Chapter 89
Nick didn’t
see Claire for the rest of the week.
He’d told her to call if she needed anything, but she didn’t call, so he
didn’t drop by again. He figured if she
wanted to see him, she would let him know.
Clearly, she didn’t.
His weekend
at home was altogether depressing then, for the realization had struck him that
Claire was the only true friend he had left in Florida… and things would never
be the same between her and him.
It was
raining in Tampa on Sunday morning, as he boarded the plane to take him back to
LA. So appropriate, he thought as
he stared out the tiny plane window, watching the raindrops bead on the other
side of the thick glass. The weather was
as shitty as his mood.
As the
plane turned onto the runway in preparation for take-off, Nick curled his
fingers around the end of his armrest, gripping it tightly, and closed his
eyes. Why do I put myself through
this? he wondered. I should have
just stayed in LA. Then I wouldn’t be
sitting on this deathtrap right now.
Why had he even come back to Tampa?
Claire didn’t need him. She had
her family and her girlfriends… and Jamie.
Goddamned Jamie.
Nick’s foul
mood lasted all the way back to the west coast.
Only when he got off the plane at LAX did a bit of good news brighten
it, as he turned on his cell phone to find a voicemail waiting for him. Punching a few buttons, he soon heard his
realtor’s chipper voice on the recording.
“Hello,
Nick; it’s Therese Lester. Good
news! I think I’ve found a house for
you…”
***
A week
passed, a very boring week in Claire’s life.
She spent most of the week at home, with her bum arm and bad eye, and
didn’t hear from either Nick or Jamie.
The most interesting thing that happened all week was that a giddy
Laureen called to announce that she’d finally broken up with Tim. That called for a celebration, and the two of
them got together for a spontaneous “girls’ night out” that Wednesday, since
Laureen was off on Thursday. They pigged
out on the most fattening pancake combos they could order at the IHOP and then
headed back to Laureen’s apartment for drinks and movies.
For Claire,
it was great to hang out with Laureen and catch up with what had been going on
at work in her absence. She laughed at
all of the interesting patient stories Laureen had collected over the last
couple of weeks, and though she wasn’t exactly looking forward to the bad
breath and bitten fingers, she couldn’t wait to get back to work. With her new hormone replacement therapy
going well, her arm on the mend, and one eye practically good as new, she was feeling
much better and more in control of her life than she had before the car
accident that had put her out of commission.
Once she was back at work, she hoped things would truly feel like normal
for the first time in months.
The next
day, a knock came on her door just as she was opening up a boxed dinner to
throw together for her supper. Wondering
who could be there, Claire set the box down on the counter and went to get the
door. She pulled it open to find Jamie standing
there, a small Wal-Mart bouquet of flowers in his hand and a sheepish smile on
his face.
Claire
tried to hide her surprise at seeing him.
“What, did you lose my phone number or something? Or did you just forget it’s a nice gesture to
call before you just show up at someone’s door?” she asked indignantly.
“Claire…”
said Jamie, his voice patronizing. “Come
on. Give me a break. I came over to apologize.”
“For…?”
Claire prompted. She refused to let him
get off that easy.
“For last
week? For insulting Nick? And pushing him? I’m sorry.”
Claire
raised her eyebrows, impressed that he’d included all of these things without
being prompted further. And he didn’t
even sound sarcastic. Unenthusiastic,
yes. But sarcastic? Surprisingly, no. “Good,” she said. “You should be. You acted like an asshole.”
Jamie
nodded, holding up his free hand in defense.
“I agree,” he replied easily.
“That’s why I came to apologize.
I… I was just surprised to find him here and disappointed that I wasn’t
gonna get you all to myself for lunch, and I took it out on him. I’m sorry.”
When Claire
gave him a skeptical look, he held out the flowers. “I wanna make it up to you, Clairie.”
“With a
cheap bouquet? Since when do I fall for
stuff like that?” Claire asked derisively, cocking her eyebrow higher. She was having fun giving him a hard time;
after the way he had treated Nick the other day, she was going to make him
work.
“Oh no, not
with this,” said Jamie, tossing the flowers aside. “Forget those. Those were just the beginning. I really just wanted to know if I could bring
you back to my place, for dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“Yeah, why
not? You know I can cook better than
you. I’m grilling steaks… baked
potatoes… salad… garlic bread… Whaddya
say?”
Claire’s
mouth was already watering, but she wasn’t about to cave that easily. “Steaks, huh?
New job must be treating you well then?”
Jamie
smiled. “You know it. Come on, I already bought two of them,
they’re thawing on the counter right now, and I’m not gonna eat both of
them. Are you gonna make me waste my
money?”
Claire put
her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes.
“Okay, fine,” she gave in with a tiny smile. “Wait here while I grab my purse.”
***
A short
while later, Claire was following Jamie into his apartment. “Make yourself at home,” he told her, as he
walked her through the kitchen and into the living room, motioning towards the
couch. “I’m just gonna throw the steaks
on the grill.”
Claire
nodded, settling down on the couch while Jamie walked back and forth between
the kitchen and his small balcony, where his grill was set up, getting
everything ready. Spotting the remote
control sitting on the small coffee table in front of her, she picked it up and
flipped on the TV. It was nice to be
able to enjoy watching TV again, now that her eye had healed. The improvement in her vision was dramatic;
she hadn’t realized how crappy it had become until she got the cataract
removed. She couldn’t wait to get the
other one fixed too, but her second surgery wasn’t scheduled for another three
weeks.
Glancing
from the evening news on TV to the sliding glass door that led out to Jamie’s
small private balcony, Claire watched with a tiny smile on her face as he
carefully flipped the steaks on his grill.
Her attention diverted, she all of a sudden felt something touch her
ankle. Startled, she jumped and
reflexively pulled her leg up onto the couch.
As she did so, her ears picked up the smallest of hisses, and she looked
down to see a tiny gray furball staring up at her through wide, blue-green
eyes.
“Oh,” she
heard Jamie say, as the door slid open and he walked in. “I see you met Bright.”
Claire
glanced from the kitten to Jamie and then back again. The little thing looked terrified, its fluffy
fur standing on end, its tail puffed out and fat. “Yeah… I think I scared the shit out of Bright.”
“Why did
you do that?”
Claire
shrugged. “She scared me first.”
Jamie shook
his head and clicked his tongue, an exasperated expression on his face. “Only you, Claire,” he sighed
patronizingly. “She’s a kitten!”
“She came
up and brushed against my leg! I didn’t
see her. You know how I hate to be
startled,” Claire replied. She was just
giving him a hard time. He also knew how
she didn’t like cats.
“Aww, she
didn’t mean to scare you. She’s just a
baby!” Jamie cooed and bent to pick up the frightened cat. Cradling her like an infant, he brought her
close to his face and planted a big smoochy kiss on the top of her head.
Claire
watched in disbelief. “Are you turning
into a crazy cat lady on me, James?” she teased him, totally amused by this
show of affection.
“Eh, I’d
need a few more of them to count as that, I think,” he replied seriously,
scratching Bright behind her fuzzy gray ears.
“I’m sure
your landlord would love that. I’m
surprised you’re even allowed to have pets.
We’re not in my complex.”
“Well, my
landlord’s a crazy cat lady herself,” said Jamie with a grin. “We’re allowed to have cats and anything
smaller… just no dogs.”
Claire
scoffed. “That’s discrimination. Dogs are way better.”
“No they’re
not. They smell… they drool… you can’t
litter box train them…”
“They’re
good companions though… friendly… loyal… obedient. Have you taught Bright to fetch yet,
Jamie? How about to shake?”
“She’s
friendly. She can shake,” Jamie insisted
and picked up one of the kitten’s front paws, waggling it around limply. “See?”
Claire made
a face. “Pathetic,” she shot back with a
wide, teasing grin. The ‘dogs versus
cats’ debate was an old one with them; they’d been having it since they’d become
friends in high school, back when Claire still had a dog, the dog she’d grown
up with, and Jamie’s family owned two mean old cats. It was just a big joke between them now.
“I’m gonna
check the steaks,” said Jamie. “Here,
hold her.” Before Claire could protest,
he plopped the kitten down in her lap and strode back outside. Claire aimed her middle finger at his back
before looking down at the gray fuzzball who was currently digging its tiny,
razor-sharp claws into her thighs.
“Ouch,” she
muttered and slipped her hand underneath the cat’s little body, gently prying
it off her lap and lifting it into a more comfortable position – the crook of
her broken arm, its body the perfect size to be cradled by her bent cast. Bright made herself comfy there, curling up
and nestling in… She was actually pretty
cute, thought Claire, even if she was full of dander and destined to turn into
a temperamental brat of a cat. Smiling a
little, she gingerly rubbed the top of the kitten’s head. Her dark gray fur was fluffy and incredibly
soft.
By the time
Jamie came back in, carrying two large steaks on a plate, Bright was sound
asleep in Claire’s arms. She cast a
sheepish look up at Jamie, who shot her a triumphant smile in return. “Aww, ain’t that cute,” he remarked. “I need to get a picture of this, as proof…
Dianna will have to see it to believe it.”
Claire just
shook her head, but Jamie was serious.
He had dropped the steaks off in the kitchen and gone to his bedroom to
get his camera before Claire got around to getting the cat off of her. “Smi-ile,” he sing-songed as he raised
the digital camera, a smug grin spreading across his face as he studied the
viewfinder on the back of it. Claire put
on a cheesy, sarcastic smile as the camera flashed, leaving bright spots
dancing before her eyes.
The flash
of light caused the kitten to open her eyes and look around,
discombobulated. She stretched out her
paws, clawing Claire’s shirtsleeve, and hopped down a moment later. “Lemme see,” Claire demanded, leaning forward
as she reached out for Jamie’s camera.
He handed it to her, and she played with the buttons until she got the
image of her holding the cat to come up on the tiny screen. “Cute,” she said dryly, grimacing as she gave
the camera back to him. “Can we eat now?”
“Ah ah ah,
wait just a minute,” Jamie replied, wagging his finger at her. “I’ll come get you when it’s all ready.” He hurried back into the kitchen, where she
heard him rummaging around, opening and closing cupboards, clinking dishware
and utensils together.
A minute
passed… several, in fact, before Jamie finally came back into the living
room. “Dinner is served,” he announced
grandly, making a sweeping gesture towards the kitchen. Laughing, Claire got up and followed him into
the other room. There she found the
kitchen table all set for two, both plates filled with steaming hot food that
made her mouth water. Juicy steak… baked
potatoes… crisp salad… and garlic bread that looked almost dripping with butter
and garlic… it all looked heavenly.
“Wow,
Jamie,” she said, sinking down into the chair he pulled out for her. “This looks great! I forgot you could cook!”
“Mom taught
me well,” he replied with a smirk and then motioned to her plate. “I hope you don’t mind that I cut your steak
for you… I just thought it might be tricky, with your arm…”
She smiled
down at the steak, perfectly cut into bite-sized cubes, then up at home. “No, that was really thoughtful. I’m impressed!”
Looking
pleased with himself, Jamie sat down across from her. “Dig in,” he urged her. “Let me know how it is.”
Claire
slopped a small puddle of steak sauce onto her plate and stabbed a piece of
meat with her fork, dragging it through the sauce. Lifting it to her lips, she put it in her
mouth and closed her eyes as she bit into it, savoring the taste. It was just as good as it looked and smelled,
juicy and grilled to perfection, still tender but not too rare. She opened her eyes and smiled. “Perfect,” she gave her review.
They chewed
more than talked for the next few minutes, enjoying the dinner. It was a good homecooked sort of meal, the
kind Claire only ate when she was at her parents’ house. It seemed futile to try to prepare this sort
of meal just for herself at night, and she would probably find a way to mess it
up anyway. Jamie, though… he had it
down. Mrs. Turner really had taught him
well.
“So,
Clairie,” Jamie said after awhile, raising his eyes to meet hers. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh? You’re propositioning me?” she asked, arching
an eyebrow playfully.
He
smirked. “Hear me out. What would you say to dinner with me again on
Friday? Dinner out. With a couple of other people.”
Claire
narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
“And who would these other people be?
Not Greg and Jerr, would they?”
“No, no,
not them,” Jamie replied, shaking his head quickly. “I’d never subject them to that again –
Greg’s afraid of you.” Claire laughed,
remembering with satisfaction the way she’d punched him in the face for calling
Nick a gimp. “No, these are people from
work.”
He still
sounded vague, and she knew he was up to something. “O-kay… so why do you want me there, if it’s
a work thing?”
With a
shit-eating grin, Jamie replied, “Well… so one of them is this chick... she’s a
secretary for the company, and she’s really, really hot.”
Claire
automatically rolled her eyes and immediately knew she was being roped into a
scheme to help him score with this woman.
Sure enough…
“So anyway,
one of the guys I work with, this guy named Stew... he knows her and apparently
has some pull with her, so he said he’d hook me up on a date with her… but only
if I set him up with somebody too.”
Claire’s
eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, stop right
there!” she interjected, holding up her hand.
“Would that ‘somebody’ be me?”
A guilty smile started to slide across his face, but before he could
even answer, she went on, “Jamie, I’m not ready to start dating again. It’s only been a few months since I… left
Nick.” She averted her eyes on this last
part, still ashamed of it.
“Hey, don’t
freak out, okay?” Jamie replied quickly.
“I’m not setting you up to start dating this guy seriously. All I’m asking for is one date… a group date,
with me and this hot secretary… her name’s Sarah.”
“Why can’t
you just ask her out yourself? Why do
you have to go through this other guy?” demanded Claire.
“I dunno, I
don’t know her that well… I don’t wanna freak her out. Stew knows her, she thinks he’s harmless; he
said he’d get her to agree to a group thing so she and I could get to know each
other, and he did. Friday night. The only thing is, now I need to hook him up
with a date for the night too, and… you’re the only single woman I know down
here.” He shot her a cheeky grin.
“So
basically, you’re just using me to get a woman?” she asked, eyebrows
cocked. “You want me to go on a blind
double date with you and some random guy I probably have nothing in common
with, just so-“
“He’s
really nice,” interrupted Jamie. “I
promise, I wouldn’t set you up with a creep. Please, Claire? It’s just one night… just a few hours. Dinner… maybe drinks? That’s all, I promise. Nothing romantic; it’ll just be a casual
thing, a fun thing. And after that, you
never have to see him again if you don’t want to.”
Claire gave
him a long-suffering look, and he retaliated with puppy eyes, sticking his
bottom lip out in a perfect pout. He’d
perfected this look; he’d been using it since high school to get what he
wanted. And usually he got it. She knew she was falling into his trap, but
he was just so damn cute when he did that!
She sighed, hating him for it.
“Fine,” she snapped. “One night,
one ‘date,’ if you’re even going to call it that. But that’s it. And you’re gonna owe me…”
“Anything;
you got it,” Jamie replied with a wide grin.
“Thanks, Clairie. You’re the
best, you know that?”
She shot
him a sarcastic smile and joked, “Yes I am, and don’t you forget it.”
***