by Karen Renee
I tapped the pause button on the YouTube video running on Gabe’s phone. My eyes lit up, and I grinned at him.
“My God! Tell me that’s available as a ringtone. Do not introduce me to a song that isn’t available as a ringtone I can assign to my ‘Mother,’” I declared, while imitating Danzig.
He chuckled. I loved making him chuckle, but I had to push that aside.
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s available as a ringtone, and if it isn’t, I’ll get a buddy to make it one for you.”
I wanted to kiss him for that, but that wouldn’t do. I sighed. “Thanks.”
“So, you named a cat Mom, because you couldn’t call your mother that?”
I shook my head. “No, it was because when she kept coming to our house, I talked Dad into letting me keep her. That very night, she had kittens, and I hadn’t named her, but I was nine at the time and struggling to come up with a name for her. Dad said, ‘You’re only keeping the Mama-cat, honey.’ And I knew, her name would be ‘Mom-cat.’”
Telling him that made me smile, but then it made me cry because I had so many good memories of Mom.
“Weird,” Gabe muttered.
“What’s weird?”
His lips twisted wryly. “My brothers call Dad ‘Pop,’ but he never blinked at me calling him ‘Dad’. Hell, I wonder why I do it, now that I hear about your mother.”
I tilted my chin to give him a look. “How about because your father, unlike my mother, doesn’t resent you or your existence?”
His brows drew together. “What?”
I shrugged. “She loves me, but I wasn’t planned, and she wasn’t pleased being saddled with a child again. Especially since Serafina was fifteen by the time I was born. I don’t know if my sister’s teenage angst fed my mother’s feelings toward me or what, but they both love to gang up on me. Hell, Sera’s the one who called to tell me about Mom, and she did it off-handedly. Can you believe that shit?”
Belatedly, I realized saying all that exposed too much and forced more tears to stream down my face.
Gabe frowned, and got out of the car. Next thing I knew, he opened my door and made an upward swatting motion in the air for me to get out. When I was clear of the door, he slammed it closed, took my keys and bleeped the locks.
“You’re comin’ up to my place.”
My head reared back. “Why? You’ve got things to do, you look like you just worked out, and I have to study—”
“You lost your cat of fourteen years, and your bitch of a sister’s the one who told you about it. You’re comin’ to my place.”
I put my purse strap on my shoulder, and my hand went to my hip. “No, Gabe. I’m not.”
A devilish grin he never aimed my way appeared. He crouched, put his shoulder to my belly, and my ass went in the air.
“Gabriel Sullivan, put me down!”
He chuckled! As much as I wanted to smack him for it, I loved it even more than usual because I could feel it, since his shoulder jostled under me.
My purse succumbed to gravity and fell. It was a bag with no zipper, and I flung an arm out to keep it from going upside down and spilling all my things. I growled in a high pitch.
“Gabe! All my shit’s gonna fall out of my purse. So, put me down! Now!”
My feet suddenly landed on concrete and I righted my torso to see Gabe standing a step down from me on the stairwell. It was the only way for me to be face to face with him since he was five inches taller than me. Looking in his mischievous blue eyes, I wondered for the one-hundred-and-ninety-seventh time why I tortured myself this way. I wanted him so badly. Standing here like this, I wanted to kiss him more than I ever had, but I couldn’t. Not just because of our friendship, but because I’d probably launch myself at him which would make both of us tumble down the concrete staircase.
Gabe’s question proved he couldn’t read the thoughts in my head. “You gonna argue with me about comin’ up?”
I pouted for a moment. “No. As long as you let me ambulate to your place on my own.”
He chuckled again. “‘Ambulate’. You’re such a nerd, Cassie.”
I turned on my heel for the next flight of stairs. “Like you didn’t know.”
14
Rules to Day Drinking
Gabe
I CLOSED AND LOCKED the door behind us, wondering why I was doing this. Then I saw Cassie’s puffy eyes and pink nose, along with the tear tracks down her face and I remembered. We had finally set things back to rights after I fucked up and seeing her so distraught pissed me off. Hearing the fucked-up way her sister told her about her cat especially pissed me off.
After she told that story about her mother, I felt happy my mother left me as an infant. But that feeling was short-lived. Even though my mother had recently attempted reconciliation, I still harbored a fair amount of ill-will toward her. Many people gave me grief about that. Dad, Rainey, Marnie, Cecilia, and even Clint, said I was being too harsh. Cassandra knew all about it, but had never said I was out of bounds. Part of me reflexively said she was lovable for that alone, but another part of me said that’s what good friends do.
I shook my head and moved to the cabinet where we kept the Crown Royal. As I grabbed the liquor, I pulled down two matching glasses.
“Uh, Gabe. It’s the middle of the day,” Cassie said from the breakfast bar.
I put everything in front of her. “Your cat died, your sister told you in a bitchy way –even if you didn’t say that yourself, I’m sure it was– and all of that pisses me off. So, if ever there was a time to day-drink, I’d say this is it.”
Her lips twisted, and I didn’t know why I never noticed how damn plump they were until now. No, that wasn’t true. I’d noticed when Brenden and the other assholes made that bet with me. Seemed I had been shoving that to the back of my mind for the past two and a half years. Clint’s words came back to me. ‘The truth comes out when you’re drunk.’ I wasn’t even drunk this time and I wanted to make a pass at her.
My timing would be shit again if I did that. Dammit.
She shrugged. “You’re right. But only one. I’m a light-weight and I’ve never had straight whiskey.”
I grinned and poured a finger into both glasses. “Tell me something I don’t know, Daughtry.”
She picked up her glass, sniffed it and her nose wrinkled. I held my glass aloft and she raised hers.
The door unlocked and opened just as I said, “To Mom.”
“To Mom,” she replied.
Brock closed the door and crossed his arms on his chest. “Cassie is a miracle worker after all. She’s got you toasting our mother.”
Cassie had taken a sip of her drink and coughed immediately. She shook her head at Brock. “No. Not your mother. My cat named Mom.”
“Who died today,” I added.
Brock shook his head and moved toward his room. “I’m sorry to hear that, Cassie. Losing a pet is always rough.”
She pressed her lips together, nodded, and took in a deep breath as tears welled in her eyes.
I clinked my glass against hers. “Drink up. No more tears, nerd. Tell me about your Mom.”
She chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I didn’t know there were rules to day-drinking, Gabe. And, just to say, you need to put something in this glass for me, because no way can I down another sip of this stuff.”
I winked. “How are we friends, again?”
With the fridge door open, I said, “Well, you’re gonna have to be good with ginger ale, because everything else we have in here doesn’t mix with Crown.”
She heaved a sigh, and I grinned as I took a can of ginger ale to her.
I leaned over the counter toward her. “Why so glum, chum?”
“You have to ask?”
I turned my head to the side. “Shit.”
Shoving away from the counter, I popped the top on the ginger ale, and poured some into her glass. “Sorry, Cassie-Cass. I didn’t even think before I asked that. I just figured you were tore up about having to
endure Canada Dry with your Crown Royal.”
Her eyes were bright, but she smiled. “It’s okay, Gabe. In some ways, my damn sister was right.”
My entire torso reared back at that. “No. Not buyin’ that, Cassie.”
She chuckled, and pride swelled in my chest.
“Let me explain. She said, if it mattered so much to me, I would’ve rented a place where I could’ve kept Mom with me, but I didn’t. So, I can’t expect people to know my cat died, because none of my neighbors would know I even have a cat. Hell, I doubt Kaylee knew I had a cat.”
I set the ginger ale to the side, then folded my arms onto the counter, leaning my weight onto them. It did not escape my notice that Cassie’s eyes were riveted to my forearms.
“Honey. None of that shit matters. Whether people know you have a cat is irrelevant. Your heart is broken, that’s plain to see. Your sister is not right. Not even a little bit. Whether your cat died under your watch or your parents’ is neither here nor there. Going out of her way to inflict that kind of heartache is fuckin’ bullshit.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, stroking my bicep.
I ground my teeth together because I wanted to lean into that touch, but couldn’t. She couldn’t think I was taking advantage of her when I made my move, and even if she was semi-sober, she was vulnerable because of her cat. Women were masters at calling out manipulation. I had to bide my time. Again. Having done it before, I could damn sure do it this time.
She took a huge sip of her Crown and ginger, putting the glass down with a thunk.
“I think my sister’s marriage is fake,” she announced.
I straightened from the counter, shaking my head. “Well, shit, Daughtry. Ain’t no softballs with you, are there?”
“Softballs?” she squinted at me.
I grinned. “You’re only pitching hardballs, honey. Or curve balls, depending on your outlook.”
Her head tilted while I poured more whisky into my glass.
“What’re you talking about, Gabey-Gabe?”
“A fake marriage is heavy stuff, and you just laid it right out there like it was nothin’. That’s not a softball approach to our conversation. But that’s okay. Why do you think her marriage is fake?”
She grinned at me with a sly look in her eye. “She doesn’t want me spending the night at my parents’ house this weekend. That shouldn’t matter, Gabe. I should be able to sneak in there at three a.m. and not have to worry that someone will be in my bed. Yet, I suspect she and Rafael don’t share a bed. I don’t understand that. She’s in her thirties –late thirties, but still– women hit their sexual peaks in their thirties, I hear. He shouldn’t be sleeping separate from her. Don’t you think?”
I swallowed my urge to laugh. “Uh, I really don’t know, Cassie. There some other reason you think their marriage is fake?”
She shrugged and drank the last of her drink. “Nothing except the fact Raphael is the nicest guy I’ve ever met and he’s married to the coldest, bitchiest sister ever. No joke, if there were a reality show or game show for bring us your bitchy sister who could put Cinderella’s step-sisters to shame, Serafina would be a shoe-in. Yeah, the wicked step-sisters could learn a thing or two from Sera.”
“Boy,” I muttered, not meaning to do it.
“Boy, what?”
“I used to hate not having my mom in my life, and resented her for abandoning me, but I never realized how damn lucky I was to have such a rock-solid bond with my brothers. Christ. Your mom doesn’t seem to treat you very well, and your sister outright treats you like shit. Cassandra, you deserve so much better.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Yes, but my Dad more than makes up for it, Gabe.”
15
Offended Your Inner-Caveman
Cassie
GABE HAD WALKED ME to my apartment after I finished my drink. When he left, I called my Dad to find out what he was doing with Mom-cat. He sounded as torn up as I was about her dying. Since I took her to Dr. Zaloudek for examinations, Dad had already dropped her off at the shelter to be cremated. To help Dad out, I would pick up her remains in a couple of days.
Now it was Sunday, and when classes weren’t in session, I tried to go to church on Sunday mornings. That morning, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Even though it was just after seven, I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.
In the kitchen, I peered inside the pantry to figure out what was for breakfast. With my twisted mind, thinking about breakfast made me think about dinner, and I realized I had forgotten to take a slab of ribs out of the freezer to thaw. I put the ribs on the counter, and as I opened the fridge, the doorbell rang. I closed the fridge and padded to the front door.
At the peephole, I couldn’t hold back my sigh seeing Gabe standing there.
“What are you doing here, Gabe?” I asked when I opened the door.
“Good morning to you, too, sunshine.”
“Good morning, Gabe. This is unexpected.”
He moved inside the foyer and gave me a long look. I figured it was because of my surly morning attitude, but after I closed the door I noticed his eyes were set on my legs. Then it dawned on me, I was wearing my satin spaghetti-strap pajama top with matching shorts, and my shorts put the ‘shh’ in ‘short’. Since Gabe avoided the pool, this was probably the skimpiest outfit he’d ever seen me wear.
“Um, I’ll go put on my robe.”
He cleared his throat. “No, don’t do that. I didn’t realize you were sleeping.”
I moved to the kitchen so we would have the breakfast bar between us. “Oh, I was awake. Just didn’t feel like doing much right now. So, what brings you by? Did you work last night? I mean, have you even slept at all?”
The half-smile on his face made him look impish. I couldn’t believe I found that to be sexy. Was there any look on Gabe I would find unattractive?
“You’re right. I worked last night, and I haven’t slept yet. Had something I wanted to talk to you about, and thought I’d drop by here in person. I... uh, should’ve just called you instead. You free later? I’ll call you when I wake up.”
“I should be. We’re between terms, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be around.”
He pushed away from the breakfast bar, but stopped short. “You got a slab of ribs.”
I glanced at the counter and back to him. “Yeah. Why do you sound surprised?”
Craning his neck, he looked to the balcony. “Because I’m pretty sure you don’t have a grill, so how do you plan to cook those?”
I crossed my arms on my chest and jutted a foot out. “I’ll cook them just fine without a grill, Sullivan. Ribs don’t always have to be barbequed in order to be good.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Those are fightin’ words in my family, Cassandra.”
I threw my head back with laughter. Then I looked him in the eye. “Bring it, Gabe. I’ll prove you and your narrow-minded notions about ribs wrong.”
He leveled his eyes at me. “Fine. What time’s dinner?”
I arched a brow at him, and said, “Six.”
He moved to the foyer. “I’ll see you then Daughtry.”
Everything about his visit was unexpected, but at least I had something to look forward to.
TRUTH BE TOLD, I AGREED with Gabe’s assessment that I had uttered fighting words. Ribs, baby backs in particular, were better when grilled. However, I wasn’t about to tell him that I was using the combination of my Instant Pot and the oven to cook my ribs. To say Gabe was skeptical of the Instant Pot’s effectiveness was putting it mildly.
At quarter to six, the doorbell rang, and I checked the peephole, to see Gabe holding a grocery bag.
When I opened the door, I shook my head at him. “What’s in the bag, Sullivan? Scared I won’t be able to feed you?”
He grinned. “I’m sure you can feed me. I thought I’d bring a side dish to be polite. Don’t get too excited, it’s just pre-made cole slaw from the deli.”
I nodded as he moved past me. He was wearing a
red tank top, khaki cargo shorts, and flip-flops. Closing the door, I told myself to get it together.
When I turned around, he was putting the tub of slaw into the refrigerator.
With a sigh, I admitted, “I didn’t expect you to be early, Gabe. It’ll be another fifteen minutes or so, okay?”
He grinned again, but this time it was devilish. “That’s fine. You need me to help? Maybe fire up a grill or something?”
“No, smartass,” I said, moving to the Instant Pot. I gave it a twist, and found it had naturally released the pressure. When I pulled the lid free, a puff of steam rose and I heard Gabe groan.
The moment I pulled a section of meat from the pot, he asked, “What the hell did you do to that meat, woman?”
I stifled my laughter at his outraged tone. “Cool it, G-Rock. I get that I’ve offended your inner-caveman since I’m cooking meat without using an open flame, but believe me these will be fantastic.”
Earlier I had cut the slab of ribs into four sections. As I moved the sections to an oven pan, Gabe asked, “What are you talking about? Offending me.”
I laughed since he didn’t object to the ‘inner-caveman’ bit. “You and Brock nearly come to fisticuffs when having your fajita festivals.”
He chuckled. “They aren’t fajita festivals, but that’s damn sure a festival I could get behind.”
I slathered the ribs with barbeque sauce and popped them in the oven. When I turned to Gabe, he was staring into space. I took advantage of his inattention and openly examined at him. His beard looked to be recently groomed, and I knew I was officially a fan. My eyes traveled down to his shoulders and I wondered how I’d missed how ripped his shoulder muscles and biceps were. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen him playing basketball before, but I guess with so much of him in motion I never dwelled on specific body parts.
“What are you staring at, Daughtry?” he asked.
I caught his dancing blue eyes and shook my head. “Nothin’. You were the one staring off into space; I guess it became contagious.”
