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Authors: Melanie Ting

How The Cookie Crumbles (9 page)

BOOK: How The Cookie Crumbles
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Jake

I was at the gym Friday at 4 o’clock and Frankie was nowhere to be seen. I kept looking around and finally Brad asked me why I was so distracted. “Or should I say, more distracted than usual?” he added.

“No reason,” I told him. Brad liked me to be totally intense when I worked out, but it was a challenge. Your mind just naturally wanders, right? Being at the gym was not like playing hockey, I could focus 110% on hockey.

“If you’re looking for Frankie, she never comes in Fridays. She works.

“Really? Because I went by the bakery and she wasn’t there.”

“Jake! You’re actually going to the bakery before the gym? No wonder I can’t get anywhere with your fitness, you’re not optimizing your nutritional intakes.”

I guess he meant eating the wrong stuff. But to call eating “optimizing your nutritional intakes” seemed even worse. Food was supposed to be about enjoying yourself or having good times with friends or family. I shook my head, “I didn’t eat before, I just got a drink.”

Then he went off on me about pop, and how I shouldn’t be drinking it. I knew this stuff, but it was hard to be constantly in training. I liked to relax in the summer. Once he was done, I brought up the subject of Frankie again.

“So, she wasn’t working at the bakery.”

“No, she’s got two jobs. She’s a waitress at The Keg in the evenings.” Then he gave me an appraising look. “You know, she might be a good person for you to train with, you know, on the days you’re not working with me.”

“Why? Because she cleaned my clock at chin-ups?”

“No, because she lost weight too. I think she lost a fair bit of weight a few years ago and she’s successfully kept it off. I don’t know all the details, but we’ve chatted about it.”

“Really? Cause there’s certainly nothing wrong with her body now,” I commented.

“Well, she could be more cut. She’s got muscle, but she lacks definition. If she decreased her body fat percentage and did some muscle specific training, she could look a lot better.”

I didn’t agree with that at all. Brad was all into perfect bodies, but I wanted to have a useful body that worked on the ice, and so far my body had taken me everywhere I wanted to go. To Junior A, to the World Juniors, and to the NHL. Plus, it’s not even about your body, it’s about your head. My biggest strength was my ability to see the ice, and that wasn’t something you could develop with chin-ups.

And if I wanted a girlfriend I wouldn’t want a body builder, I’d want a woman with curves and softness. And I’d like her to have something in her head as well.

So far, it seemed like Frankie was sending me mixed signals, sometimes interested and other times not. But a little challenge can be fun. I had my choice of girls in town, but someone brand new was always interesting. If she worked at The Keg, that might work into my plans for tonight anyway. And show her that I wasn’t some loner stalking her, as she seemed to think.

When I brought Brittany to The Keg, we were out on a date, but I figured I could kind of kill two birds with one stone and check out Frankie’s other life. What I didn’t figure was that as usual, she’d be so prickly about everything. She carded me right off the top, and I was wondering if spitting in my food would be next. She was wearing a white shirt and a red tie with pants, which wasn’t really hot or anything, but her shirt seemed to fit her better than anyone else’s. I watched her walk across the room towards us and she winked at me.

“Here are your drinks, and I have great news,” Frankie told us with a big smile on her face. She looked so pretty when she smiled. “Vince, our manager this evening, would like to offer you these compliments of the house, just to ensure that you both are enjoying yourselves and having a wonderful night here.”

“Wow, that’s great!” said Brittany, happily. “Does he do that for everyone?”

“Not at all,” Frankie beamed back, “In fact, this is the first time I’ve known him to comp drinks.” Well, that might be true, but she had only worked here for a couple of weeks, hadn’t she? She lowered her voice and spoke directly to Brittany, “I think it’s because Jake here is quite the celebrity in town. You are a lucky lady! And Jake’s a lucky guy!”

And she didn’t even look at me when she said that, but I had a really strong feeling that she was being sarcastic. However, she was so good at it, that if you didn’t know her you couldn’t tell at all, and Brittany was looking impressed. It was like Frankie was my wingman and she was trying to help me score here.

The other weird thing that happened was when we were ordering; Frankie was totally into the food part of the order. She wanted to tell us exactly how things were cooked and what special spices and stuff were used. It wasn’t like everyone and their dog hadn’t been to The Keg before. Plus she was all happy when I ordered a Keg combo, telling me what a good choice it was. She seemed less impressed when Brittany ordered Thai chicken, and I guess it was a little odd to order chicken at a beef place.

Brittany was a girl I knew a little bit from high school but she was older so we had never really hung out before. She was nice, and she was really into hearing about Los Angeles and any famous people I had met.

“Can I get you both another drink?” Frankie interrupted, and cleared away our appetizer plates.

“Sure,” said Brittany, smiling. Liquor seemed to make her more relaxed and even friendlier. She kept touching me as we talked.

“Actually, I’d like to switch to Diet Coke,” I said, looking up at her. Frankie’s eyes were this dark, chocolaty colour, just like her hair. She was looking right back at me and for a moment I lost my train of thought. “I, uh, have to drive.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to have any performance issues tonight,” murmured Frankie before she disappeared again.

“She seems nice, how do you know her?” Brittany asked.

“Uh, we go to the same gym.” I didn’t think you could really say that we were friends, yet.

Frankie was a good waitress, she kept the refills coming and she always seemed to appear just when we needed something. The meal was great, Brittany had a great time, and when she invited me to her place for a drink afterwards, it seemed like a happy ending was in the cards.

The only dumb thing was that I kind of wished that I were leaving with the waitress instead of my date.

 

13. Coming Up Roses

On Saturday morning, I could sleep in. Through various machinations I had managed to get a whole day off, and I didn’t have to do anything until Mrs. Fitz’s party. Rex had other ideas though, and when I didn’t get up at his regular feeding time, he began with loud meows and nudges, then swiftly escalated to standing on my head. And Rex was not a small cat.

I traipsed into the kitchen to feed Rex and make some coffee, and was surprised to see Chloë there already, all dressed and looking very perky. She handed me a cup of coffee.

“Whassup?” I asked her, only half-conscious. Sometimes sleeping in a little was even more tiring than getting up early.

“I could hardly wait until you got up! I wanted to tell you about my date last night.”

“How did it go?” From Chloë’s happy expression, it looked like all good news.

“Well, at first it seemed like another disaster. We were waiting for the band to start and I went through all your conversational cue cards in the first half hour.”

That was scary to even think about, Chloë talking a mile a minute and bringing up ten random topics in 30 minutes seemed more like a game show than a date.

“And then?”

“And then I found out he’s also a total
Firefly
fan!”

Among Chloë’s many geeky interests was a love of sci-fi westerns, and more specifically a brief television series called
Firefly
and the resulting movie,
Serenity
. And the only reason I know about this is because she forced me to watch everything. Twice! I protected my brain the second time by falling asleep even though the lead character was a hottie.

“That’s great news,” I told her. Not only did it mean that I might not have to take part in any more
Firefly
conversations this summer, it meant that Chloë had relaxed and acted like her own sweet self on the date. She was so adorable, but you had to get past her hyper-nervousness at the beginning. “So I guess that means I won’t need to come along on your second date, right?”

She shook her head, “I guess not, but from what Andrew says, I think that maybe this Jake guy likes you. And it would be fun to go out together.”

“Actually, I saw Jake last night,” I began.

“Really?” Chloë interrupted, happily. “And I thought you worked all night. This is so great, we’ll be like two best friends, dating two best friends. It’s perfect!”

Yeah right, perfect in a completely nauseating way like couples that dress alike. “Let me finish: I saw him at The Keg, on a date with another girl.”

“Oh.” Chloë was disappointed, but could not think of any way around the fact that Jake could not have a crush on me and be dating at the same time.

I finished my coffee and got up. “Would you like a cheese and tomato omelette this morning?”

“Yes, please! Frankie, transfer to Queen’s, okay? I love living with you!”

I was all set for Mrs. Fitz’s birthday party by quarter to one. I had a cute gift, (a pretty china tea cup and saucer, a tin of Irish breakfast tea, and a packet of lemon shortbread biscuits, all wrapped in pastel tissue) I was dressed in a red paisley print sundress with red espadrilles. Once I wore spike heels to a garden party and all I did was sink into the grass, and the host actually asked me if I would mind moving around and aerating a different part of the lawn for him. Espadrilles would be safer, and I had borrowed a straw sunhat from Chloë. I’m pale enough that I have to worry about burning if I stay more than five minutes in the hot sun, and I use a 60 SPF when I go out. I was lurking around the front window when this black car pulled up. I looked closely and it was a new Mercedes convertible. Wow, wow.

I picked up the straw tote I was using for the day, which was big enough to hold the present and all my extra gear. I always carried a big purse, since I liked to be ready for any emergency. Chloë had already gone out to do some thrift store shopping, so I said goodbye to Rex, who was snoozing on the couch surrounded by multi-coloured pillows. We had gone overboard on the crafting sessions, and now the every chair in the living room was covered with pillows.

Liam was just getting out of the car as I walked down the steps of the house. Today he was wearing a pale blue polo, khaki shorts, Top-siders, and Ray Ban aviators. He looked just as handsome as I remembered.

“Hello, Frances!” he called out, “You’re very punctual.”

I smiled happily, but it was true. I was always on time.

He opened the back door of the car for me, “You look lovely today,” he said.

Mrs. Fitz turned around from the front seat. “She always looks lovely, very ladylike.”

Not sure that ladylike was exactly what I was going for when a good-looking guy was around, but having Mrs. Fitz on my side could only be good. I thanked her, and buckled in for the ride. Either his grandmother’s presence or mine was making Liam drive carefully, and we kept to all posted limits on the way to the cottage, despite the powerful car. And the cottage was not really a cottage, but a beautifully renovated antique farmhouse, with a huge property around it. The lawn rolled right down to Lake Ontario, where there was a rocky beach.

Clearly money was no object when it came to fêting their beloved matriarch, it was quite a big gathering with a huge canopy tent with tables for a sit-down dinner. Caterers were circulating with yummy appetizers and wine. There were at least 40 people there, most of them relatives, and I met so many at once that I could hardly remember anyone’s name.

I was chatting to a friendly woman about local farmers markets, when a blonde, perfectly-groomed, middle-aged woman walked up and introduced herself. “I’m Penny, Brendan’s wife.”

“Oh Brendan? Then this is your place? It’s amazingly beautiful,” I told her.

“Thanks. Reno’ing a house built in 1867 was a total horror story, but now that we can relax and enjoy, it’s all worth it. And it’s perfect for family get-togethers. So, Frances, right?”

I nodded. Thanks to Mrs. Fitz, everyone here called me by my proper name, just like my mom and dad.

“Are you Liam’s latest girlfriend?”

“Penny!” the other woman admonished her. “No cross examinations at a party!” She turned to me and explained, “Penny’s a lawyer.”

“Please Lee Anne, like you don’t want to know too. Liam is pretty secretive about his love life, so naturally we’re all interested.” She focussed her laser blue eyes on me.

“Actually, I’m not. Mrs. Fitzgerald invited me, I work at a café she goes to.”

“Oh, the cupcake girl. I get it now! Damn, I was sure you were just his type. Ever since that high school term in Florence, he’s been into sexy brunettes. Are you Italian?”

“Just one eighth.” My grandmother was half-Italian, but it was true that my height and figure came from her side of the family.

Speaking of the devil, Liam came up to us and I started blushing, wondering if he had heard us talking. He had a glass of wine in each hand. He handed me one and smiled.

“I’m guessing that you’re a white wine lover. It’s a Pelee Island Chardonnay.”

“Thank you,” I took the glass from his hand and took a sip. It was a nice light wine, with a lot of fruitiness. “I’m not really familiar with the wines around here.” Due to idiotic federal liquor regulations, none of the B.C. wines I knew were available here and I had to relearn all my wines when I started at The Keg.

“Oh, you don’t live in Kingston?” he wondered.

“No, I’m just here for the summer. I’m actually from Vancouver.”

“Really? You certainly came a long way for a summer job at a café,” Penny observed. “Are you taking courses at Queen’s too?”

“No, I just wanted to get away and have a little change,” I explained lamely. I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone here I fled a nasty break-up. “My best friend lives here, so she invited me to move in with her.”

Everyone seemed to think that moving from beautiful Vancouver to tiny Kingston was a clear sign of my insanity. Mrs. Fitz was the only one who remained in Kingston, apparently everyone else in the family had moved to Toronto, centre of the universe. Abruptly, Penny snapped into hostess mode, and declared that she needed to check in on the caterers. “They’re the third ones I’ve hired from around here, and so far I have yet to find anyone competent. I may have to import my regulars from Rosedale next time.”

BOOK: How The Cookie Crumbles
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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