by Jiffy Kate
A shuffle of people coming through the door is my saving grace, and thankfully, it’s Annie and Sam, followed by my daddy and Kay. A flood of relief rushes through me, and I take sanctuary in one of Annie’s hugs.
“You should’ve waited and rode with us,” she chides.
“I didn’t want to impose,” I tell her, leaning over to accept a kiss on my cheek from Sam.
“We stopped by to check on you, and you were already gone,” Kay adds in.
“I’m fine, guys. Really. I just thought I’d drive myself in case I needed to go home early or stay late,” I say, shrugging. Last time I checked, I’m twenty-two, not twelve. That’s what I want to add, but I don’t, because they’re just their overprotective selves, and they can’t help it.
“Hey, Cam,” my dad says, pulling me into a hug. “How’re you feelin’?” He pulls back and looks at me with the eye of a skilled doctor.
“Feelin’ fine, Daddy,” I assure him.
Deacon shows us to a large booth he has saved for us, and it gives us a great view of the stage.
“Tucker is supposed to set up in about ten minutes,” he says. “I’m gonna go check to see where his ass is at.”
Annie swats at him, telling him to be nice.
I smile at him, loving that some things never change, like Deacon and Tucker getting on each other’s nerves.
Janie didn’t sit with us, and I see her sitting at a pub-style table closer to the stage. I watch her for a minute, wondering what she’s really like. I’ve only ever seen her when she’s with Deacon, and we’ve never talked much. I wonder how serious the two of them are, and when I think about that my chest aches.
She looks around the room until she spots Deacon and then her eyes follow him around. She doesn’t seem clingy, just like she wants to be where he’s at, and I get that. Deacon is like sunshine on a warm summer’s day. Everyone wants to be in his presence. I don’t blame her. But I don’t like her. And I have no idea where that thought just came from.
I clear my throat and sit up a little taller in the booth, trying to listen in on the conversations going on around me and get my mind off the pretty girl across the room.
She’s who Deacon wants.
She’s who Deacon deserves.
She’s a successful student who was accepted to medical school.
She’s beautiful and mature.
She’s everything I’m not.
When my brother’s boisterous voice comes over the sound system, my attention snaps to the stage, and I can’t help the smile on my face. He’s crazy and a little over the top sometimes and the perfect distraction to my downward spiraling thoughts.
I look around the restaurant and notice that the place has filled up since we sat down.
Tucker welcomes everyone and introduces himself, giving Micah and Deacon a hard time in the process, and then the music starts and the dance floor fills up.
I spend the next hour enjoying the atmosphere, the good food, and laughing at the crazy people I call family. It’s exactly what I needed. But by nine o’clock, I’m practically passing out at the table.
Before the party’s even getting started, I start telling everyone goodnight.
My daddy and Kay promise they’ll be right behind me. Annie tries to talk me into waiting on them, but I seriously can’t wait another minute. Lately, when I get tired, I just have to go to bed. There’re no two ways around it.
On my way out of the restaurant, I spot Micah in a back corner, taking in the crowd with a proud smile on his face. As I walk over, he smiles wider.
“I was just getting ready to come over and join the table,” he says, motioning behind me.
“I know. I’m a party pooper,” I tell him, laughing. “But I’m so tired.”
“Understandable,” he says, giving me a hug and kissing the top of my head.
“This place is great,” I tell him. “You and Deacon did such a good job.”
“Thanks, Cam.”
“Tell Deacon I said bye, okay?”
“I will. Drive safe and call someone when you get home,” he says with a pointed look.
“Yes, sir,” I reply with a salute. “Oh, tell Tucker I’ll see him tomorrow, or he can always come crash at the cottage with me tonight.”
“I’ll tell him,” he says, smiling. “I’m glad you’re home, Cam.”
“Me too,” I tell him.
It’s under circumstances I never could’ve predicted, but I’m happy. At least, I’m trying to be. I have to be because someone else is counting on me now.
Deacon
Present
“DEACON, DON’T RUSH. YOU DON’T have to talk right now. You just need to rest and let your throat heal,” my mom tells me.
I shake my head again. I know I need to rest, but I also need to tell them what happened and get this part over with.
Cami, who is sitting in my bed with me, hands me a cup of water. When the nurse walked in a few minutes ago, she wasn’t happy to see Cami in bed with me, but I don’t give a damn. I want her as close to me as possible. The few feet between my bed and the chair is too far right now.
I swallow the water in small sips before giving the cup back to her. As she turns, I catch a glimpse of her solemn, but beautiful, face. I can see the worry still weighing on her. It’s in the way her smile doesn’t reach her cheeks and her eyes aren’t their typical sky blue.
I give her a wink, hoping it will ease her worries and let her know I’m okay.
I don’t want her to know how scared I was when shit got real in the restaurant. I don’t want her to know that the last thing I thought about when I hit the ground was how much I hoped she knows I love her and that she’s my whole fucking world. I don’t want her to know, because then she might realize just how close I came to dying, and I don’t want her to think about that.
All I’ve ever wanted was to make her happy.
This last day and a half wasn’t part of the plan.
“When I got to Pockets, I could smell smoke from outside,” I start. My throat is scratchy from the tube they had down it helping me breathe. “I didn’t realize how bad it was until I went inside. I tried to find a fire extinguisher, but the smoke was so bad I couldn’t see. That’s when a shelf or somethin’ fell on me. The next thing I remember is wakin’ up here.”
Cami lays her head on my shoulder and wraps her arm around my waist, comforting me with her warmth. She’s always been there for me. Her presence has always calmed me and this moment is no different.
I look at my parents when I ask, “Is Pockets gone?”
Mama can’t look me in the eyes, so my dad answers. “It’s not a total loss, but it doesn’t look good either. I’m sorry, son.”
I lay back in the bed and close my eyes. This has to be the most I’ve cried in all my life. I know Pockets is only a restaurant, and we can rebuild, but Micah and I put our hearts and souls into that place, probably even more than we did Grinders, and it fucking hurts that all that hard work went up in flames.
The most important thing is that no one else was hurt. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if someone else got hurt in the fire. My injuries will heal, we’ll build a bigger and better Pockets, and life will go on.
Deacon
Past
SPRING TIME IS UPON US, which means it’s been raining a lot, but the clear skies today are giving us a much-needed respite. While I drive over to Janie’s apartment to pick her up for our lunch date, I roll my window down and let the warm breeze blow in. It’s exactly what I need to refresh me after a week of long nights at Grinders.
When we first opened, I’d stay up all night and do paperwork, then go home and stress about things just enough to keep me from sleeping. After a few weeks of putting up with my mood swings, Micah and Janie had an intervention and sent me home with strict orders to sleep for as long as it takes to get my shit back together.
I slept off and on for two days before I was bored out of my skull. I went to work that night and, after apo
logizing to Micah and the staff, I grabbed an apron and headed to the kitchen to help cook. I’ve never looked back.
Now, I make sure to schedule downtime so I won’t get too stressed out. I just love it so much,—the job and the people—and I want us all to succeed. Running a restaurant takes the entire team, and I’ve learned I have to take better care of myself if I’m to be the best coach I can be.
Another thing I had to start scheduling is alone time with Janie. I know how awful that sounds, but if I didn’t put our dates on my calendar, along with a few reminders, I’d let myself get too busy and forget. Janie is important to me, and she’s been there for me through every stage of the restaurant. So, I’m trying to make it a priority to show her how much I appreciate her.
With her being in medical school, it gets harder and harder to set aside time for us. We’re both so busy, but making lunch dates a couple of times a week seems to work well for us. With today being so beautiful outside, I decided to pick up some muffulettas and drinks before picking Janie up and taking her to a local park. Truth be told, it’s not a lot of fun visiting restaurants when I spend so much time at Grinders. A picnic outside will be perfect.
I knock on Janie’s door, and she pops her head out to let me know she needs to get her shoes.
As I wait for her outside, I hear Cami’s ringtone coming from my phone.
“Hey, Cami. What’s up?”
I immediately tense up, my blood running cold when I hear her crying hysterically.
“Cami, sweetheart, you gotta settle down. I don’t know what you’re sayin’. Take a deep breath and start over.”
Without thinking, I walk back to my truck and get inside, firing up the engine.
“I . . . I’m on my way to the Women’s Hospital . . . in Baton Rouge,” she sobs.
“What? What’s going on? Are you driving? Maybe you should pull over while you talk to me and calm down,” I tell her. My mind is racing with worst-case scenarios, but I try to stay focused. If something were really bad, she’d be in an ambulance, right?”
Cami takes a deep, shuddering breath before she speaks again. “I’m okay, but I can’t stop drivin’. I have to get to the hospital. I’m havin’ contractions.”
What? That can’t be happening yet; it’s too early.
“Cami, I’m gonna meet you at the ER, you hear me? I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” I promise her.
“Okay, I’m almost there. Thanks, Deke.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Cami. I’m glad you called. Just be safe, you hear?”
I put the truck in reverse and back out, but when I start to drive forward, I have to slam on my brakes because Janie is standing right in front of me.
Shit. I completely forgot where I was.
She walks up to me with her hands on her hips. This is not going to go over well.
“Hey, baby, I’m sorry, but I gotta go. Cami just called, and she’s on her way to the hospital.”
“And? What does that have to do with you?” she asks.
“You can’t be serious right now? She’s family and something’s wrong with the baby. I have to be there for her. I want to be.”
“Of course, you’d rather be with your precious Camille than with me.”
I slam my fist on the steering wheel. I’m wasting time arguing with her when I should be on my way to Cami. And her shitty attitude is pissing me off. I grab the bags of food from the passenger seat and hand them to her.
“Look, I know the timin’ sucks, but I’m not abandoning Cami.”
“No, you’re just abandoning me,” Janie spits out, rejecting the food.
“Fuck,” I groan, letting my head fall to the steering wheel. “Whatever. I’ve gotta go.”
Carefully, I drive around her before speeding out of her apartment complex. I know I’ll have to make this right later, but right now, the only thing I can focus on is getting to the hospital and being with Cami.
After finding a parking spot, I run inside the building just in time to see Cami being put in a wheelchair.
“Cami!” I yell out, getting the attention of her and the nurse pushing her.
The look of relief that covers Cami’s face is more than enough to prove I made the right choice. Cami needs me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her down.
She reaches her hand out to me, and I take it, reassured by how strong her grip is.
I squeeze her hand and wink at her. “You’re gonna be just fine.”
She nods her head, and I don’t know if she’s agreeing with me or trying to reassure us both, but she manages to give me a small smile before the nurse ushers us down the hall.
With rushed precision, Cami is moved to a bed and hooked up to a monitor before I even sit down. Cami tells the nurse her personal information before explaining the symptoms she’s experiencing. Nurse Patty, she introduces herself, checks the monitor and tells us the baby looks fine and that the doctor will be in soon before leaving the room.
I pull my chair to the side of her bed and grab her hand again. Her shoulders shake as she cries, rubbing her belly with her other hand.
“Shhh, baby.” I kiss the top of her hand and leave my mouth there, speaking into her skin. “You’re gonna be fine. Both of you.”
“I’m so scared, Deacon,” she whispers.
Her words tear at my heart, and I want nothing more than to make everything right. I fucking hate that this is out of my control.
I move her hair away from her face. “I know you are, Cami, but you have to stay strong, okay? Nurse Patty said the baby looks fine, so we’re gonna focus on that. Can you tell me what started all of this?”
“I was workin’ at the cafe when my stomach started feelin’ . . . tight and uncomfortable. It was weird. It’s not that it hurt, really, but it had never happened before, so I didn’t know what to do. I went and sat down at an empty table, and it stopped briefly. When it started up again, I realized I was having contractions. I panicked and told Sally I had to leave before I jumped into my truck. I called my doctor while I was driving and they told me to go straight to the ER. I couldn’t get ahold of Daddy or Kay or your parents, so I called you. I’m sorry if I’m keepin’ you from somethin’ important.”
I try not to be hurt that she didn’t call me first, because why would she? It makes perfect sense that she’d call her parents, then mine, but it still bothers me. I can’t think about why right now, though.
We both stare at the monitor, the one that’s attached to the band around her belly. The readings seem to be even. I think that’s good. I’ve never been around anyone who’s pregnant before.
“What if somethin’s wrong?” she whispers, letting her fears out into the open.
“Don’t think about that,” I tell her, kissing her hand again. “Let’s talk about something else while we wait.”
“I got a check in the mail last week,” she says. “I’ve meant to ask you about it.”
“A check?” I ask, confused why she’d need to ask me about it.
“Yeah,” she says, repositioning herself on the flimsy hospital pillow. “It was from Tristan. It didn’t come with a note or any explanation. But in the memo line, it said payment in full for seven 18 x 24 canvases.”
She looks at me like she expects me to say something, but I let her finish.
“That sounds a lot like the paintings from my exhibit,” she says, a bit of hedging in her voice.
“I’m glad he followed through,” I tell her, not wanting to offer up any more information than I have to. The truth is that Tucker and I went and had a chat with Tristan. Originally, we were going to get her paintings but then decided that he could do her one better than that. He could sell them and give Cami one hundred percent of the sales, no commission.
“Did you buy my paintings?” she asks. Her eyebrows are furrowed together like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“Some lucky motherfucker,” I tell her, smilin
g.
“So, Tristan sold my paintings?”
“Sounds like it.”
“The check was for way more than what it should’ve been,” she adds. “It’s like he didn’t take his commission. Tristan always gets his commission.”
“Not this time. He already got more than he deserved.” He never deserved Cami. He got more than he deserved the first day he met her. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. If I have anything to do with it, he never will again. And he’ll never touch this baby.
She relaxes and gives me a genuine smile.
A short while later, the doctor comes in and, after a brief examination, he tells Cami that she’s experiencing something called Braxton Hicks contractions. It’s not anything too serious, but she’ll need to be careful not to overdo it for the remaining time of her pregnancy.
“Would you like to see your baby?” the doctor asks Camille.
“Sure. I’ll never turn that down,” she answers. Her excitement is contagious, and I find myself anxious to see the baby, too.
Once the ultrasound equipment is set up and the doctor has the wand-thing on her belly, I lean over to get a better look. I’ve never been in this situation before, so I’m curious, but I also don’t want to intrude on Cami’s moment.
“Deke, come here,” she tells me.
“Are you sure?” I ask, wanting to be closer . . . always wanting to be closer to her.
“Of course, silly. Hurry.” She reaches out for me, and I take her hand, coming to stand by her side. For some people this might seem weird, but for us, it feels natural. I can’t imagine anyone else standing beside her. I wouldn’t want anyone else standing beside her.
With my free hand, I massage the area of my chest over my heart, because thinking about someone else besides me standing here makes my chest ache. But I don’t know what to do with that feeling, because while I’m here, with Cami, my girlfriend is pissed at me for ruining our lunch date.
Part of me feels like the biggest douchebag ever, but the other part of me feels like it has no other choice than to stand right here, holding Cami’s hand.
