Crazy Cupid Love

by Amanda Heger

  “How many times do we have to tell you to be careful?” Her mother gave her the Look. “This is the last thing we need right now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Eliza said again.

  The doctor looked back and forth between them with one eyebrow cocked. She rubbed her toe, then turned back to her chart.

  Tense silence filled the room.

  “It’s fine,” the doctor said. “Accidents happen. Now back to what I was saying…”

  No match. Thank the gods.

  “Mr. Herman should be ready to see you in forty-five minutes to an hour,” the doctor continued. “Hopefully less. The cardiac unit is on the third floor. If you want to take his things, there’s a waiting area—”

  Eliza’s mom was already gathering the clothes and shoes in her arms. With each movement, a little more color seeped back into her complexion. “Thank you, Doctor. Come on, kids.”

  “Sorry again,” Eliza said as she followed her mother and brother out of the room. By the time they made it through the waiting room and to the elevators in the hall, she was struggling to keep up with her mother’s long strides. “Mom,” she began. “Please wait, I’m—”

  “Not now. I can’t handle your carelessness. Not today.” Her mom shoved the clothes and shoes into Eliza’s arms, then pressed the up button. “Go home and get your father some fresh clothes. He hates hospital gowns, and that shirt has cake stains. Grab his wallet off the dresser too.” She pressed the button three more times in quick succession and held out her car keys.

  Eliza’s feet didn’t move. Her mother had never bothered to hide her disappointment in Eliza’s life choices, but forcing her out of the hospital over one tiny mishap? “Can’t we call someone—”

  “Eliza, please. Just this once, do what I ask.”

  She contemplated pointing out every other time she’d done what her mother had asked—including attending the now-forsaken birthday party. But the elevator dinged, and Eliza took a deep breath. Her mother was just anxious and snappy. They were all just anxious and snappy. Maybe getting out of here for a few minutes would do her some good. Plus, if she left now, she could be back in time to see her father before visiting hours ended.

  “Fine.” She turned toward her brother. “If you guys want me to pick up anything for you, text me,” Eliza said.

  Her mother nodded as the elevator doors slid shut between them. “And, Eliza?” she asked, sticking out her hand and forcing the doors to reopen.

  “Yeah?” Eliza waited, silently pleading for her mother’s forgiveness.

  “For the gods’ sake, don’t injure anyone else on the way.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Eliza rolled down the windows of her mom’s black Camry and drank in the fresh evening air. With every mile between her and the hospital, she reminded herself that her father was going to be okay. By the time she passed Gold Lea Elementary—where she’d been mercilessly teased by Jonathan Ellis and half her classmates ever since that fateful eighth birthday party—her heart rate had returned to normal.

  She drove along the curvy road, letting the wind whip her hair into a style that could rival Medusa’s. She’d tie it back when she got home, but for now, all she wanted was to relax into the breeze and give her brain a break from the hamster wheel of anxiety she’d been riding all afternoon.

  Eliza slowed as she passed Lizzie’s Five and Dime. As a kid, she’d spent every cent of her allowance on their saltwater taffy. The building always seemed like it might fall down around them, but—she slowed the car to a crawl—someone had given the old store a makeover since she’d last come this way. Fresh white paint covered the outer walls, and a ten-foot-tall cherub sat in the parking lot. Two more infantilized Cupids held up the sign on the front, and every i in “Lizzie’s Five and Dime” had been dotted with a red heart.

  “Gross,” she muttered before hitting the gas. Just when she thought this little town couldn’t get any more Cupid-obsessed, it proved her wrong. Every time. It wasn’t like other towns didn’t have Erosians. Anyone who knew what they were looking for could spot at least one Cupid in every major city in the world. Not to mention all the Muses, Maenads, Furies, and Paieons still pretending to be everyday humans. But Gold Lea had been the first town where Cupids had gone public, and the Chamber of Commerce had been trying to cash in on that bit of notoriety for decades now.

  At first, it had worked. For a small fee, tourists could hop on a bus and take a guided tour of the town’s “historical landmarks.” It started at the town square, where the head of the Erosian subcouncil had outed himself and a few others one night after a fight with his wife and too many whiskey sours. Things had never been the same. The bus tour proceeded to the bar where rival Cupid families supposedly settled their differences (false, mostly), went across the bridge where a sitting U.S. president had been rumored to have been struck by a Cupid at the request of a foreign operative (true, mostly), and ended at a strip mall where a half dozen kitschy shops sold souvenirs like love “charms” and “potions” (all false, entirely). Twenty years ago, business boomed for everyone in Gold Lea, including Eliza’s parents.

  Eventually, most “love tourists” grew bored with Gold Lea’s small-town charm and moved on to bigger, brighter cities. Most of the Cupids followed. The tourists who still came to Eliza’s hometown were either elderly people looking for a quick weekend trip, or hipsters coming to gawk at the old-timey charm. Basically, Gold Lea was to love what Branson, Missouri, was to country music.

  Eliza pulled into her parents’ driveway, rolled up the windows, and shifted to Park. As soon as her father was home and settled, she was getting out of this town once and for all. In the dark, she fumbled for the e-brake in her mom’s car.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  She jumped, cracking her head on the steering wheel. Son of a… She grasped for the seat belt while her brain tried to place the man peering down at her from the passenger-side window.

  “Hello?” he said.

  No.

  Not just a man. An underwear-model-worthy man with the perfect amount of five-o’clock shadow and cheekbones that could cut diamonds. A navy tie hung loosely around his neck, and the top button of his shirt lay open, practically daring her to look away from the tan skin at the base of his throat.

  It was the worst thing Eliza had ever seen.

  TURN BACK NOW. ABANDON SHIP. THIS WAY LIES MADNESS. Her mind screeched its usual warnings like a tornado siren, but she couldn’t look away.

  Over the years, in her attempt to live a “normal” life, she’d constructed an intricate maze of rules and guidelines that she followed at all times. Number one on that list? Stay away from hot guys.

  On a good day, her clumsiness hit a six on the Richter scale. Add the fumbling, sweaty awkwardness of attraction to the mix, and Eliza became a walking catastrophe.

  “Eliza?”

  “Do I know…” She narrowed her eyes. There was a familiar seriousness in his gaze. Something nostalgic about the way he dug his hands into his pockets. Something… “Jake?”

  Eliza shoved open the car door and tried to push all the dirty thoughts she’d just had from her mind as she stepped out into the driveway. “Jake Sanders? I thought you were in Peru or something.”

  “Brazil.”

  “Brazil then. What are you doing here?” She tried to smooth her hair. When that failed, she tried not to notice how mind-bendingly attractive her childhood best friend had become. They’d known each other since elementary school, when—as the only three school-age Cupids in town—Jake, Eliza, and Elijah had been enrolled in PSC (Public School Cupiding) classes together. Every Wednesday night, they’d sit in a classroom for two hours, drinking juice boxes and learning about the history of Cupids. On the weekends, Jake would come to her house, where they would conduct elaborate reenactments of the War of the Titans from the tree house in Eliza’s backyard. But in middle a
nd high school, the two of them had drifted apart the way people do. Especially when one of those people is class president and captain of the track team (Jake) and the other is a walking disaster (Eliza).

  After high school, Jake enlisted in the Cupid Corps. For the last ten years, he’d been taking cases on assignment in impoverished and war-torn areas. Aside from a brief visit over Christmas nine years ago, Eliza hadn’t seen him since.

  “I moved back to town about a week ago,” he said. “Doing some odd jobs while I get reacclimated.”

  “At Dionysus again?” she asked. When they’d been teenagers, he’d worked there as a bar back. The raucous restaurant and bar sat dead center in the Agora—a building at the edge of town where Descendants had gathered for decades, undetected by “regular” humans. Eliza, the ultimate clumsy introvert with an unheard-of level of enchantment, hated the place. People stared and pointed when she walked by. It made her feel like a lab rat.

  “No.” He looked down at his feet, then back up at her. “Doing some deliveries right now. This one is for your parents. Are they here?” He held out a large manila envelope.

  “No.” She started to say more, but the words snagged in her throat. “They’re out.”

  “Can you sign for this then?”

  She took his tablet and scrawled her name at the bottom of the screen. “Here you go.”

  Jake handed her the thick envelope and flashed her a grin. It was same grin—the one that rose a smidge higher on the left—that had always seemed kind of dorky when they were kids. As adults? Totally different story. “Happy Day-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, by the way,” he said.

  Despite everything, Eliza let out a laugh. “Finally, someone around here understands me.”

  “I aim to please.” His dark eyes locked on hers for a half second. “I can’t believe your parents finally gave up on the whole Herman birthday extravaganza thing.”

  “Oh, they didn’t. We already had cake. Blood and tears were shed, yadda, yadda.”

  “You did all the blood shedding before dark? The Hermans have really gotten soft over the years.” There it was again. That grin. “Here. I have something for you.”

  Jake took a step closer. Miniature fireworks went off in her chest, leaving trails of nervous energy in her stomach. He’d become so handsome. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, a jawline that could make Adonis weep. And he’d been there for all her childhood traumas and celebrations. The hot days they’d chased down the ice-cream truck in bare feet. The games of checkers on her parents’ back porch. The awkward here-come-the-braces-and-puberty years.

  “You brought me a gift?” Eliza asked.

  “You think I was going to step inside this house on your birthday without a gift in hand? No way. Your parents would have eaten me alive.”

  “That’s fair.” For the first time on this godsforsaken day, Eliza felt herself relax. They could have been ten years old and playing Battletoads again, the way everything fell into place. Like life had never taken them in separate directions.

  “Here.” He produced a small, rectangular package from his back pocket.

  The paper was a plain navy blue—not a Valentine remnant in sight—and the featherlight present crinkled when she turned it over. She smiled up at him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  He reached for the gift with a boyish look in his eyes. “If you don’t want it—”

  Eliza whipped it out of his reach. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Don’t get too excited. It’s nothing big.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Eliza pried open the wrapping. An all-too-familiar cartoon kangaroo stared up at her from the tiny package of treats. A rush of nostalgia washed over her. “Dunkaroos? Dunkaroos, the best snack ever made? Dunkaroos, the sole reason I made it through childhood in one piece?”

  “I think you’re forgetting something.” Jake gave her a pointed look.

  “Okay. Dunkaroos, the reason I made it through childhood, in addition to your friendship.”

  His face broke into a wide smile. “I’ll accept that.”

  “Where did you find these? I didn’t think they made them anymore.”

  “Canada. I was in Vancouver last week.”

  “So you smuggled them into the country in the dark of night, risking everything, just for my birthday?”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “Something like that.”

  Eliza’s finger caught on the rough edge of the plastic container. He’d thought of her. Across hundreds of miles and dozens of years, Jake had thought of her. And yet… “Hey. Wait a minute. Was this a twin pack, Sanders? Did you eat the other half of my birthday present?”

  He shrugged. “It was a quality check. For your own good.”

  “My own good?”

  “Eliza.” Jake reached out and took the cookies from her hand. The movement brought him close enough that, for one heart-stopping second, Eliza thought about what it would be like to kiss him. A thought she hadn’t contemplated in nearly a decade, though once upon a time she’d thought about it enough times to fill a novel or three. But then he stepped back and pointed to the grinning kangaroo. “These are Canadian. Who knows what our northern neighbors are doing with our beloved national snacks? What if I’d brought these home, handed them to you, and you’d realized the icing was poutine flavored? You would have been devastated.”

  “Poutine? Really?”

  “Really. You should be thanking me.”

  Eliza’s throat grew thick with emotion, and the corners of her eyes threatened to release more than a few tears. Everything about this day was simply too much—the feelings, the memories, and the adrenaline spikes and crashes. “Thank you.”

  “Hey.” Jake’s hand brushed her shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. You know me, always overemotional about my snacks.”

  “Eliza.”

  “It’s just been a long, rough day. This has been the best part. I mean, it would have been no matter what, because…Dunkaroos…but thank you.”

  His dark brows furrowed. “You want to go out for a birthday drink and talk about it? I’ve got one more delivery, but I could swing by and pick you up in an hour?”

  Catching up with her old friend over a couple of beers and a package of Dunkaroos sounded amazing. But her dad was still in the hospital, and if she didn’t get there soon, she’d miss visiting hours altogether. “I can’t. Not tonight. I’m sorry—”

  He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a ton to do tonight anyway. It was good to see you, Eliza.”

  “You too,” she said. But inside, she wished she could ask him to stay there with her. Then, at least for a little while, they’d be connected before adulthood blew them in different directions. “Thanks again.”

  But Jake was already to his car. He gave her a quick wave, backed out of the driveway, and disappeared into the sunset.

  Chapter 3

  “Erosian business establishments have historically been close family firms due to the passage of ‘the knack’ through bloodlines and the secrecy demanded by other Descendants on the Cosmic Council. Since the controversial Cupid Disclosure of the twentieth century, the industry has rapidly consolidated. Many centuries-old family practices have gone out of business or been absorbed by younger, more modern start-ups.”

  —Titans of Love: The Business of Modern Affection

  Eliza stared into the murky depths of her cold hospital coffee. After throwing a handful of her father’s things into a duffel bag and racing back across town, she’d made it to the third floor of the hospital fifteen minutes before visiting hours ended.

  Which was five minutes ago.

  She hoisted the duffel bag onto her forearm and wandered back to the nurses’ station. “Hi,” she said to the man now sitting behind the desk.

  He didn’t look up. “Yes?”

  “My
father’s a patient. My mother’s visiting with him now, but the nurse—”

  “Only one visitor allowed at a time.” He checked his watch, then continued staring at the computer. “Visiting hours are almost over. You’d be better off coming back tomorrow.”

  A hard lump rose in Eliza’s throat, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or scream. Her fingers squeezed the Styrofoam cup hard enough that the last dredges of coffee sloshed against its sides. “Look. My father had a heart attack, and I just want to see him for five minutes. The nurse who was here said she was going to let my mom—his current visitor—know so that I could see him. If that’s not going to happen, I’d be glad to go down there and let her know myself.”

  The man looked up with genuine concern. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his skin sagged as though he’d been awake for days on end. “Ma’am…”

  Eliza’s eyes stung with hot tears, and the tip of her nose itched. She needed to stop talking soon, or she was going to have a full-fledged breakdown in front of half of Saint Isabel’s Hospital. “Timothy Herman,” she managed between sniffles. “What is his room number, please?”

  “Ma’am, I believe this is—”

  Eliza glanced at the clock. Eight minutes left before visiting hours ended. “What is his room number?” she repeated, louder this time.

  “Eliza, please. I had to finish talking to your father about the business.” The click of her mother’s shoes on the hard tile followed the words. In the span of a breath, her mother stood at her side. “I’m so sorry,” she said to the man behind the desk. “It’s been an emotional day for all of us.”

  Understatement of the year. Her mother’s words rubbed Eliza’s already-raw nerves. Yes, it had been an emotional day for everyone, including Eliza. And, as usual, her mother had seemed to forget about Eliza’s existence. But she didn’t have the time or energy to fight this same old fight today—especially with the last minutes of visiting hours ticking by.