Chapter 6
Cat
“Where’s my phone? I need a smaller bag.” I’m mumbling to myself and trying to find my phone in my ginormous purse that I love and hate. At the same time, I’m trying to open my front door. I finally get a hold of my phone and see that it’s Ava.
“Hello,” I say as I push open the front door.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I called you about ten times.”
“I turned my phone volume down so I could concentrate on finding a job, and then I had to run a few errands. It was lost in my bag and I didn’t hear it ring.”
“Find anything good?”
“Hmm, it’s okay. I put a few résumés and applications in. A few people are interested in interviewing me for a couple of positions over the next two weeks. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“That’s great.”
“So how are things going with you and the search for your new boutique?”
“Really good. I think I’ve found the perfect place. It’s in the right location, it’s newly renovated, and it was a clothing store before the owner decided to move into a larger building.”
“That was fast. I thought it would take you at least a couple of weeks or months to find a place that was right for you.”
“I know, me too, but I haven’t made up my mind yet. I still have a couple more places to look at before I make a final decision.”
“I’m glad things are working out for at least one of us.”
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong? Job hunt got you down?”
“Something like that.”
“I think I know exactly what has you feeling blue.”
“And what would that be?”
I know no one’s home. I drop my bag on the couch and flop down next to it. I’m waiting for her to say the name of the person who has been in my dreams the past two nights, doing the most amazing things to me with his tongue from head to toe.
“A certain cousin of mine with black hair and intense gray eyes.”
“Ava, I wasn’t even thinking about him.”
“You were. You’re a terrible liar. His eyes were on you most of the night instead of his fiancée, where they should have been.”
“Were they? I didn’t notice.”
“You were too busy nursing that wine glass all night.”
“I was not! I was enjoying the atmosphere.”
“That and evading the questions about the ‘show stopper’ pendant.”
I roll my eyes and groan. “Yes, and you were no help. You were starting trouble.”
“I was not. I was tapping into my inner Veronica Mars. I was stirring up things, a little bit. How else was I supposed to find out what’s going on between Nick and your sister? Plus I love sticking it to Kate.”
I shake my head and cradle the phone against my shoulder and search through my bag for a piece of gum. Of course I can’t find it. I have to clean this bag out tonight. “What does your inner Veronica Mars think she found out?”
“Did you notice that Nick and Kate hardly talked to each other all night, and they were not affectionate toward each other at all?”
“I did. But lots of couples don’t like to show PDA—”
“Please, Cat, do you really believe that?” she scoffs.
“The one time I saw your sister with her ex she was draped all over him like a cheap leopard cat suit from the eighties, and you’re telling me she doesn’t like to show PDA?
Something is not right, and we’re definitely going to crack this case wide open. You just leave it to me.”
She sounds so sincere I have to laugh. “I did notice the lack of conversation between them.”
“Just the lack of conversation! How about the lack of emotion? My God, I would hate to be in that bedroom, it’s probably colder than a Frigidaire.”
I burst out laughing, seeing it in my head. “You’re right; something wasn’t right. Jay and Vanessa were showing more affection toward each other, and they’re separated.”
“It’s not like my cousin to be so distant around family and friends like that.”
I don’t want to talk about this anymore; she’s like a dog with a bone, she’s just going to keep digging. I’m going to have to accept this…whatever it is…they have going on. If only I can get Ava to see it that way, too.
“As much as I would like to sit here and analyze every little thing that happened the other night, I can’t.”
“And why not? You have something better to do?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m starving. I need food, and I need it now.”
“Nice try changing the subject on me. I’m going to have mercy on you and let you go.”
“How kind of you.” In my best French accent I say, “Merci.”
“De rien mon amie,” she replies in perfect French.
“It’s amazing to me how you can lose your southern accent at the drop of a hat and speak fluent French. I love the language, but I totally sucked at it in school.”
She promptly loses both French and southern accents. “I have to mix things up. You know what they say about variety, and men do like variety. Speaking of, Nick is fluent in French. Maybe you can ask him to give you some lessons in the language of love.”
This girl. “Goodbye, Ava.”
“Wait! My schedule is busy this week, but let’s do lunch. Call me.”
“On one condition.”
“What?”
“You stop with all the Nick and Kate stuff. No talk of Nick.” She lets out a breath of air almost like a deflated balloon.
“Fine, I won’t mention his name. Call me.”
“I will, bye.”
“Later.”
I put my phone in my bag and head upstairs to change before I find something to eat.
After my shower, I change into my gray yoga pants and a pink top and go down to the kitchen.
When I get there, I see Sophie in the kitchen cooking something that smells really good.
I stand in the door and watch as she stops dicing up a tomato, walks over to the pots, lifts the lids off and smells what’s inside.
Stirring with her wooden spoon, she brings it to her mouth for a taste and nods her head; she likes what she’s tasted.
When I was small, I spent hours watching her cook.
She would let me help her, and I felt so important.
She would call me her little chef’s assistant.
She would talk to me about my day, and we would sing songs.
Sometimes she would let me comb her long brown hair, and I would tell her I wanted to have hair just like hers when I grew up.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells wonderful, and I’m starving, please tell me it’s almost finished.” I walk into the kitchen and kiss her on the cheek before I hop onto a stool around the island.
“I have to get used to you walking into a room again. It’ll be ready in five minutes. Do you want me to get you something to drink?”
“No, I can get it myself. What’re you cooking? It really smells good.” She stops cutting up the vegetables for the salad and looks up at me.
“Honey, you look nice but tired, did you have a rough day?”
“Kind of. I was job hunting and ran a few errands, and I didn’t have time for lunch.”
“You must always make time to eat. You’re not going to do yourself any good if you’re passing out all over the place because you’re starving yourself.”
“I wasn’t starving myself. I was so busy I forgot, and by the time I remembered, I figured I might as well wait till I get home.” She looks at me and starts talking with one hand.
“Well, try not to do it again. I don’t want you looking like a skeleton. That’s not attractive for anyone. Take my advice, men like a woman with a little something on them, and I think I might have a man for you.”
Not Sophie too! “Sophie, I do not need a man right now. What I need is food.”
“Everyone needs a man, whether you want one or not. What’s life without a little romance?”
“Simple and uncomplicated. Now, what’s in the pot?” With an easy smile she opens the pot with a flourish.
“My grandma’s world famous shrimp French creole gumbo with long grain rice, my three cheese macaroni and cheese, and glazed honey barbecue chicken breast.”
Oh my God. As she’s talking I can feel my stomach churning and my mouth watering. I’m so hungry. “You’re killing me. Please tell me it’s done. I don’t even care if it’s half-done. I’m going to eat like right this minute, I’ll help myself—you don’t even have to take it out for me!”
“You didn’t even let me finish telling you what we’re having for dessert.”
“What is it?” I say eagerly. I think I have an idea what dessert it is.
“If it’s what I think it is, you’re going to have to roll me out of this kitchen with a forklift when I’m done eating.
” With another grand flourish she waltzes over to the fridge opens the door and pulls out my all-time favorite dessert.
“Yes, it is, my strawberry cheesecake, made just for you.”
“I love you.”
“I know you do. You sit down, and I’ll make you a plate. I won’t have you serving yourself for the first dinner I make for you since you’ve come home.”
“Thanks, Sophie.”
“It’s my job to take care of you.”
“No, it’s not. When I was little, it was. You’re not my servant. I don’t want you to wait on me hand and foot.” She walks over to me, places both her hands on mine, and looks into my face.
“Nonsense. I will take care of you, not because I have to, but because I want to. I’ve watched you grow from a little girl to the young woman you are now. You’re a good girl, and I would like to think I had a hand in that. I will always take care of you.”
I put my arms around her and squeeze her tight, and she does the same. “Thank you. You’re going to have me crying in here like a big baby.” I fan my eyes with my hands so I don’t cry. I hear the kitchen door open, when I turn around I see Kate walking in. She looks at Sophie then at me.
“What’s going on? Why do you look like you’ve been crying?”
“I wasn’t.” I shake my head and smile at Sophie then Kate.
“Your sister and I were just catching up on old times, having a little heart to heart. Making sure she knows how much we all care about her and we’re happy she’s home.”
Kate turns and walks over to the fridge, frowning, and pulls out a can of ginger ale. “Yes, we are.” She looks down at the can and makes a weird face, almost like she’s offended. She’s not happy about something. I wonder what it is.