“Oh, yes, yes. The little ones asked after you.”
Every other holiday, some aunts and uncles and cousins joined us. It didn’t make for a very big family gathering, but I suppose I had more than a lot of people do.
“I wish I could have been there. I can’t wait for Christmas.”
I wasn’t sure yet exactly how I was going to afford to go home for Christmas, but I would. If I had to take out more loans on top of my school ones, I would. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t be paying those back for a century anyway.
Someone knocked at the door, and I said, “Hey, Grams, someone is at the door. Can I call you back later? I want to hear all about how yesterday went with the family.”
“Of course, honey. Tell Bliss I said hi.”
I swallowed and said, “Uh-huh. Love you. Bye.”
A second round of knocks came as she said good-bye and hung up the phone.
Through the door, a voice called, “Hermano! You in there?”
“Just a sec, Milo!”
I rolled off my bed and pulled a T-shirt over my head. I padded barefoot toward the door of my studio apartment, and undid the dead bolt.
I yawned and pulled the door wide.
I was in pajama pants, and Milo looked like he’d raided Urban Outfitters. He said, “Whoa. Either you had a really late night or are currently having a really early one.”
“Sadly, neither.”
Before I could invite him in, he’d already passed by me and plopped down on the futon in my living room.
I laughed and closed my door.
“This isn’t still about that Bliss girl, is it?”
It felt good to be able to say, “No, it’s not about Bliss.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already gotten your heart broken by some other chica. I only left you alone for a day.”
“No, no broken heart. Just an unavailable girl.”
Milo stretched his legs out in front of him and nodded. “Ah, you know the cure for that don’t you?”
“What?”
“An available girl.” Laughing, I made my way to the fridge and held up a beer in offering. Milo nodded, and I grabbed one for each of us. He said, “I’m serious. I happen to have it on good authority that you picked up a phone number the other night. Forget the unavailable girl . . . both of them . . . and call the blonde from the other night.”
That wasn’t a bad idea.
Dating was the solution to my Bliss (and now Max) problem.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I told him.
I picked up my phone to find her number, and he said, “Whoa! Whoa! Don’t do it now, hermano. You’ve got to give it a few days. You know the rules.”
I rolled my eyes. Right . . . Milo had rules for just about everything—drinking and dating being the two most prominent.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
He made a face and said, “Eh, better make it the day after. That girl was all over you at the bar. We don’t want to encourage too much clinginess. The day after tomorrow will be much better.”
So Sunday afternoon, with Milo obnoxiously watching from my sofa, I called Cammie. I pulled out my cell, found her in my address book, and hit send quickly, before I could change my mind.
She answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Cammie?” I asked.
“Yes?”
I said, “This is Cade.” Then I couldn’t remember if I’d actually told her my name at the bar, so I added, “We met at Trestle a few nights ago.”
“Oh.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “Hi, Cade.”
“Hi.”
Milo whispered, “Set the date up for this weekend. Give her plenty of time to get nervous about it.”
I rolled my eyes, but asked, “What are your plans this Friday night, Cammie? And whatever it is, can I steal you away from it?”
“Steal me? I think I’d go quite willingly.”
She giggled.
Now I just needed to figure out where we would go. And how to get her there. If I were still back in Texas I would have picked her up, but I didn’t have a car, and it seemed odd to pick someone up for the subway.
“Excellent,” I said. “It’s a date. I’ll call you back in a few days to let you know what we’re doing.”
20
Max
My phone rang so early the day after Thanksgiving that it should have been labeled cruel and unusual punishment. I reached out toward my nightstand, knocking off who knew what until my fingers finally closed around my phone.
“What?” I grumbled.
“Good morning, sweetie.”
Ugh . . . it was way too early for this.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Your father and I are at the airport. Our flight has been delayed.”
Oh no. If she said that they were going to stay even longer, I would go crazy. I had to get back to the band and back to work, and I had reached my crazy quota for the week.
“I’m sorry, Mom. There’s no chance they’ll cancel it, is there?”
“Oh, no, honey. Just something about the pilot’s plane being late the night before, so they’re required to give him so much rest. We’ll be back in Oklahoma by this evening.” Thank God. “But your father and I were talking, and we just wanted to tell you again how much we liked Cade.”
I was pretty sure that was already abundantly clear, thanks.
“You know, we’ve been worried about you. Your father and I had a lot of difficulty with your decision to drop out of college.” A lot was an understatement. I wouldn’t be surprised if they discussed having me committed as mentally unstable. “But we came around.” After a year of fighting, yeah. “We’ve been helping you pay your rent so you can afford to spend time doing your little music thing.” God, I was going to break out in hives if she called my career and lifelong dream a “little music thing” one more time. “It’s just . . . you’ve been here so long, and your father and I were starting to feel that perhaps it was time to face the facts and grow up.”