The Icing on the Cake (Otter Bluff)

by Linda Seed

  “I suppose you saw Cassie,” Lisa said later that afternoon when she’d dragged herself out of bed long enough to make a cup of tea.

  “I don’t want to talk about Cassie.”

  “I didn’t ask you to recount your every shared breath,” Lisa said. “I simply asked if you saw her.”

  “I did. Yes. I saw her.”

  “Well. I’d expect you to be in a better mood than this, given the fact that you probably got laid.”

  “Mom!”

  She shrugged. “I’m simply making a reasonable supposition, Brian.”

  And despite his better judgment, he did it. He told her. Was it so wrong that he wanted comfort from his mother?

  “We … ah … had a fight. I think we broke up.”

  She perked up like Thor did at the sound of a can opener. “Broke up? What happened?”

  He didn’t want to interpret her reaction as glee that his relationship had flamed out and died. He wanted to interpret it simply as interest in the events of his life. But he knew better. And still, he told her what happened.

  He edited the facts a bit, leaving out the part of the fight that involved her. Instead, he focused on the fact that he was here and Cassie was there, and how hard the separation had been on their budding relationship.

  “She’s mad that I haven’t been there to help her get the bakery up and running. And that’s fair. I haven’t been there. I said I would help, and I didn’t.”

  Lisa looked at him with the same laser-like intensity she’d used when he was little and he’d done something she’d explicitly told him not to. It was the look that usually preceded him being called by his first, middle, and last names.

  “You’re leaving out the most important part,” she observed.

  “Which part am I leaving out?”

  “The part where your little girlfriend resents me.”

  He didn’t confirm it, exactly, but he didn’t deny it, either. “And you resent her, or you wouldn’t be calling her my little girlfriend.”

  “But don’t you see, Brian, this is wonderful news! Now there’s nothing to keep you on the Central Coast. Ike is here. I’m here. If you and Cassie are no longer together, there’s nothing to stop you from relocating.”

  “Mom—”

  “In fact, I’ve made an appointment for you with Avery Farrell.”

  He blinked at her. “Who’s Avery Farrell?”

  She waved him off. “Oh, you remember Avery, dear. He and I dated for a few months years ago. He’s a producer for Netflix now.”

  Brian noted that Lisa’s energy seemed to have fully returned.

  “I don’t remember him, Mom. We never met. I assume that was during the time you and I weren’t in touch.” The period of time when they weren’t in touch had spanned years, beginning when Brian was a junior in high school and continuing until after he’d graduated college.

  “Oh. I suppose that’s right,” she said, utterly without shame for having abandoned her son for more than six years. “Anyway, I told him about you, and he’s dying to meet you.”

  “What for?”

  “Why, so you can get a real job, of course. I told him about your YouTube activities, and he said he might be able to find you a job as a writer for a show they’ve got in pre-production. He wasn’t able to promise you anything, of course, but if you’d just have lunch with him …”

  “I don’t want to have lunch with him.”

  “Fine. Drinks, then. You’ve gotten a slow start as far as building a career, but that’s not important now. What matters is what you do from here. I’ll call him and tell him you—”

  “No.” Suddenly, everything was clear: His mother wasn’t sick. Cassie had been right—he was being played. Lisa had never supported his relationship with Cassie, and she’d lured him down here to separate them. And why? Because she was between boyfriends and she needed a man to pay attention to her?

  And, of course, Lisa didn’t respect his career, or his talent, or his passion for what he did. She saw him as a failure. She saw him as someone she had to save if he were to become anyone of consequence.

  He felt like such an idiot.

  “It almost worked,” he said, his voice soft, as though he were talking to himself more than to her.

  “What almost worked, dear? Speak up, I can barely hear you.”

  “Your plan. It almost worked.”

  Her smile faltered. “If you mean my plan to get you on at Netflix—”

  “I don’t. I mean your plan to come between me and Cassie and get me here to be at your beck and call. And you know what’s the worst part of it? As soon as you find yourself another Lorenzo you won’t even be interested in me anymore. The minute somebody starts fawning over you, you’ll forget you have a son. Again.”

  “Oh, Brian, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Right. I’m being ridiculous. Any time I call you out on your bullshit—your absolute, self-serving, narcissistic bullshit—I’m being ridiculous. Because my feelings couldn’t possibly be legitimate.”

  She compressed her lips into a thin, harsh line. “This again.”

  “Yes, this again.”

  “I’ve told you, I left your father because I needed to pursue my career. I couldn’t stay in a bad marriage, baking cookies and mopping the floor! I’d have died, Brian! Is that what you wanted? Is that what you still want?”

  “No.” He shook his head, shrugged. “No. I don’t want anything from you. Except for you to admit that I became a good person without you. That I’m somebody of worth, and I became that because of Dad and because of Ike and his family. And none of it had anything to do with you.”

  He went into the spare bedroom, repacked the things he’d unpacked, snapped Thor’s leash on, and headed toward the door.

  “Brian, don’t do this. Don’t. I—”

  “You love me? Is that what you were going to say?”

  “I … I was going to say I need you.”

  Right. Of course she was. It had never been about love for her. It had always been about need. Hers, not his.

  He left without saying another word.

  Chapter 36

  Brian showed up at Ike’s apartment without announcing himself, leading Thor on his leash and looking like a man whose life had been upended by a woman. Which wasn’t strictly accurate. His life had been upended by two women.

  Ike wasn’t there—he was in class—but his fiancée answered the door acting like she was glad to see him.

  At least one woman he knew wasn’t playing him or pissed at him.

  “Brian! Hi. Come on in. Hi, Thor. Who’s a good boy? Who’s the best boy?” Benny rubbed Thor’s fur vigorously, cooing into his ear and smooshing his face.

  “Something tells me it isn’t me,” Brian said.

  Benny cocked a fist on one hip and regarded him. “From the look of you, I’m thinking no. Ike’s not here, but I’ve got beer. You want to come in and tell me about it?”

  Brian had hoped to tell Ike everything and get his valuable perspective on what he should do. But Ike wasn’t here, and Benny was a willing listener. Anyway, it might be nice to get a woman’s view on things.

  He laid it all out—Lisa’s elaborate act of being sick; the fight he’d gotten into with Cassie over the fact that he was never there; Lisa’s miraculous recovery when she learned that Cassie and Brian had broken up; and Brian’s sense that he’d fucked up everything good in his life and had no hope of ever repairing things.

  “Okay, a lot happened since the last time I talked to you,” Benny said in what could only be described as understatement.

  “Yeah. You could say that.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  That was the question, wasn’t it?

  “Die lonely and wretched with nobody to love, and with nobody even knowing I’m dead until the smell coming from my house prompts them to alert the police?”

  Benny gave him a wry smile. “Well, that’s one option, I suppose. Or, you could apologize to Ca
ssie.”

  They were sitting in the apartment’s small living room, each of them with a cold longneck bottle of craft beer. Brian took a long swig of his, then shook his head.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s embarrassing. She told me my mother was yanking my chain, and she was right. I told her she was being unreasonable. I told her she was being too needy. How do I walk that back? How do I admit that she was right about everything and I was wrong? It’s too humiliating.”

  Benny leaned forward in her seat, her elbows resting on her knees, and looked at him. “Brian, you know I love you. It’s in that spirit of love that I’m about to tell you something I really think you need to hear.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You need to pull your head out of your ass.”

  He frowned. “Now, wait. That’s—”

  “True. That’s what it is. It’s true.”

  Thor leaned against Brian’s leg, and Brian gave him a rub. At least somebody still thought he was perfect.

  “Cassie accused your mother of something, and it turned out she was right,” Benny said. “And she accused you of neglecting her, and she was right about that, too. Stop me if I come to anything that’s not factually correct.”

  Brian said nothing.

  “Okay. So, it’s time to grovel.”

  “You’re not taking everything into account,” he protested. “Cassie could have been way more understanding. Okay, it’s true that my mother wasn’t sick. But I really thought she was! And Cassie wanted me to do, what? Just ignore that? Just walk away and hope for the best? Lisa’s my mother! You don’t just walk away when you think your mother’s in crisis.”

  “Sure,” Benny said. “And if she’s a stand-up person, she’ll admit that. But she can’t do that until you two have the conversation. Which you should be doing right now instead of sitting here drinking beer with me.”

  Brian’s shoulders sagged as he shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is. It really is that simple.”

  Was it? Brian would have liked to think so, but he doubted it. He’d told Cassie he would help her with her bakery, and he hadn’t done it. He’d proven to her that he was easy to manipulate and starved for his mother’s love and approval. And, probably worst of all, he’d talked about his relationship with Cassie as though she were a burden—just another problem woman pulling at him and demanding things from him. How did a relationship, especially a new one, come back from that?

  He wanted to turn back time to before the argument with Cassie, but that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t undo what had been done, couldn’t unsay what he’d said.

  The bottom line, really, was that he’d shown Cassie his greatest weakness, and now he doubted she would ever see him the same way again.

  How could she ever see him as anything other than a mama’s boy who was willing to jump through flaming hoops for the scheming, narcissistic woman who’d borne him?

  Didn’t that make him the exact kind of guy Cassie’s own mother had probably warned her against?

  “I just don’t think groveling is going to do it,” he told Benny.

  “Maybe not,” she said. “But you’re certainly not going to get anywhere if you don’t.”

  Feeling sad and dispirited, Brian hung around long enough to see Ike. He got the same advice from Ike as he had from Benny—he had to beg for Cassie’s forgiveness even if it meant annihilating his own male pride.

  Then, with no further reason to stay in Los Angeles, he made the drive north. He arrived at his house in San Luis Obispo late, after the bars were closed and the streets were virtually deserted.

  He took Thor around the block to pee, then brought him back inside and let him off the leash. Then he thought about unpacking, but instead, he just sank down onto his bed, fully clothed, and stared at the ceiling.

  Surely there was a way he could get Cassie back without groveling. Surely there was some angle he could work, some approach he hadn’t considered that would make this whole mess go away, so he and Cassie could proceed into their future together.

  On the other hand, to be a man in a relationship with a woman meant the occasional plea for forgiveness. He knew that from experience. So, he might as well get used to it.

  Or, he could decide this thing with Cassie was never meant to be, and he could move on.

  Love was just the fucking worst.

  Brian neither called nor texted Cassie for the next week. At first, it was because he hadn’t decided what to say. Then he’d waited too long and the delay made things even more awkward than they had already been. Eventually his feelings evolved, and he didn’t call her because he was angry that she hadn’t called him.

  He filled the time with activity so he wouldn’t have to think about her: He planned and then shot another YouTube video; he worked on the marketing for his show; he took Thor for more walks than even the dog felt was prudent; he cleaned out his refrigerator and then his sock drawer; he watched movies and played video games.

  While he did all of that, the same thought played on an infinite loop in his head: Cassie Cassie Cassie Cassie.

  “Have you called her yet?” Ike asked on the phone on Thursday, several days after the fight.

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Brian was lying on his sofa with Thor sprawled heavily over his lower legs. The afternoon sun was slanting in through the windows, creating elongated shadows.

  “Why should I call her? Why hasn’t she called me? That’s the question, Ike. That’s the real question.”

  Ike was silent for a long beat.

  “What?” Brian prompted him.

  “You know that thing you said to Benny about dying alone and being discovered by the smell? Yeah, well, that’s starting to look more and more likely.”

  On Friday, he almost cracked. He was lying in bed at about eight a.m., thinking about getting up but not wanting to do it. He stared at the ceiling and thought about the fact that Cassie’s grand opening was the following day. He thought about all she’d be doing today, her nervousness, her frantic activity. And he almost texted her to say good luck.

  He even composed the text before deleting it.

  He had so many reasons for staying silent: She’d wanted him to neglect his mother, who wasn’t actually sick but who might have been. She’d been impatient with him during his time in Los Angeles. And now, she was acting as though he didn’t exist.

  Those were the reasons he could freely admit. Other reasons were tucked into the back of his mind, behind some big boxes and crates so he wouldn’t have to look at them: He was embarrassed. He didn’t know how to admit he’d been wrong. He was scared that if he did admit it, she wouldn’t want him anymore. He felt so beaten down by his damaged relationship with his mother that he wasn’t sure he was capable of sustaining anything healthy and positive with a woman.

  All of that rose up in front of him like an impenetrable wall, and he didn’t know how to go around it or scale it.

  “Don’t eat me when I die at home alone,” Brian said to Thor. “Then again, I won’t be able to feed you, so do what you have to do, I guess.”

  Thor let out a high whine and rested his chin on Brian’s thigh.

  On Saturday, Brian told himself he was not going to see Cassie. He was absolutely not interested in her grand opening, or her bakery, or anything that had to do with her.

  Yes, he wished her well. He was happy for her that she finally had what she wanted. But that wasn’t the same as him wanting to be a part of it.

  Because he definitely did not.

  The only reason he drove to Cambria at all was to get a piece of Linn’s olallieberry pie. And why shouldn’t he? It was really good pie.

  As he made his way up Highway 1 and toward Cambria, he said to himself, Pie. That’s all I want. Just pie.

  If he overshot Linn’s as he drove down Main Street, it was only because he was distracted. He hadn’t int
ended to go as far as Cassie’s Cakery, and if he had, it was only by mistake.

  At ten a.m., the place was jumping with activity. The tiny parking lot was decorated with balloons and a banner declaring the bakery’s official opening. All of the spots were taken, and a line extended out the front door. People were chatting and milling around in the front garden, some with muffins or scones, some with take-out coffee cups.

  “Wow.” Brian said the single word to no one as he cruised past the bakery. His feelings clutched at his chest. She was inside the building somewhere. She was having the biggest day of her life.

  Without him.

  Suddenly, he didn’t want pie anymore. He wanted a scone, or maybe a muffin.

  A latte wouldn’t be so bad, either.

  Chapter 37

  He had to wait in line for fifteen minutes before he got into the building and up to the cash register. Inside, the glass display case was full of baked goods: rolls, bagels, scones, cookies, and sumptuously decorated cakes. Lacy—who hadn’t seen him yet, thankfully—was rushing around making espresso drinks and pouring coffee.

  A red-haired guy with a sleeve of tattoos was working the register, taking orders and making change.

  When Brian got to the front of the line, he asked for a latte and a scone, since those seemed to be the most popular items. At the sound of his voice, Lacy turned around, saw him—and froze, her mouth open in surprise.

  “Oh.” She was holding a stainless steel pitcher of steamed milk in her hand, a white cotton apron wrapped around her waist.

  At that moment, Cassie came out of the kitchen carrying a platter of cookies. “Lacy, these are ready to go out. Could you—” Like her sister, Cassie froze when she saw Brian. The plate she was holding tipped, and a cookie slid off and fell to the floor before she noticed and leveled it.

  “Brian,” she said.

  “Hi, Cass.” He tried on a smile, but it didn’t seem to fit right. “Congratulations. It looks like the opening is going great.”