Love You to Death (6 page)

I removed the tissue paper and pulled out a
box wrapped in pretty pink foil paper with a darker pink sparkling
bow. I looked at Cass, who was, by now, grinning like the village
idiot. I ripped off the paper and gasped. I looked at Cass, my
mouth hanging open. He’d bought me a new pair of sneakers.

They were another pair of Sketchers, my
favorite. Before I could catch myself, I flung my arms around his
neck. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around my waist, hugging
me back. He shook with laughter. Embarrassed, I let go to inspect
the shoes.

“If I’d known you’d react this way, I’d have
bought you a pair every time I saw you,” he said, still
laughing.

I dropped to sit on the cement steps, pulling
my old sneakers off.

“Whoa, there is something else in there too,”
he said, digging in the bag. I didn’t care what else was in there,
until I watched him pull out a pack of socks. The same kind I’d
stolen. He handed them to me like they were Cinderella’s glass
slipper.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the socks and
tearing open the bag. I could feel his eyes on me. Shifting
uncomfortably, I continued dressing my feet.

“You’re blushing,” he said quietly, as if he
couldn’t believe it. “You are so beautiful, Arden.”

With that one comment I realized that the
precious gift of warm feet was not mine to keep. I stripped off the
socks and shoved them into the shoes, placing them back in the
box.

“I can’t accept them,” I said. I wanted them
so much it hurt. But I knew if I took them, if I accepted the gift,
that one day he would expect something in return. And I already
owed him.

“What? Why not?” He looked angry then hurt.
He refused to take the bag I was holding out to him. I was standing
there in my bare feet, crying on the inside, pining for a lousy
pair of shoes.

“Because they’re too much... I hardly know
you. It wouldn’t be right,” I explained, gathering up my old socks
and shoes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Arden,” he scoffed.
“We’re friends. I bought these for you. You’re going to need them.”
He pushed the bag at me.

“And what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything.” He gritted his
teeth. I could tell he was trying not to yell.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I mimicked him.
“Everybody expects something in return for something.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his
head. I waited for him to tell me how silly I was being. But he
didn’t say anything. He just stood there with his full lips pursed
in agitation, staring at me.

There was nothing like a good dose of reality
to ruin a perfectly happy moment.

“That’s what I thought,” I muttered, turning
to leave. His hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Arden, I’m not asking for anything you
aren’t willing to give.” He paused when I arched my brows high in
disbelief. “What I mean is I don’t want anything from you that you
aren’t ready to share. I want to be your friend. I don’t know about
you, but I could always use another friend.”

That tug-of-war inside me started up again. I
wanted to trust him. I had so little in this life worth believing
in that I was ready to latch onto anything remotely convincing.
Cass’s look of genuine goodwill did me in. Ignoring the voice
screaming from the background of my conscience, I nodded at
him.

“Want some cake?” I asked climbing the
steps.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said,
flashing me his pearly whites.

Chapter
Six

The holidays were fast approaching.
Thanksgiving was right around the corner. This would be my first
year of turkey and stuffing without my mom. I tried not to think on
it too much, but the more I fought the memories, the more I thought
about what would be missing this year.

Miss Vinnie was being extra attentive to me.
I suspect she knew what was rolling around in my head.

“Why don’t you come to my house for
Thanksgiving?” she asked me one day while we were in the shelter’s
large kitchen. She was teaching me how to make homemade chicken
noodle soup. Volunteers weren’t supposed to mix with the homeless
people, but Miss Vinnie seemed to do whatever she wanted.

“I can’t leave Stewie alone,” I said. She
smiled that knowing smile only mothers can invoke.

“Honey, don’t you think I know that? My
invitation is for him too.” She handed me a bag of egg noodles and
nodded for me to add them to the pot.

“I don’t know...I don’t wanna get you in
trouble or anything.” I stirred the noodles into the soup, sending
her a doubtful look.

“You let me worry about me. I’ll set two
extra places. You think about it, okay?” She patted my shoulder,
and said, “Needs more salt.”

I watched her waddle away, thinking how lucky
I was to have her. My mom’s sweet voice cut in,
“Luck? No such
thing. God hasn’t forgotten you. He sent her to you.”

It never ceased to amaze me how clear I
remember her voice. It was times like this that I could close my
eyes and actually see her, in a three dimensional sense. An ache
began to build in my chest. It climbed into my throat and ate
around the tissue like acid. I held my breath and counted to ten,
waiting for the tears to fade.

“Cherry!” Stewie’s excited shout interrupted
my weak moment. “Cherry! Come see what Cass got me!”

Cass had been coming around a lot since my
birthday. He had won over Stewie, which was not an easy task, given
their history. At first, Stewie wouldn’t go anywhere near him. But
Cass didn’t give up. He brought little presents that Stewie
couldn’t pass up. Like packs of gum, bags of candy, and boxes of
snappers, those little bags of fireworks that you threw on the
ground and they popped. He loved those. But the coup de grâce was a
Batman toy gun that shot Styrofoam bullets. Stewie was hooked after
that. Cass was his new BFF.

I convinced myself that Cass had a change of
heart. That the episode I’d witnessed when I met him had never
happened. We never mentioned it so it never existed. But in the
back of my mind, a little voice struggled to remind me.

Stewie came running into the kitchen holding
a piece of black fabric. He was bouncing from foot to foot.

“Look, Cherry! A real cape!” He held it up
for me to inspect.

“Wow. Look at that.” I smiled.

“I’m gonna wear it,” he said, unfolding the
fabric and flinging it over his shoulders.

“You look great, buddy.”

“Thanks. Cass got you a present too.” He gave
me a wide, crooked-toothed grin before flying out the door. I
stared after him shaking my head. Cass appeared in his place,
looking as beautiful as he always did. Today he was casual in a
pair of jeans and a blue button down shirt.

“You’re cooking?” He raised a skeptical
eyebrow.

“Don’t look so surprised. I used to do it all
the time.” With my mom.

“Don’t look so sad. I’m sure you haven’t lost
your touch.” He came toward me, his smile lighting the way.

“You can be my guinea pig.” I laughed
maniacally.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Chicken.”

“Exactly.” He laughed.

I lowered the flame and covered the pot. We
walked into the hall, each taking a seat at the end of one of the
tables. It was a pattern that had developed through his frequent
visits. He would bring Stewie a gift, and then we would settle into
place at one of the tables to talk.

I’d never really dated anyone, so I wasn’t
sure if that was what this was. Cass was much older than me. He’d
confessed that he was thirty on his last birthday. When I
considered that, I doubted he was interested in me in a romantic
way. I imagined that he—like Miss Vinnie—was drawn to us in a
supportive, familial way. I ignored the telltale signs he gave me
from time to time. Like now, he was gazing into my eyes with a
liquid heat that couldn’t be confused with anything other than
lust.

“So what’s up, PoPo?” I eased back into my
chair. “Got a perp you’re on the lookout for?”

The fire in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“You don’t have to do that you know,” he said
softly, pinning me with his baby blues. I shifted uncomfortably in
my seat.

“Do what?”

“Hide behind that rapier wit of yours.”

His uncanny mind reading skills were a little
unnerving, but I was getting used to it.

“Stewie said you had something for me?” I
smoothly segued into a new topic. He hated when I did this.

A frown puckered the skin between his eyes.
He bent down, bringing a white box from under the seat, tossing it
on the table.

“It’s just a small token. Nothing really,” he
said. I stared at it for a minute. This irritated him.

“For God’s sake, it isn’t a snake,” he
snapped.

Hesitantly, I reached for the package. It
wasn’t wrapped. The box itself was sturdy, the type you got when
you bought envelopes in bulk. I lifted the lid and carefully set it
aside. Sitting between white tissue paper were a pair of emerald
green mittens with a matching hat and scarf.

Inside I was doing cartwheels and handstands.
I’d been wearing socks on my hands at night. An actual pair of
mittens was going to be a real treat, if I accepted them. And I
really, really wanted to. I knew he knew this. He knew I knew he
knew this too. We went over it every time he brought me
something.

I met his gaze straight on. His poker face
revealed nothing. You’d think we were negotiating world peace. He
was patiently waiting for me to go through the whole spiel again.
It was an old argument. I battled it out in my head for a few
minutes.

“Thank you,” I finally said. It wasn’t easy.
The surprise on his face lasted long enough for me to enjoy the
fact that I’d shocked him.

“Well,” he drawled.

“Don’t make a big deal or I’ll give them
back.” It was an empty threat since I was already putting them
on.

“So...” he said, drumming his fingers on the
table. “Got any plans this Friday?”

Raising my newly mittened hands, I pretended
to inspect the fabric’s stretch and said, “Well, the limo will be
here at three to drive me to BWI. From there, the jet is scheduled
to land at LAX by nine, so I can grab a late dinner at Koi, with
Ben and Jen, and then maybe hit the Viper Room or Area.” I gave a
bored little sigh and looked at him nonchalantly. “You?”

“Always with the smart mouth.” He chuckled,
giving a slight shake of his head. “I was thinking of going to see
that new action movie, maybe grabbing dinner at Don Pablo’s.”

Comprehension dawned slow and lethargic. He
was asking me on a date. To a movie and dinner. An actual date. I
lowered my face, concentrating on the mittens. This was the thin
line I shouldn’t cross. A line barricaded with flashing lights and
warning signs. Do not enter! Danger! High voltage!

If I accepted his invitation it would be
giving up all pretense of not understanding what his intentions
were. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. On the other hand, I was
hard-pressed to remember the last time I went to a movie. And a
dinner in a restaurant, well that was self-explanatory.

I was still digging fast food out from
dumpsters and relying on the soup and half stale sandwiches they
served here at the shelter. I took my time removing the mittens and
carefully put them back into the box.

What was it that I was so afraid of?
Cass had spent the month showing me his kinder, gentler side. He’d
done a complete 180 with Stewie. People can change. So I’d heard.
Maybe it was time for me to let go, just a little, and trust
someone again.

I licked my lips nervously. It wasn’t like he
was asking me to have sex. It was dinner and a movie. A date. Girls
my age were doing it all over the world. I drew a deliberate breath
and raised my head. He was watching me with his cop face, trying to
figure out what I was going to say.

I exhaled in rush. Cass, keeping his eyes on
me, started rolling up one of his sleeves then the other. This
reminded me that I didn’t have any nice clothes. I might be able to
pinch something at the Harborplace Mall. My jeans were decent. I’d
need a shirt...

“Are you almost finished?” he asked
testily.

“What? Is there a time limit on the
question?” I said offhandedly.

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he pushed a
deep breath through his nose and sat back, crossing his arms over
his chest. I watched him staring at me, waiting. His expression
closed, his eyes shuttered. I realized then that he expected me to
say no.

For some reason I couldn’t explain, this
assumption made me feel like I was more in control than I thought.
I liked that.

“If I say yes,” I said, hesitating to search
for the right words. “What will you expect in return?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” The look
on his face didn’t change, but his tone was delicate, like he was
talking to a sick child or a skittish puppy. “Arden...”

“Just answer the question,” I snapped,
embarrassed.

“I expect you to be nice. No smart mouth
comments, just a night of being with a
friend,
and having a
fun night.” He lifted one side of his mouth in a lazy smile.

“Nothing else?” I asked. He knew to what I
was referring. Our eyes locked in a shared understanding. His only
answer was the slight shake of his head.

“Fine. Pick me up at 5:00.” We’d eat first,
that way if anything happened I’d at least have my dinner. To me,
it was all about the food.

* * * *

I had to pace myself. The food was really
hot, but it tasted so good. I was practically shoveling it in. The
melted cheese on my burrito burned my tongue. I didn’t care.

Cass had picked me up on time and drove
directly to The Avenue Mall where Don Pablo’s was located. We were
quickly seated in a booth with a window. I watched people stroll
by, thinking to myself how oblivious they all seemed to the luxury
of their lives.