How The Cookie Crumbles (58 page)

It seemed like a good idea, but I felt a little funny about Frankie dating other guys. What if she found some slick Italian dude and forgot all about me?

She could read my mind. “It’s a two-way street Jake, you want to date other women, so I’m not sitting at home knitting.”

“But, you like knitting,” I pointed out to her.

“Yup. But I like men too.” She still seemed a little too happy about all this, but it wasn’t right for me to get upset when it was all kinda what I wanted.

“Okay, it’s a plan,” I agreed, but I was frowning. Talk about mixed feelings, I was happy and unhappy at the same time. I couldn’t deny there was a ton of temptation out there and dating Frankie was like having a frigging Jiminy Cricket on my shoulder all the time. But I also knew that when I was with her, I felt good in a whole new way that I was starting to get used to.

“You know how I feel about you Jake, but it’s clear that the timing is not right for us. If we want to have a real chance, I think this is the best way.”

She was as bossy as ever, but I was used to it now. And she usually had good ideas. Meantime, we were going to have a holiday together in the summer. I wondered if we could be like camels, and I could fuck her enough on our trip so she would be all filled up and wouldn’t need an Italian guy for a year. Worth a try, anyway.

Frankie laid her head on my chest, and I could smell her flowery shampoo. I swallowed, thinking about how much I would miss her.

“So you mean it? I am into you Frankie, I think you’re for real, but it’s just… too soon for me.”

For once, we were in complete agreement. I loved Jake, but we were way too young to get serious; we needed to have a lot more life experiences. I was looking forward to going to Italy, and he was probably looking forward to a whole bunch of stuff I really didn’t want to think about.

I looked up at Jake and smiled. Now I got to be the one to tell him to relax. “I don’t think we should worry about the future. While I’m in Europe, I’ll do my own thing, and you can do your own thing. When I get back next summer, we can touch base and see where things are at.”

“Yeah, actually we start the season in Europe in October, so maybe you can come to Sweden or Germany and see us.”

“Maybe, but I’ll be busy with classes. Meanwhile, we’ve got this summer to be together.”

He looked at me happily. “Yeah, we have got all summer, and it’s going to be an awesome one.” Then he leaned over and gave me a big, wet kiss.

Epilogue

Two years later

My plane was landing in Montreal, and I was going to spend a few days there. Now I had been to Europe and still not seen most of Canada. Chloë had arranged to meet me there, and we were planning a shop-a-thon and a museum-a-thon. Chloë was still dating Andrew, for three years now, and that seemed to be pretty serious. I wouldn’t be totally surprised if she had news to tell me on that front.

And thinking about Andrew and the summer in Kingston reminded me of Jake. I really hadn’t thought too much about him lately. We kept in touch at first, but he was pretty busy and not much of a writer in any case. He had phoned a few times, but it wasn’t like we had worked on maintaining things. Plus, Italian men were very nice looking, their suits alone were swoon-worthy. And then there was Ron, an American grad student I had met there. He was studying architecture, and he had developed a particular fondness for renaissance buildings and Canadian girls.

I had kept my word and done my own thing. For a while, I did miss Jake, but to be honest, it was so fascinating to live in another place that I really didn’t have time to imagine all those Hollywood girls he was probably fooling around with. I didn’t regret one moment I had spent in Italy, which is probably why I ended up staying an extra year there. I had met so many amazing people and seen such incredible art; but most of all, I had gained a lot of confidence in myself. Now I felt I could take care of myself, in any country or in any situation. I don’t know if that was from being in Italy or just growing up.

I had missed Canada though, and missed my family and friends. It was good to be back. I was meeting Chloë at this hotel downtown where she had gotten a great three-nights-for-the-price-of-two deal. Naturally my bank account was depleted, and I’d have to assess the job prospects back home, but I wasn’t worrying about that until after my little holiday in Montreal. As I passed through the gates with my excess luggage, (even after shipping some stuff home, since I couldn’t trust my new Italian clothes and shoes to the courier services), I looked for the taxi signs. A portly middle-aged man in a driver’s uniform tipped his hat at me; he was holding a sign that read “Frances Taylor.”

“Um, that’s me. But I wasn’t expecting to be picked up.”

“
Mais mademoiselle
, I was sent to find you.” He picked up all my bags skilfully, and I trailed behind with only my leather tote.

A big black limousine was waiting by the curb, with the motor still running. He put the bags behind the car, and then opened the door for me. I leaned inside and saw Jake. He was wearing shorts and a black t-shirt and looking slightly incongruous inside an expensive limo, as usual he looked like he should be driving a beater… or a Zamboni.

“Jake! What are you doing here?”

“I came to pick you up.”

He patted the seat beside him, but I sat across from him, then leaned back and crossed my legs. He could enjoy the view better that way, and I wanted to see what was up first. Obviously Chloë or Andrew had tipped him off about my arrival.

He gave me a slow once-over and smiled, “How can anyone look so good after a trans-Atlantic flight?”

Good thing I had primped a bit in the washroom, but I’ve always found that looking good when flying has its benefits. I was wearing a red jersey wrap dress, pink raw silk bolero and hot pink Italian sandals in a leather so soft it was like wearing velvet. The customs agents in Firenze had approved, and I had walked through with no hassles other than appreciative smiles despite all my extra baggage. And now Jake looked like he approved as well.

“So Frankie, we’re checking in after our time apart.” He uncorked a small bottle of champagne and handed me a glass.

I smiled and took a sip, feeling very sophisticated and enjoying the tickle of the bubbles. The car started up and off we went.

“I missed you, babe.” Jake sighed, “A lot.”

“Did you get everything out of your system?”

“Hmm, well I tried,” he smirked knowingly, “but it was hard to find anyone who matched you.”

“In the kitchen or in the bedroom?”

“In the everywhere,” Jake replied, leaving all notions of grammar behind.

Meanwhile, I had found lots of guys who looked better, dressed better, and spoke better English, even though it was their second language. However, I hadn’t found anyone who made me laugh as much. And that was worth a lot.

“Where are we going?” I wondered.

“A nice hotel,” Jake looked pretty happy about this.

“What about Chloë?”

“Oh, she and Andrew are using the room she booked. And don’t worry, you’ll get to do your shopping together.”

“You’ve got everything planned, don’t you? What if I’m not interested anymore?”

“Oh Frankie, how can you not be interested in me? I seem to remember you were all over me last time we were together. I had to fight you off.”

“You wish! You were the one telling me you weren’t ready to settle down and have a real girlfriend.”

“Give me a break, you felt the same way!” Jake made a face at this.

I laughed and drank some more champagne. “If I get tipsy, will you try to take advantage of me?”

“Only you would use the word ‘tipsy,’ and of course, I’ll try to take advantage of you when you’re drunk. Or sober, or asleep, whatever.” He gave an evil laugh, then looked more determined. “I know how hot you are, but now that I see you, you’re even hotter.”

I started to blush, as he looked me over with half-closed eyes. Could somebody actually undress you with his eyes? Because he was trying hard. Jake reached over and pulled my foot into his lap.

“I like these high-heeled shoes.”

“They’re Italian, the leather is so soft and comfortable,” I explained.

“Not as soft as what’s in them.” He ran his hand up my calf. I took a deep breath, his hand on me was stirring familiar feelings. “You know Frankie, I’d like to see you in these shoes – just these shoes.

“Really? Because I have some Italian lingerie you might be interested in as well.”

“What’s that like?” he asked eagerly.

I watched his face as I used one finger to pull back the neckline of my dress so he could just see the lacy edge of my deep pink bra. He seemed to be more interested in the cleavage part of the view though, as usual. He sighed happily and licked his lips. Then he adjusted my foot so it was wedged between his strong thighs.

“Aren’t you taking a chance, having a sharp heel so near… the snake?” I asked, giggling.

“That’s Mr. Snake to you, babe,” he told me, “and no, I think you like the snake almost as much as I do.”

“I don’t like that moustache though,” I told him. He had grown a kind of moustache goatee combo, which was ugly. His hair was long, but I liked that.

“I thought I might get you to shave it off,” he paused, “and I can return the favour.”

“Actually, I’ve gone full-European, no shaving anywhere.”

Jake looked alarmed, and then ran both hands up my leg. “Liar, your legs are nice and smooth.” He leaned forward and tried to run his hands up further. I put my hands down to stop him and tried to pull my foot back with no success. His thighs were pretty strong.

“Stop Jake, before we do anything, we need to have the talk first.”

“Really? Well Frankie, when a man and a woman really care about each other, something magical happens, they….”

“Not that talk, idiot. The health talk.”

“I knew you’d want to talk health. So here,” he pulled out his wallet and then found a folded-up paper and handed it to me. It was a full check up with blood tests and everything. Jake was clean.

“Wait, this was two weeks ago. Who knows what you’ve been doing since then.”

“Just savin’ myself for you, babe. Hope you slept a lot on the plane.”

“Well, I did.” He was making me a little nervous. “But aren’t you going to ask me the same thing?”

“Yeah, any guy would be lucky to get near Frankie without a hazmat suit. I’m sure you’re good to go.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? I was going to take it as a compliment, and what was his favourite word? Oh yeah, relaaaaax. I sat back, drank some more champagne, and used my trapped foot to nudge Jake in the general direction of his balls. By the crooked lift of his eyebrows, I figured I had gotten close.

We were staying at a hotel called Le Germaine in downtown Montreal. It was gorgeous and all minimalist cool in white and black, and I happily checked out our suite. It had one of those bathrooms with the window into the bedroom. Perfect for someone that had no personal boundaries like Jake, but maybe a little daunting for me; however, there were blinds. I was running a hand over the king-sized bed with its pressed white sheets, when I noticed Jake watching me from the doorway. He was leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.

“Happy?” he wondered.

“Uh huh, very nice. And where are you sleeping?”

Jake walked over, and put a hand around my waist. “I told you babe, I’m not sleeping tonight. And neither are you.” He kissed the back of my neck and then spun me around. He put his hands on the side of my cheeks and lifted my face to his. “Missed you lots, Frankie.” Then he kissed me, his lips soft and warm and moist. He squeezed me into him and held me tight. I loved that familiar feeling of being safe and happy, against his strong chest.

It felt good, really good. I was still attracted to him, and there wasn’t even any hockey needed. It wasn’t about looks either, although when I had first seen his wide grin and dark eyes, I felt a rush of desire. I realized that it was now Jake’s personality that made me care about him: his humour, his laid-back nature, his sweet ways. I was the yin to his yang, and together we were in balance.

“I don’t like this t-shirt,” I told him as I pulled on its printed front, and he looked a little hurt. Then I smiled, “You better take it off.”

He grinned happily and yanked off the t-shirt. “Um, how do you feel about my shorts?” he asked eagerly.

“Ugly.” And they were. I didn’t like his boxer briefs either. I think we needed to go shopping together in here in stylish Montreal, but there were other things to do right now. I pushed Jake onto the bed and he half lay there, resting on his elbows. Mr. Whitesnake was already happy to see me.

“You’re looking good,” I told him. He was looking good, more muscular and cut than I had ever seen him.

“Ah well, you’ll be happy to know I’m very committed to my fitness these days.” He grinned up at me, “And my stamina as well.”

That thought made me shiver with anticipation. I pulled off my jacket, and slowly undid the cord holding my dress together. I opened it up like a coat and watched Jake’s eyes and smile widen. I had on a lacy fuchsia bra and matching lace panties. I kept my shoes on because he had requested that. Jake always made me feel great, like I was super sexy. When I walked closer to him, he pulled me down on top of him and we started kissing in an almost desperate way, pressing our lips over every place we could reach on each other’s bodies.