by Jamie Knight
We even, mostly, figured out what tickets to get. I wouldn't go to the opera for just anyone, and I really thought she would enjoy it. I had been wrong about that, but the sex afterward had been amazing, so I called it a win.
As with any winning streak, there had to be a break, and mine was coming sooner than I would have hoped.
Camilla knocked on my apartment door at the usual time, breakfast tray in front of her, it being her turn to do breakfast and mine to make dinner.
“Morning,” she said, giving me a light peck on the lips.
“It certainly is,” I said, opening the door fully for her.
It was her famous cinnamon French Toast again. No matter how many times we had it, it was never any less enjoyable. Likely because she made them slightly differently every time. I wasn't sure if she knew or even if she didn’t, but it was interesting to sense the different elements. I would make silent mental lists of the ingredients in each variation.
When our plates were cleared and the dishes done—me washing and Camilla drying—we hopped into the shower for a quickie before getting dressed for work. Camilla returned to her apartment for this formality.
Each clad in our signature looks we headed down to the parking lot, hand in hand, ready to face another day.
Or so we thought.
We had to get there early so Camilla could make the beginning of her shift. Not that I minded, of course. It just gave us more time together where we didn't have to pretend we weren't a couple and gave me a couple of hours at the beginning of the day to get a start on my work. A major factor contributing to the fact that I was beginning to outpace the other artists, despite my process taking twice as much work as a digital-only guy like Cooper.
If anything, I had more in common style-wise with Carlos, who worked mostly in paper and pencils. He still managed to render clear concept images, in most cases, based on briefs Chris had given him. Though he also let me write briefs on occasion if it was a concept I was creating myself, and Chris was willing to let me run with it. I had built up a lot of trust and goodwill in the last few years that gave me more creative freedom than I would have otherwise had.
“What the fuck is going on?”
I spun in my chair spilling ink on my draft and ruining it. Had it not for Cooper demanding my attention at the cubical door, I would have been a lot more upset. I had spent about ten hours on that draft over the last two days.
“That's what I was just thinking,” I said, rolling up the ruined draft so the ink wouldn't get on the floor.
“I'm serious, man,” Cooper said as I dropped the rolled-up paper into the trash can.
I was about to point out that I was serious, too, but decided it was probably not the best idea to antagonize him any more than he already was.
“What the fuck did I do?” Cooper asked, spreading his hands wide.
“What are you talking about?”
“You've been avoiding me for weeks!”
It was then that I realized that I was hurting Cooper in a different way. It wasn't a punch in the face, but ignorance can hurt as much as an insult.
I sighed. “It's not you. It's all me. I've been seeing someone. Turns out the Larkin approach didn't work out, and I've been trying to do that and keep up with work.”
A big grin spread over Coop's face. “That's great, man! Why didn't you just tell me?”
“I got the funny feeling that you wouldn't quite approve of her,” I said, tiptoeing around the hard truth.
“You're a grown man.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “What does it matter if I approve or not?”
“Like how there's not anyone in the world good enough to date Camilla?”
“That's different.”
“How?”
“It just is,” Cooper insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And there it is,” I said.
“There what is?”
“The motto of the hypocrite,” I said, sounding a lot meaner than I mean it to.
“Now, that's not fair.”
“And it doesn't make a lick of difference that my girlfriend that you wouldn't approve of is Camilla?”
I had planned to say more. To say how serious it was, how much I loved her, and that I was thinking about marrying her. That was the plan. One that was cut off by Cooper punching me in the jaw.
“Seriously?” I said, the strike bringing up only the dullest of aches.
He tried again, apparently not having learned his lesson, and I cleanly dodged the second strike as well as the third and the fourth, driving me back into the wall of another cubicle. I knocked it over, sending Carlos and Chris running to avoid getting hit. I tried to get out of the strike zone, but Cooper followed, swinging again. His punch connected with Lucky knocking him over. I got out of the way, and Cooper turned on me, rage in his eyes.
Needing to end the situation before it could go any further, I threw a punch, a single blow, hoping to shock Coop out of it. My friend dodged, and I slammed my fist into the watercooler.
“What the fuck?” Camilla demanded, returning with lunch and staring at the sopping carpet.
“I didn't mean to.”
“He really didn't. Cooper threw the first punch and went a bit crazy,” Chris said.
“Now who's being an immature brat?” she screamed in our general direction before storming off.
It was clearly meant to both of us. Cooper for throwing the first punch and me for responding. Apparently, she would have preferred if I had just stood there and let her brother punch me. Which made no sense to me at all.
“What the hell is going on?”
Cooper and I both looked over to see Ryan and Beau come at us from down the hall, just finishing off the handoff between them.
“Get cleaned up,” Ryan said to Cooper, no doubt referring to the blood flowing from his nose.
“Aden, get these walls back up,” Beau said, the look of disappointment on his face worse than any punch I could have gotten. “And clean up this water!”
“The expenses for Chris's computer terminal will come out of your pay,” Ryan said, as Cooper went to wash off.
His disgust was apparent, and I knew that I was lucky that I hadn't been fired.
Chapter Fourteen - Camilla
I wasn't really sure where to go. I was so mad I had left without permission or any real goal in mind. I was so upset that I couldn’t really see where I was or where I was going. I never really noticed how similar most of the buildings looked before. One neighborhood bleeding into another. I found a bench and sat down, at least long enough for my eyes to clear from the tears so I could see where the heck I was going.
I was hurt and honestly felt a bit betrayed by their behavior, especially Aden, who was usually so in control. I wasn't happy with Cooper but had come to expect such silliness from him. What bothered me most with what happened was I had really expected better of Aden. If he was going to be a father, he would have to settle down.
It was that point, of course, I remembered that he had no idea he was going to be a dad. It was clear that I would have to sit down with both of them, probably separately, and hash it all out. I would have to talk to Aden first. If he wasn't in this relationship for the long haul, it wouldn't be worth putting up with Cooper's objections. If we really were going to be a proper family, Cooper could stuff it as far as I was concerned.
If I was honest with myself, I was also ashamed of my overreaction. I wasn't happy to see them fighting, especially with the damage they were causing. Though according to Chris, who had no reason to lie that I could see, Cooper had started it, and Aden was mostly just trying not to get hit. Which seemed a lot like him. He had ended up swinging on Cooper and apparently really messing up, but what would Cooper have done to Aden had he allowed it? There was clearly a lot more going on than I had known and could well have reacted inappropriately.
There was only one thing t
o do.
Getting my bearings as well as I could, I found my way back towards the office and came across a cafe that I had seen but had yet to try. Coffee had always been one of my favorite smells. Not brewed coffee or even brewing coffee. Fresh, ground coffee out of the canister or bag. It could almost make me hum with pleasure. If they ever made a car air freshener in that scent, I would be the first in line at the hardware store.
I breathed a deep sigh of relief as I walked through the carved wooden door, an electric version of “Ode to Joy” ringing out at me to find that this was still the case. I hadn't gone off the smell of unbrewed coffee like I had freshly baked cinnamon rolls. There were those as well at the cafe but encased safely behind a thick pane of glass in the display counter.
“What can I get you?” asked the perky college girl in the garish violet polo shirt, as though filling my order would genuinely be the highlight of her day.
“Large Earl Grey with cream and sugar,” I said, chapter and verse.
“Righto, oh, what's your name?”
“Camilla,” I whispered, still whipping away tears.
“Cammy?” she asked, not quite hearing.
“Sure,” I said, not having the heart to contradict her.
She rang me up and gave me my change, mostly in quarters, and I went to one of the adorable varnished wood bistro tables to wait. No sooner did my butt hit the artisan chair than I had my phone out and was texting Aden. I apologized slightly for my reaction and said I needed to talk to him, suggesting a time when I knew he would be off work. That message sent, I then texted Cooper. Using my words carefully, I made the same basic statement but suggested a time a couple of hours later, to minimize the risk of another fistfight. I really couldn't stand any more stress. I already felt sick enough.
No sooner did I hit send than another voice rose up from the bustling crowd, struggling to be heard over the cacophony of laptop keyboards. All the would-be J.K. Rowlings sweating blood while enjoying a coffee.
“Cammy!” the voice came again, like an olde tyme town cryer.
“Oh, right,” I said, realizing that it was me. “Thank you,” I said instinctively while hustling over to the pick-up counter, not wanting to take up any more of their time.
Sitting down at the table, the chair already claimed by my coat, even the desert getting cold at that time of year. Not too bad, of course. Nothing that could cause limbs to fall off, or even see your breath, but you could get very uncomfortable in a mighty hurry if you let the sunshine fool you and didn't wear the right clothes. Even Aden would wear a classic black biker jacket with black hardware with his usual sneakers, jeans, and T-shirt ensemble.
It was sitting in that hipster cafe, at that cute fair trade table sipping an Anglo-phillic beverage that inspiration hit. Which tended to be how things went in my somewhat limited experience. I would have to feel my way through with Aden. That was still somewhat unknown territory. He wouldn't admit it, but the army had changed him. Though mostly for the better.
When it came to Cooper, there was one person who knew him even better than me. And I happened to have her phone number on my contacts.
“Hello?”
“Hi, mom!”
“Camilla?”
“Got it in one,” I said, Aden's words coming out of my mouth.
“What was that, dear?”
“Nothing, listen, I need some help.”
“Late on your rent again?”
“No, the job I've got is pretty good.”
“Oh, good, Cooper said he would recommend you.”
“And indeed, he did. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Your job?”
“Cooper,” I said.
“Oh, right then.”
“I've got this, well, I guess the right word is boyfriend.”
“You do? That's wonderful! Who is it?”
“Remember Aden?”
“Aden Adams?”
“Yeah.”
“Weren't he and Cooper best friends.”
“Still are,” I said.
“I see, and Cooper is being overbearing and absurd.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Tell him directly he is being unreasonable and why. If he keeps trying to pull crazy shenanigans, blank him for a while. He can be a fool, but he really does love you. If he thinks he'll actually lose you, he'll smarten up.”
“Really?”
“Worked when he was lagging at the mall. All I had to do was walk a bit faster, and he would scream and come running after me.”
“How old was he?”
“Three, but the principle still stands.”
“Thanks, mom.”
“No problem, sweetie.”
Armed with this new information, I finished draining the cup of tea and pulled on my coat, dropping the phone into the pocket.
I was ready. I could do it. Come what may.
Unfortunately, what came was a massive crack in the sidewalk large enough to get the heel of my shoe. I struggled mightily trying to gain my freedom without breaking my ankle in the process. There did turn out to be a break, but it instead involved the separation of the heel from the rest of my shoe. Setting me free but also sending me tumbling backward. Of course, there was a taxi coming along at that moment.
There was never one around when I wanted it but when I was falling into traffic - BANG
I could feel the hard glass crumple under me as the windshield shattered. My last thought was of Aden and how I never told him about the baby.
Chapter Fifteen - Aden
My heart was in my throat. There were few times in my life that I had been as scared as I was right then. The idea that I might lose Camilla suddenly on par with the enemy discovering my position. Truth be told, I also wasn't thrilled with the notion of losing Cooper as a friend. We had known each other since 6th grade and stayed in touch even when I was touring the war zones of the world.
I had been worried about both of them since the fight. Cooper wouldn't even look at me after he got patched up, and Camilla disappeared after storming off which really wasn't like her. It usually took about twenty minutes for her to calm down and return.
I would have gone after her at the time, but she was really upset, and I had to completely redraft the ruined work the ink was spilled on, which required me to stay after my usual hours to get back to where I had been at lunchtime. It was nearly six by the time I left for home, noticing a text from Camilla asking me to meet her as I left while getting ready to call her. I wasn't late though, just barely. I nearly bounded up the stairs, such was my desperation to see her, even if she was still pissed off at me.
The door was open when I got there. My soldier instincts kicked in immediately, and I proceeded with caution, ready for trouble at a moment's notice. None of the lights were on, which also put me on edge.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Cooper.
“Camilla asked me to come,” he said, from his position on the couch.
“Really,” I said, meaning it as a statement.
“Well, yeah. I wasn't supposed to get here for a while, but I just wanted to see her.”
I could understand that. I could feel my anger and tension lifting ever so slightly. I was still a bit sore at him for attacking me like that, but I knew Coop well enough to understand why he did it—screwed up as his reasons might have been. Though I couldn't honestly say that I wouldn't have done the same thing.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know. She never showed up after work,” Cooper explained.
“That's not like her,” I said.
“Don't I know it. I tried calling, but she's not picking up.”
That really wasn't like her. As mad as she was, Camilla would still answer the phone to yell at the offending party if nothing else. She was short-tempered but not all that petty. There was definitely something wrong.
Especially considering that she seemed so keen to work things out.
“Does she have GPS on her phone?”
“You can track her?” Cooper asked.
“I don't feel good about it, but yeah.”
“It is an emergency, probably,” Cooper conceded.
My phone started buzzing in my pocket as though a sign from the heavens, releasing me from my purgatory of worry.
“Aden Adams,” I said.
“Aden, it's Shae.”
“What happened?” I asked, tipped off by my little cousin's infamous serious voice.
“I came on shift a while ago, and Camilla is here. She's listed as a Jane Doe because they couldn't find any ID.”
“We'll be right there,” I said before hanging up.
“Camilla?” Cooper asked.
“Is in at the hospital.”
We took Cooper's car. It was faster, and he didn't really have parking rights at the building. Taking the traffic code more as a suggestion rather than hard and fast rules, Cooper had us at the hospital in a few minutes.
“That was quick,” Shae said, meeting us at the door.
“Are you surprised?” I asked.
“Not really, this way.”
We really weren't allowed into the recovery room, but Shae bent the rules for us. I could see Camilla through the window. I tried not to cry.
“She's doing pretty well considering. They had to take out her spleen because it started to hemorrhage. Other than that, it was a couple of clean breaks with no real damage to her spine or head. Her back took the brunt of the impact from the car. The theory is that someone stole her purse from the scene.”
At least that's what I think she said. I wasn't really listening at that point. I was moving without really knowing that I was doing it, going towards Camilla's bedside. I held her hand, which felt cold, and kissed her on the cheek.
“I love you.”
I turned to see Cooper staring at me. I had expected another punch, but he looked more resigned and angry. He might not have bee happy about Camilla and me being together, but he seemed willing to accept it if that was her choice. Something even I wasn't sure of at that moment. We traded off, Cooper going over and doing his thing, begging her not to die like the drama queen he could be.