Coop
It’s seven o’clock. I tossed and turned all night, waiting for Nese to return from wherever she went, doing whatever she did, with whoever she wanted. I punch my pillow. I know exactly what she did. I only wish it were me she was doing it with.
Stop it. I can’t let myself get swept up in that sort of whirlwind again. No matter what Nese said about Lillian or sex, I’m just fine living as I have been. I have my UC brothers and my family. I’m not cut out for anything more.
After a fast shower, I check my closet for the best possible outfit to drive her to the airport. Out of my life. The next time I see her, it’ll be as UC’s stylist. Nothing more.
I flip through hangers, filled with new clothes she selected for me.
I can hear her talking about each piece and end up selecting the dark wash jeans.
My fingers linger on the purple shirt I wore for the Tumi photoshoot but decide against it.
Instead, I choose the green one that she said brought out the green in my hazel eyes.
Matching my shirt to my eyes? What the fuck am I doing?
I put on my new watch, stuff my old wallet into my pocket, and walk into the kitchen, prepared to make her breakfast for the road. Considering…
“Good morning!” Nese greets me at the stovetop, stirring something in a pot. “I’m making pancakes.”
My throat tightens. I really want to know when she got home. Instead, I ask, “How on earth did you have time for this?”
“It takes no time to whip up pancakes, Grandpa.” She pours some onto the griddle. “First batch will be right up!”
She’s super cheerful this morning. Probably because she got some last night. Something I wasn’t willing to give her.
She hums, adorably off-key, as she bakes.
Turning, I make a beeline for the coffee maker. “I’ll handle the coffee.”
She chirps, “Extra sweet, like me!”
Don’t I know it.
Pretty soon, we’re sitting at the dinette with dirty plates. “Your pancakes rival the best I’ve ever had.”
“Thanks! I learned how to make them in some of the top diners in Georgia. Remember, I worked in several before UC swept me away.”
“Kudos to the chefs, then.” I pick up my mug. What’s the right thing to say to someone who gave up their vacation to help you out? “I want to thank you for everything you did for me. I think my new clothes do the trick.”
“Do the trick? Silly, they make you appear as if you stepped off a catwalk, in the best way possible.”
I raise, then lower, my mug. “Thanks again.” Lame.
The alarm goes off. The one I set to remind me we have to leave for the airport, never imagining a breakfast like this. “Time to go. Let me grab your luggage and I’ll join you at the Rover. It’s in the garage.” I stand. “Because of your foot.”
“How thoughtful.” She gets up and starts to clear the dishes.
“Let them be. I’ll take care of them when I return.” Lord knows I won’t have anything else to fill the time.
Retrieving her luggage from the guest room, I meet her at the trunk. When everything’s settled, I assist her into the SUV so as to avoid any further mishaps. Don’t want the rest of her vacation to be marred by aggravating her ankle.
When I open the driver’s side door, there’s a small package on my seat.
I pick it up. “What’s this?”
“Open it and find out.”
I get into the vehicle and look at the brown cardboard envelope. It has a brand label on it, but I don’t recognize the name.
“Go ahead,” she prods.
Smiling at her, I rip the end off and something in plastic falls out. I glance at her and tear it open. “It’s a wallet.”
“I saw it online when I ordered the belts and thought you might like it.”
She offers me a wan smile. Not her usual jubilant one. Still, this is a beautiful gesture. Of course, I don’t have anything to reciprocate. “I really appreciate it, Nese.”
I put the car into gear and we drive to the airport.
The radio provides all the soundtrack we need, so I reach over and raise the volume.
Slanting her a sideways glance, I can’t tell what she’s thinking behind her sunglasses—probably how lucky she is to return to her home in Georgia.
Be that as it may, I find myself unable to stop devising ways to entice her to stay.
We could continue clothes shopping. Eat out at a variety of restaurants. Have sex on the pool deck.
Stop it Coop. Be realistic.
According to her, I’m old and boring. She can make me energized and fun.
According to her, I’m silly in a bad way. She can turn it upside down.
According to her, I’m being ridiculous for believing my failed marriage was it for me. She can rip out the carpet from under my feet. The one on which Lillian dances.
No.
It’s much better this way. We’ll part as friends.
Still be able to work together, as I won’t be the one demanding she leave UC.
For one, Nese’s damn good at her job. For another, despite her upbringing, her hard work landed her on the team and I refuse to interfere with her life like the cult leader—and her mother! —did.
She’s much better without me. For all I know, she might have a guy, or two, waiting for her in Georgia. She’s spontaneous and fun, things I’ve never been accused of.
She has to return to Georgia. Fly and be free, Río’s motto. Amend, old motto. Nese never needs to know how deeply she’s affected me. Besides, I’m sure it’s only a little blip. The retreat will screw my head back on right.
Pulling up outside the terminal, it dawns on me that she shouldn’t drag her luggage with her bum foot. “Let me park and I’ll bring your bags to the check-in.” I start to turn the SUV into the roadway.
“No, it’s fine. I’m certain one of the valets can help me.” She performs an impressive circle with her sneaker-clad left ankle. “Besides, I’m basically all better.”
Reluctantly, I return to the curb and put the Rover into park. “At least, let me get your luggage.”
“You won’t hear an argument from me!”
I exit the vehicle and open the trunk. After I bend down to put her suitcases on the pavement, I stand to see her surrounded by not one, but two “helpful” valets. Guess I didn’t have to worry about her foot. Both of them approach and take her luggage from me.
Bringing myself next to her, I place my hands on her shoulders. Ones that have carried her from a cult and her mother to starting a new life in Georgia. And now with UC.
Ignoring my inner voice begging her to stay, I soak in her dark blue eyes and say, “I look forward to seeing you on tour in Australia.”
She smiles. “See you Down Under!”
With that, she pivots and follows her luggage—with only a slight limp—into the terminal.
Immobile, I stand until the door closes behind her, another group follows in her footsteps, and cars honk at me. With a deep sigh, I return to my vehicle and drive away. From the one woman who painted my world in trendy clothes and bright colors.
When I get home, I leave the car outside and walk into my Zen Garden, my new wallet in my hand. I sit on the bench and stare at the lines in the sand, seeking solace. All I feel is a dull ache in my chest.
Standing, I abandon any hope of meditating and wander into my now-desolate kitchen where the dirty dishes from our breakfast wait.
I leave her gift on the counter and turn on the water.
For some reason, though, I want to make this final clean up last as long as possible.
Somehow keep her with me here. In my kitchen. Where she belongs.
Get a grip, Coop!
I toss my head from side to side and finish the dirty dishes. Her cotton candy scent is everywhere in here, so I grab my wallet and escape downstairs. Where she was too, as witnessed by her perfume in the air.
Seeking solace, I go into my music room and play some songs, which usually calms me. Not this time.
Thoroughly frustrated, I return my guitar to its stand and pick up my phone. While I love Río like a brother, I don’t need to talk with someone who has a plus-one. No. I pull up 007’s contact and press the green button.
“Hey, Coop, what are you doing?”
Moping. “Nothing much. Played a couple of UC songs. What are you up to?”
He chuckles. “You know me. I drove by a hot tub store and thought how amazing it would be to have one on my deck. So, here I am.”
“Didn’t you just buy a boat?”
“That was last week, Coop. Now I want to get this installed before the tour resumes. That way, when you guys come out to hang on the boat, we can drink champagne afterwards in my hot tub. Hold on.” He talks with someone in the store about the sizes and dimensions of a particular model.
“I’d love to chat, but I really need to focus on buying the best one in here. Catch you later.”
I’m cut off before I’m even able to wish him good luck with this purchase. Well, that was a bust. No way can I keep up with all his new toys. Perhaps I’ll have a better time with Tris? I punch his contact.
After pleasantries, I ask, “How’s Chicago treating you?”
“Chicagoland is fantastic, Coop. I’m going to have to get you to come out here. My place overlooks Lake Michigan.”
“I have a view of the Pacific Ocean,” I counter.
“Not the same. The Great Lake has its own charm, distinct from your cold ocean. Besides, we have great steakhouses out here. Plus, you haven’t lived until you’ve had some of our deep-dish pizza.”
I chuckle. “I do love me some deep-dish. Are you going to miss it when we’re in Australia?” I leave the music room and make my way to the pool, spurred on by all this talk of bodies of water.
“I always miss it. I don’t miss doing double time at the gym to atone for it, though.
“I hear you.”
As our newest member, I’m still getting to know Tris. He and 007 are tight, which is unusual considering Darren was his best friend since elementary school. Maybe it’s the keyboard connection?
“Has the wardrobe mess been sorted?”
My jaw tightens. His innocent question lands hard—Nese was the one who expertly handled the whole mess. “I’ve basically bought everything I need, including luggage and a new watch.”
“Oh, do tell. What brands did you get?”