my problems. At first, I thought she was trying to be nice because of everything going on with me right now, but now that I think about it, she didn’t give me any details about her life the entire night. Being the nosy person that I am, I can’t stand not knowing what’s going on with her.
Crossing Paths Page 11