“I believe it’s called a grand gesture,” he said. “I don’t have a boom box though.”
“Why would you need a boom box?”
“You really aren’t up on pop culture, are you?”
West hopped over the ledge and into the room. Cat came to stand and rounded her canopy bed. Suddenly her room felt far too girlish for the woman she’d become over the last two days, but West wasn’t looking at the decor. He only had eyes on her.
“I came to apologize,” he said when they were standing face to face. “I almost knocked on your parents’ bedroom door but assumed the queen-sized bed wasn’t yours.”
“What happened today wasn’t your fault,” said Cat.
“My world is messy.” He sighed, tugged at his lower lip, and then tried again. “My world is messy, but it got brighter when you were in it.”
Cat’s knees went weak. She was thankful she did have the canopy then. She leaned against one of the four posts as West continued.
“You’re a luxury. I don’t get many of those.”
He reached for her hand. Cat meant to lift her hand to his, but all of her extremities felt leaden under the grandness of his gesture. West lifted her fingers to his lips. His lips brushed the back of her knuckles in what she decided she would be happy to call her first kiss.
“I’d like to keep you around,” he said, “if that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay.”
“Good,” he said, with that grin that made her head feel light and her heart full.
“Good,” she said. Though she wasn’t exactly sure what she was agreeing to? Was he simply agreeing to continue to help her with the list? Or was this something…more? “What about my list?”
“I’ll help,” he said. “But nothing dangerous.”
“There’s one you could help with right now. It’s not that dangerous.” Cat reached in her back pocket. She pulled out the folded list and handed it to him. “It’s the one at the top.
West unfolded the list and looked the piece of paper over. His brows rose as they scanned the words at the top. “This is quite a specific list item.”
“It’s good to be clear about these things.”
West looked up from the paper and met her gaze. “You sure about this?”
“I’m one hundred percent positive.” Cat tried hard not to bounce on her toes with eagerness.
“Okay.”
West set the list down on her desk. He picked up a pencil and put a checkmark next to the number one item. Have my first kiss. With a sure scrawl, he added the words with Westley York.
Then he straightened and turned to Cat. Cat hardly felt the small tug he gave her. She was already coming into his arms. But that was as far as she went.
She had no idea what she was doing. She was happy to let West lead. Especially now that she was certain they both were headed in the same direction.
The first brush of his lips against hers didn’t quite feel real. It felt more like a feather brush. West’s palm went to the back of her head. His fingers went into her hair as he tilted her head to fit her more snuggly against his mouth.
And that’s when things got real.
He deepened the kiss. Pulling not just her head, but her entire body flush against his. Cat’s entire world narrowed to the man who held her in his arms, the man who shared her breath, the man who had claimed her heart.
West held her to him. Sighing into her as she inhaled everything that was him. The bitter beer from his tussle with his father, the lingering sweetness from the fair, the cool night air that he brought in with him from the outside.
All too soon, West released her. She didn’t feel as though she’d lost him. She felt that he was now a part of her and would forever be.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Cat could only nod. Her lips were too busy pressing together, trying to savor her first kiss.
“And Cat…” He picked up the list from her desk. “I’m planning the day’s activities.” He stuffed the list into his back pocket and then climbed out the window, taking her plan to finally live her life with him.
Cat had no problems putting her life in his hands. In fact, she couldn’t wait to see what the next day brought them.
16
West
“Ouch!”
West jerked his hand away from the grease popping out of the pan. A sizzling bubble had landed right on his thumb. Unfortunately, shaking out the digit did not alleviate the discomfort.
“What are you doing to my kitchen?” Zik stood in the kitchen doorway. His arms were braced on either side of the frame. His eyes were wide, along with his mouth, which was contorted in a look of abject horror.
“Making breakfast.” West waved the spatula in his hand. As he did so, a dollop of batter splattered into the greasy pan. West jumped back in time to avoid another bubbling burst of hot grease.
“More like destroying it.” Zik snatched the spatula from West’s hand and bumped him out of the way.
West relinquished the role of short-order cook. It was his brother’s territory. Zik had taken to cooking when both their parents had neglected the role. When West had wanted to watch cartoons on their stolen cable, Zik had always turned to the cooking and food channels. He was a self-taught cook, and he’d worked his way up to line cook in the town’s fanciest restaurant.
Zik was putting aside money, but not to go to culinary school. His sights were set on opening a food truck where he’d be the boss of the stove as well as the menu.
So, no, West didn’t have any qualms about stepping aside this morning. He’d done a poor job of making breakfast anyway. The eggs were a bit crispy, and the yolks hard. The toast came out a dark shade of brown rather than a golden tan. Also, there was a little more water than necessary in the reconstituted orange juice.
“What’s gotten into you?” said Zik as he expertly flipped a pancake. “Your fanciest dish is adding bananas to your instant oatmeal.”
“Just trying to help out,” said West.
Zik frowned as he moved a gold brown, perfectly fluffy pancake to a serving plate. “You help plenty. You’re raising Dinck. Though I think she’ll end up overthrowing her elementary school class. Probably the principal, too.
“‘I said I would not hurt him,’” came a small voice from the hall. “‘But I never for a moment said he would not suffer pain.’”
West winced as he looked down at his little sister, the foam sword at her side. She was far from the typical little girl. She hated flowers. She lined up her dolls to walk the plank or overthrow the king. It would only be cute for a few more years. If she hit twelve and still had dreams of mutinies, he’d do something about it then.
“What’s gotten into West is that he has a new girlfriend,” Dinck singsonged as she shoved a whole pancake into her little mouth.
On second thought, maybe the little rascal needed some immediate discipline.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” said West.
Though it pained him to say the words. West was not a liar. He always told the truth. People simply choose not to believe him. For the first time in his life, West didn’t believe his own words.
But the words were the truth. Cat wasn’t his girlfriend. At least she hadn’t said the words.
Did he want her to say the words?
Did he want to say the words to her?
“I think she is your girlfriend,” said Zik. “Who is this girl?
“Her name is Cat,” said Dinck. “She smells nice, and she gives the best hugs. And she’s my friend. Can she come over today after school, West? Please?”
“Wait,” said Zik as he turned off the burner. “Is this that friend who got drunk the other night?”
“I told you,” said West, “that wasn’t her fault. It was her first time in a bar. That creep, Tommy Stokes, got her drunk.”
“How does Dinck know her?”
“They went on a date last night,” said his gabby little sister. “She gave me hugs when Da
ddy came after me for stealing his booze.”
Man, that kid would grow up to make the best villain speeches.
Zik looked between the two of them. West’s younger brother was the non-confrontational type. Whenever their mom had gotten high, or their dad drank, Zik made sure to be on the other side of the door from them. Not like Dinck who thought it was her mission to relieve Bill York of the evil spirits in those glass bottles.
“Dinck,” said West, “the bus will be here any minute. Go grab your backpack.”
Zik could barely contain himself as he watched Dinck race out of the room. “You left her by herself?”
“I got here a few minutes after Dinck,” West admitted. “But it was fine.”
“West you can’t afford to get distracted. It sounds to me like this girl is trouble.”
“Trust me, Cat’s the furthest thing from trouble. Accident-prone, yes. But she’s a good girl. I like her. She likes me.”
Zik began piling dishes in the sink. Where Dinck liked to come at problems head-on and then forget about them, and West simply looked for the best way to solve them and then took on the burden of that solution, Zik preferred to avoid problems at all costs.
“You hear from Dad?”
“No,” said West. “I guess he didn’t get picked up by the Sheriff’s last night.”
“Think he’ll come back soon?”
West shrugged. Their father was technically the owner of this house. But for years, Zik and West had scrounged up the money to pay the bills.
Bill York hadn’t been able to hold it together, much less hold down a job, since his wife died. Their parents had been codependent addicts. Without his partner in crime, Bill had fallen apart. The man was more like the walking dead and spent many of his nights out on the streets, only coming back to the house when he was drunk and disoriented.
So, no. West didn’t think it was likely they’d see him anytime soon if he’d dried out overnight in the Hidden Hollows small jailhouse.
The ring of the phone broke through the brothers’ silent reverie. Both men froze. Zik at the sink with the griddle in his hands. West in the doorway.
After the fifth ring, West reached over and put both the phone and his brother out of their misery. The person on the other end didn’t waste time with pleasantries. West listened for a few minutes and then hung up.
“Who was it?” asked Zik.
“The school.”
“Dinck’s school?”
“No, the high school. I got the job. Owens said that upon review, they think I would be the best fit. I start on Monday.”
Zik clapped him on the back. West couldn’t help but notice the relief in his brother’s eyes. For the first few years after Dinck was born, Zik had been the primary earner while West played Mr. Mom during the day and did less savory jobs at night. They’d barely scraped by. Now, with two incomes, they might be able to get ahead.
They needed this win in the family. Now West would be a contributing member of society. A gainfully employed man who deserved a good girl like Cat.
“I’m headed out,” said West. “Gonna drop Dinck at the bus stop and then spend the day with Cat.”
“The day?” said Zik. “She doesn’t work?”
“I don’t think so.” There was so much he didn’t know about her. “Her parents are well-off.”
“Who are they?”
West shrugged. “Don’t know, actually. I don’t even know her last name.”
Before Zik could continue on the third degree, West scooped up Dinck, who was racing towards the door. He dropped her at the bus stop amid a tirade of questions about Cat, most of which he didn’t have an answer for.
He knew what would be at the top of their list today. They’d spend the day getting to know one another. Like a real couple on a real date. Something, despite his reputation, that West had never done because he’d spent the last seven years raising a little girl.
After the school bus pulled off, West made his way to Main Street. Today, no one crossed the street as he approached. A few folks even smiled at him. Could they tell that there had been a shift in his world?
“What are you doing here?”
That wasn’t the greeting he’d expected when he stepped into the flower shop. Rose Weber stood behind the counter arranging a bouquet of sunflowers. The brightness of the flowers reminded West of the sparkle in Cat’s eyes.
“Are you here to buy flowers?” asked Rose. “Why?”
“It’s actually none of your business,” said West. “I’ll take a bunch of these sunflowers.”
“It’s Cat, isn’t it? Did she have a relapse?”
West was about to tell Rose off. Specifically that his love life, and the woman he was with, was none of her concern because it would never involve a girl like her. But her genuine concern, and the word she’d used, made him pause.
“Relapse?” said West.
“Yeah, you know.”
West did not know. “What are you talking about?
“Cat’s cancer.”
Those were two words he was unprepared to hear in the same sentence. Cat. Cancer. And then there was the word relapse. It meant that something had happened before and had a danger of happening again.
“After two bouts with cancer, you can’t blame me for asking,” said Rose. “She said she was waiting for the results to come in from her latest checkup. So are these for good news or bad news?”
West stopped listening. He didn’t reach for the flowers Rose had wrapped for him. He turned on his heel and headed for Cat’s house to find out the answer to that question.
17
Cat
Cat’s heart was still racing the next morning after her balcony kiss with West. She might not know pop culture, but she did know the classics. Romeo and Juliet had fallen in love at first sight. Cat felt much more mature having fallen in love over two days.
She was sure that’s what the racing of her heart meant. It had raced all day yesterday. It had skipped a few beats flying through the air on the zip line. Then it tripped again when they went up high on the Ferris wheel. She’d felt it completely stop when West had kissed her.
She’d been kissed. The kiss had been from a guy beyond her wildest dreams. West’s kiss had been everything she’d imagined. And then more. She didn’t care about the rest of her list. Her bucket had overflowed now that the number one item had been checked off.
Cat would be happy to do anything, as long as it was with West. She knew it was too soon to be thinking the L word. But she was beyond certain that she was in love.
Heck, she was onto the middle of the alphabet! Cat knew, with all of her racing, skipping, tripping heart, that she was going to marry Westley York.
“Cat,” called her mother, “don’t forget about your appointment on Friday.”
At the unwelcome reminder, Cat’s rushing heartbeat slowed. How could she ever forget about her appointment? Cancer had been a part of her life for nearly every waking moment that she breathed.
Her breath came shorter, shallower now. Her mother’s words had likely stalled the oxygen to her brain. Her head was starting to ache. And there went that numbness in her fingers and toes again.
Cat knew she’d beaten the odds having gone into remission twice. She had prayed last night that she would be so lucky again. That she would have a chance not only to live her life but to have love in it.
The question was, would West still accept her if he knew about her past with the deadly disease?
Cat wanted to believe that he would. He’d been misjudged his whole life based on things that weren’t his fault. Being sick wasn’t her fault. She had no control over how and when her cells decided to attack her. But one thing she knew for sure, she would put up a fight until her last breath.
The sound of the doorbell brought Cat down the stairs. It could only be one person. He was here early.
Cat wobbled as she went to the door. Her grip slipped off the handle as she tried to pull it open. A wave of fatig
ue rushed through her body, and she had a sudden desire to go back to sleep.
But sleeping was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to spend every waking moment with West. The lethargy left her when she opened the door to find West standing there.
Joy spread through her entire body, washing away the momentary exhaustion. The sun backlit him. Its rays spilled forward to embrace her, warming numb fingers and toes.
Could she reach out and embrace West? Could she stand on her tiptoes and kiss him? Was she his girlfriend?
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he said.
He gazed down at her. His expression was unreadable as his gray eyes swept over her face and then down her body. It wasn’t the heated gaze from last night. West looked as though he were searching for something. Cat began to fidget under his scrutiny.
“You’re early,” she said into the silence.
“I wanted to see you. Are you okay?”
A cloud moved behind him, blocking out the sun. There were shadows under his eyes as his gaze pinned her in place. The warmth she’d felt a moment ago, seeped out of her body to be replaced with a slight chill.
“I’m fine.” Cat tried to hide her shudder. “I’m great.” Cat took a deep breath in. Never had anyone made her feel lightheaded with a simple gaze.
“Who is it, Catalina?” came her mother’s voice.
“It’s my… He’s…” Cat searched West’s gaze. “This is West.”
She moved aside so that West could come in from off the stoop. He hesitated at the threshold. His gaze fixed on the scuff of his boots and then the marble floors.
“Hello, dear.” Silvina’s tone was warm and friendly as ever when someone new came into her home. “You look a little too thin. Have you had breakfast?”
“Sorry,” Cat said to West as her mother lead them into the kitchen. “I told you. She thinks food cures everything.”
West opened his mouth and then closed it. Cat realized she’d never seen him look uncomfortable. She was used to the sure-footed West York. She wasn’t sure how to receive this new shifty one.
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