THANK YOU 15 page

Melis <3

I hit the Reply button and watched as her message scrolled to the bottom half of the page.

Dork,

I’m pretty sure our IT guy (Hi Shawn!!!!!) is far too busy to sift through my e-mails and read them. But if you want to attach some super-hot photo of yourself, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be opposed. LOL

You’re crazy, just so you know. Joey is really cute, with an accent that kills me every time he talks. He’s from Boston and is “wicked” smart, as he would say. LOL He seems like he totally has his shit together, which is kind of intimidating, to be honest. He asked me out today, just as friends. I don’t know, I don’t want to lead him on…

Tell me about this girl Dean likes. Is she nice? She’s not in a sorority, is she? Make sure she isn’t a bitch, Meli. Dean’s too nice.

I’m pretty sure “he’s” done with me. Although to be honest, I have no idea why. If I ever hear from him again, which I highly doubt, you’ll be my first call.

I love you and miss you so much. Move in with me after you graduate. Just kidding. Not really. When are you coming to visit?

xoxox C.

Even talking about Jack in an e-mail forced my stomach to spin. I tortured myself constantly, thinking up scenarios as to why he stopped liking me. I’d pushed him too far this last time. I’m never happy. His words never mean enough. I’m always asking him to jump through hoops for me.

Ugh. I hated this feeling of self-blame and discontent.

*****

The next two months flew by in a blur. The snow finally melted and spring filled the air with its warmer temperatures, its colors, and its smells as flowers bloomed and trees budded. The dull, colorless winter that was so often gray and dreary quickly gave way to full green trees, white flowers, and bright blue skies. In a word, New York in the spring is amazing.

“Hey, girl,” I answered after seeing Melissa’s name flash across my screen.

“How’s New York today?” she asked happily on the other end.

“So beautiful! Seriously, when are you coming to visit me?” I was so dying to show her the sights of the city.

“Soon, I think! Maybe over break, is the weather nice then?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, to be honest. I think that’s when everyone goes to Florida.”

“Wait, what? They go to Florida willingly?”

“Melissa!” I giggled. “It’s a quick flight and the weather is way better! It’s no different than everyone in So Cal heading to Hawaii.”

“Uh, yes it is. It’s H a w a i i and really, who goes to Florida on purpose?” Her voice sounded so exasperated, it made me smile. “So, have you heard from Jack?”

I should have known that was why she called. The Diamondbacks were coming into town, and she and Dean wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone.

“Nope.”

“Really?” she said, her voice laced with disappointment.

“Really. We have to stop talking about him, Melis. I mean, when will we stop talking about him?” I hated that we had to go over this again; it really didn’t help.

“You’re right. You’re totally right. I’m sorry, Cassie, I really just don’t get it.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” I sighed. The sadness still got to me sometimes.

“So tell me, how’s Joey from Bahhston?”

“He’s good.” I laughed at her attempt at his accent.

“Still making him beg?”

My lack of an answer was all the answer she needed. “Cassie, you can’t stay closed off forever. You need to open up your heart again.”

“I know, it’s just…I’m scarred.”

“We’re all scarred. That’s how we know we’ve lived a life worth fighting for. Love is a battlefield! Thank you, Pat Benatar.” She belted out an off-key rendition of the chorus that made me giggle before continuing. “Our scars don’t point us in the direction we’re headed, Cass, they simply remind us of where we’ve been.”

I remained silent, taking in the very truth of her words. “Cass?”

“I’m here.”

“I think it’s time to let him go,” she suggested, her voice tinged with pain.

My breath whooshed in and out of the phone before she spoke again. “I’m just saying that sometimes letting go is the only way to find out who you’re meant to hold on to.”

“Oh, I like that. Did you make it up?”

“I think I read it online somewhere before.” She laughed. “But let’s pretend it came from this gorgeous head of mine.”

*****

I rested my camera on top of my messy desk and watched as Joey waltzed into the building, his business attire looking more than good on him. He flashed a smile in my direction before walking into the kitchen. I followed him, pretending I needed to fill my already half-filled coffee mug.

“Are you ever going to go out with me?” he asked, his confidence reminding me of Jack.

“Are you ever going to stop asking?”

“Not until you agree.” He stirred his coffee before taking a sip.

“Fine. This is me…agreeing,” I responded, an eerie, all-too-familiar feeling creeping over me.

“It only took me six months. I think that’s a new record.” He leaned in and planted a peck on my cheek. “We’ll leave at six. No overtime for you tonight.”

“Tonight?” I repeated, horrified.

“Tonight. No backing out.”

“I’ll make it work.” I pressed my lips together to stop them from smiling.

*****

“So where are you taking me?” I leaned my head back in the passenger seat of Joey’s car and watched as the city whizzed by us in a blur.

“It’s a surprise.” Joey glanced over at me and smiled.

I really hated surprises. But this guy didn’t know that. He didn’t know anything about me.

He turned onto Grand Central Parkway and I almost started hyperventilating. “Where are we going? Are we going to the game?” I choked out, noticing the stadium on the horizon.

“I overheard you one day talking about baseball and how you went to college with one of the guys on the Diamondbacks. So I got us tickets. Maybe you can see your friend.”

“Oh God. Joey, that’s really sweet and thoughtful and romantic, but I…can’t go to this game with you.”

“Of course you can. Don’t be silly. We don’t have to stay for the whole thing. Have you even seen a game yet? Or been to either stadium?”

I shook my head, unable to come up with a reasonable explanation to stop this train wreck from happening.

“It will be fun. New Yorkers are pretty cool fans. I mean, as long as they aren’t playing the Sox. But you have to experience it.” Joey sounded so excited as he tried to sell me on it while he parked the car.

I’ve already experienced pretty cool fans. Back in college. You have no idea, buddy.

“Promise me that if I want to leave, we will. No questions asked. Okay?”

He stared at me as if I’d asked something completely foreign of him. “Joey, you have to promise me or I’m not stepping one foot out of this car.”

“Fine, I promise.”

“Promise what?” I tested.

“I promise that if you want to leave, we will. Even though you won’t want to leave at all because these seats are choice. You can probably high-five your friend if you want to.”

My legs shook as Joey took my hand, leading me toward the blue and orange gate. Security checked my bag before ushering me through in a slightly less friendly way than I was used to. New Yorkers are a little more brash.

We walked down the stairs toward the field. I could tell by Joey’s pace that we weren’t stopping anytime soon. My stomach knotted up while my heart struggled to remain consistently beating. I refused to look around for Jack, terrified at how my body would react.

When he stopped at the very front row, he turned around and threw out his arms. “Well? What do you think? Pretty great, right?” he asked, clearly proud of his seat-purchasing ability.

“Uh-huh. They’re really close to the field,” I said between laboring breaths, my gaze desperately pinned to his face.

“Are you okay?” He put his hand on my shoulder and I winced.

“I need to get a drink.”

“I’ll get it for you,” he offered, his face creased with worry.

“No, that’s okay. I need to use the restroom too. I’ll be right back.” I tried to force a smile, but my lips felt broken as I rushed back up the stairs and out of view.

I sprinted to the closest bathroom, locking the stall door behind me as my upper body crumpled. With my head between my knees, I began rocking back and forth.

Stop it. You’re acting like an idiot. Jack won’t see you. He never looks up in the stands. He doesn’t even like you anymore, so stop freaking out. It’s time you moved on with your life and got over Jack Carter once and for all. You have got to stop thinking about him because he is clearly not thinking about you.

I nodded as my own thoughts struck a chord within me. I could do this. I could be strong. I could watch Jack play baseball and not want to die from it.

I think.

A few more calming breaths and I unlocked the latch, walking out to face my reflection in the mirror. I wiped at the smears of mascara under my eyes and washed my hands under the running cold water.

I stopped at a concession stand to buy a bottle of water before heading back down to our dugout level seats. Joey smiled as he caught sight of me, his bright white teeth a welcome sign to anyone.

“You okay?” He stood up and took my elbow in concern before sitting down again as I plopped into my seat.

“Much better, thanks,” I answered, taking a drink of water.

“So which one’s your friend from school? Can you tell?”

If seeing Jack didn’t kill me tonight, this guy’s questions were sure going to. I couldn’t really get mad at Joey, he didn’t know any better. It’s not like I’d told him Jack was my ex-boyfriend whom I’d given my entire heart to and he’d given it back to me in pieces. Want a sliver?

I squinted my eyes and pretended to look around the field for Jack. “I can’t tell, sorry. They all look alike in their uniforms.” I bit my bottom lip.

“Do you know if he starts? Or what position he plays?”

“I have no idea, honestly.”

“Well, what did he play in college?” He kept pushing questions at me and I wanted to scream.

“He was a pitcher,” I replied, forcing back the burning in my chest with another gulp of water.

“Ahhhh, I see.” Joey nodded. “Then he might not even play tonight. I’m sorry if he doesn’t.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t planning on watching him anyway. You forced me here, remember?” I attempted to smile and he tossed an arm around my shoulder.

“You haven’t even told me your friend’s name. What is it?”

Jesus. This guy was relentless.

“Jack Carter.” I almost stumbled on his name. I hadn’t said it out loud to anyone in almost six months, not counting Dean or Melissa.

“You know Jack Carter?” His jaw dropped before he continued. “He’s an incredible player! And he’s starting tonight.”

“Really? He’s starting?” I braced myself.

“Yeah! Pretty cool, huh?” He leaned his head back before tossing some peanuts in his mouth.

By the time the game started, my body was filled with so much anxiety that I kept shifting in my seat. I grinned as Jack walked onto the field, pleased to see that he still sported the number twenty-three on the back of his jersey.

“That’s your boy, right?” Joey said, pointing at Jack as he made his way to the mound for pre-game warm-ups.

Was.

“That’s him.” My eyes followed the lines of Jack’s new uniform, noting the muscle he’d gained in his legs and chest. He took my breath away.

Jack stood on the mound, every motion and move he made careening through me with familiarity. The fluid movements of his body—the way it bent, curved, kicked, and then released the ball—destroyed me emotionally.

Tears started to burn my eyes. “I can’t be here. I have to go.” I bolted from my seat, shooting up the cement stairs.

“Cassie! Cassie, wait!” Horrified at the volume at which Joey shouted my name, I stopped dead in my tracks and turned slowly to face him. Then I made the mistake of glancing at the field.

Jack’s eyes were focused on me, the look on his face unlike any expression I’d ever seen on him before. My hand flew to my mouth as Joey reached me, placing his arm protectively around me. I noticed Jack’s jaw working as he dropped his head and refocused his attention toward the batter’s box.

“What’s going on, Cassie?” Joey asked, his arm still circled around my waist.

“Jack and I used to date.” I pursed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Was it serious?” His voice sounded confused but curious.

“It was.” I took a quick breath and opened my eyes, and looked squarely into his. “But it didn’t end well. I’m sorry, Joey, I should have told you.”

“You’re not obligated to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. You basically told me earlier that you didn’t want to come, but I didn’t listen.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I tilted my head to one side and he rubbed my neck.

“Look, Cassie, I like you. I’d still like to take you out. But I promise, no more baseball games.” He threw up his hands in a surrender pose.

I snickered. “That sounds nice. But right now I really want to go home. Would you mind dropping me off?”

“Of course not. Come on.” Joey reached for my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine as he guided me away from the stadium and Jack. I climbed the stairs behind him grimly, the look I’d seen on Jack’s face running circles in my already fragile mind.

TWENTY-THREE

After Joey dropped me off, I ran upstairs and slammed my apartment door, tossing my body like a rag doll onto the gently-used couch I’d purchased as soon as I arrived in New York. I cried into the velvet-like cushion, my tears soaking in as I reached for my cell phone.

“Yo,” Melissa answered, rowdy cheers screaming in the background.

“Melis?” I choked out.

“Cass? What’s wrong? Shit, I can’t hear anything. Hold on a sec, ’K?” She didn’t really ask. “Excuse me. I said excuse me, move please. Ugh. Cass? Cassie, can you hear me?”

The noise faded into the background with each word she said. “Oh my God, Melissa. I saw Jack tonight. He saw me. It was horrible.” The words tumbled from my lips.

“What do you mean? Slow down and tell me everything.”

“I finally agreed to go out with Joey from work. He’s super nice, by the way, but anyway. I guess he overheard me talking to someone about how I was good friends with a baseball player in college and how that player was on the Diamondbacks. Well, Joey thought it would be sweet to surprise me—”

“Oh no, he didn’t. This guy needs a Cassie 101 lesson,” she interrupted.

“Anyway, so he won’t tell me where we’re going and then we pull up at the baseball stadium because they’re playing Jack’s team and Jack was warming up and I lost it, Melissa. I fucking lost it.” I covered my eyes with one hand.

“Go on.”

“So I practically ran from my seat and Joey screamed my name. I mean, he shouted it so loud I think the people in space heard!”

“Oh my God.” Melissa sounded horrified.

“I turned around and Jack was just staring at me with this look on his face.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I’ve never seen that look on his face before. I think he hates me.” I sobbed into the phone, wishing she was next to me.

“He doesn’t hate you. Stop saying that,” she chastised, her voice irritated.

“You didn’t see his face or his eyes. What do I do? Should I text him? Should I do nothing?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I’m so tired of doing nothing when it comes to him. For the last six months, I’ve just accepted that he hasn’t tried to talk to me. But the whole time I’m sitting here going insane trying to figure out why. I know I could end all my suffering by picking up the phone and talking to him. But do I do that? No, because that’s what a normal, sane person would do. And clearly, I’m neither.”

“I think you should text him. Or call. But you’re right. You should say something. This has got to stop between you two. Either work it out, or give each other closure and move the hell on.”

The word closure caused my insides to twist again. “I don’t want closure. I don’t want to move on.”

“I know you don’t,” she agreed calmly, “but this thing between the two of you…whatever it is…I know it’s not good for you. I don’t give a fuck if it’s good for him.”

“Okay, well, I think I’ll call him while he’s still playing and leave him a voice mail.”

“Wimp.”

“I know, but that way the ball’s in his court.”

“Let me know what happens. Love you.” She made a kissy sound into the phone before hanging up, and I dialed Jack’s number.

Straight to voice mail. “Hey, Jack, it’s me…Cassie. I just wanted to apologize for the craziness at the game tonight. It’s sort of a long story, but I…” I paused, my chest deflating. “I just miss you.”

He didn’t call back.

*****

Two weeks passed since the game which Melissa and I now referred to as “the incident” whenever it was discussed.

My doorman’s kind and raspy voice blared through the speaker box in my apartment. “Miss Andrews, there’s a package down here for you. Do you want me to bring it up, or would you like to come get it?”

“Can you bring it up, Fred? I’d really appreciate it.” I released the button before quickly pressing it again. “Unless you’re busy, then I can come down. Whatever is more convenient for you, Fred. Thanks.”

“Okay, Miss Andrews. I’ll be up soon.”

I plopped back onto my couch and continued to watch TV until the doorbell rang. I opened it to see Fred, dressed in his dark gray work suit and black bow tie. He was all smiles as he warned, “Careful, Miss Andrews, it’s really heavy.” He heaved the package into my arms.

“Holy crap, Fred, what the heck is this? Someone sending me weights? I’m sorry you had to carry this all the way up. Thank you.”

“Not a problem, Miss Andrews. It’s my job,” he said with a warm smile that made me want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze.

I closed the door as he left, lugging the incredibly heavy package back onto the couch with me. I tore through the brown paper wrapping to reveal an old shoebox with a note on top.

I can’t live without your Touch. You’ll see that I’ve provided enough money to pay for at least twenty years or so.

I lifted the lid to reveal the entire contents of the box filled with quarters. My heart raced as my mind tried to figure out if this meant what I thought it did. I glanced toward the corner of my living room where the original mason jar filled with Cassie’s Quarters sat on a shelf. Confused, I reached for my cell to call Melissa when my doorbell rang again.

I tossed my cell on top of the quarters and shoved off the couch to answer the door. I cocked my head when I noticed Fred standing there, holding another box in his arms. “Fred?”

“Sorry I didn’t call. I just figured I’d bring this one up too.” He held the package out and I grabbed it, relieved that it didn’t weigh three hundred pounds like the first one.

Confusion sprinted marathons through my head. “Was this with the original package?”

“No, miss, it arrived separately.” Fred gave me a big smile.

“Okay. Thanks again,” I said before closing the door and returning to my seat on the couch.

I tore through the same brown paper wrapping to reveal another box with a note on top.

Your Passion is inspiring. I can’t live without the way you use it to see the world.

I opened the lid to reveal four individually framed photos that I had taken for the magazine’s website over the last few months. One of them was from when I’d first gotten here. He’d chosen some of my favorites of the scenes I’d shot of the city, the people I’d captured, and the way a building caught the light of the sunset. He’d been following my work the whole time.

The bell ringing caused me to jump from my current revelation. I peered from around the door to see Fred standing there yet again, another package in tow. “Fred, what’s going on?”

“I’m not really sure, Miss Andrews. They just keep arriving.” He shrugged.

“Okay. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t be. It’s kind of fun!” He laughed.

“Who keeps bringing them?” I asked, wondering if Jack was here before I realized that his team played in Houston this week.

“Some young kid,” he offered.

“Weird.”

“Weird indeed.” He nodded before turning away.

I took two steps toward the table closest to the door and sat, peeling the wrapping back.

Your Mind is filled with tests and goals and reasons why you should always say no. But I can’t live without you and here are reasons why you should say yes.

I removed a framed eight-by-ten photo of my rules typed in a girlish font that I wondered who helped him pick out.

Cassie’s Rules for a Happy Life:

#1 – Don’t Lie

#2 – Don’t Cheat

#3 – Don’t Make Promises You Can’t Keep

#4 – Don’t Say Things You Don’t Mean

Attached underneath rule number four was a handwritten note taped to the glass.

I know I’ve broken your rules and I don’t deserve a second chance, but I promise you that I’ll never break them again. I think it was Ghandi who said, “Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” I hope you have the strength to forgive me.

#1 – I lied because I was terrified of losing you. I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s the only reason I have for being untruthful. I’ll never lie to you again.

#2 – This one kills me more than I can put into words. I have no excuse for my behavior that night but I can only tell you that I’ll never even look at another girl again if that’s what it takes. I’ll never drink another drop. Just tell me what I have to do to get you to forgive me. I’m not asking you to forget, just forgive.

#3 – I promise to spend the rest of my life making you happy if you’ll let me.

#4 – I told you once that you were my game changer. I meant it then and it still holds true now. There’s no getting over you.

Tears dropped from my eyes as my heart caught in my throat. All my emotions jumbled together as I tried to sort them out but failed.

Another quick ring of the bell and I didn’t even attempt to wipe my eyes before I answered it. “Hi, Fred,” I said, the tears still rolling down.

“Good tears or bad tears?” His tired eyes widened at the sight of me.

“Good tears.” I snickered.

“Whew!” he exclaimed as he playfully wiped the non-existent sweat from his brow. “Here’s the latest.” He handed me a large manila envelope.

“Thanks again.” I reached for it before closing the door, already undoing the small fastener on the back.

Eye-rolling is bad for you, Kitten, and here are the reasons why.

I laughed out loud as I turned through the pages filled with ridiculous pictures of people and pets rolling their eyes. He attached a few completely made-up articles about “The Unknown Dangers of Eye-Rolling!”

I rolled my eyes as the doorbell rang for the last time. “Fred. I feel like I should just leave my door open for the rest of the night,” I teased.

“This is the last one, Miss Andrews,” he said, handing me the last brown paper-wrapped box.

I breathed in deeply before giving Fred a quick hug. “Thank you for not getting irritated by all of this, Fred.”

“It’s been fun. Have a good night.” He closed the door for me as I settled into the couch next to the box of quarters.

I unwrapped the box more slowly, knowing that it would be the last. There was an envelope taped to the top of the box that said Read Me First. With my emotions in overdrive, I ripped open the envelope, reaching for the paper inside.

Kitten,

Letting go of someone who owns your heart is hard. Sometimes holding on to that person is even harder. I know I’m not the easiest person to love, but you are.

It’s not that I can’t live without you; it’s that I don’t want to. There’s a difference. We all make choices in life and I choose you.

My heart belongs to you. And I’m not asking for it back, even if you don’t want it anymore. I’m just asking for the chance to have yours again. I promise I’ll be more careful with it this time.

Love Always,

Jack

I opened the box, the tears blurring my vision almost completely as I looked inside. The box was empty, except for a lone envelope that sat taped to the bottom with the words Read Me Last written in black Sharpie marker.

My finger tore through the thick sealed paper before pulling out the small note folded over once.

Kitten,

Open your front door.

My head spun around and my mouth opened as I eyed my front door, unsure of what would be behind it. I hopped off the couch, turned the knob, and pulled it open.

“Oh my God.”

Jack stood outside my door carrying a dozen red roses. It was only once he lowered his arms that I could see the uniform he was wearing. The word Mets was written across an all-white jersey with dark blue and orange lettering. It reminded me of his old uniform from college and my mind instantly flashed back to seeing him on the mound. “Why are you wearing a Mets jersey?”

“I got traded.” The sound of his voice melted through my every pore like butter, instantly sending me back in time.

“They traded you?” I managed to ask through my surprise.

“Well, technically,” he said, his trademark dimples flashing, “I asked.”

“You asked what?”

“I asked to be traded to the Mets.” He looked down at his feet.

*****

I rapped my knuckles against the manager’s glass door. He looked up from his computer. “Come in.” He motioned with his hand before glaring at me. “What’s up, Carter?”

“Well, um, I know this is really unorthodox but I was wondering if I could get traded, sir,” I asked him nervously. My agents were going to kill me when they heard what I was attempting to do.

“Why the hell do you want to go and do that?” he snapped as the irritation spread across his face.

“It’s just that I love this sport and I want to play. But there’s a girl I love too. And the only way I can have both is if I move.”

I sound like a total pussy.

He is going to ream me for this.

He dug out a pencil from the mess on his desk and twirled it around in his fingers while he thought a moment, before he used it to point at me. “So you’re telling me that you want me to put you up for the eligible trade options because you need to be closer to some girl?”

“She’s not just some girl, sir. And I know it sounds bad, but I need this. If it’s possible, I need this. And if it’s not, just tell me. I won’t ask you again. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least ask.”

“Son, you realize that you can live with this girl during the off-season, right? That’s three, sometimes four months.”

“That’s not enough time,” I responded respectfully.

“Where’s this special girl live?” He tapped the pencil against his desk in an irritated rat-a-tat.

“New York.”

“Hell! We’re in New York a couple times a season. And Florida and Boston aren’t far!” He stopped and glared at me. “And you’re telling me you’d like me to trade you to New York? You know after your contract expires, they won’t have the budget to pay you like we have?” He threw the pencil down on his desk before he stood up to face me with his hands on his hips.

“With all due respect, sir, it’s not about the money.”

*****

“So you live here now?” My eyes widened.

“Just got in. Can I come in?”

“Of course. Yes.” I stumbled as I moved aside, and gestured for him to come in.

“These are for you.” He pushed the roses toward me.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” I replied, sniffing at them before moving to put them on the counter in the kitchen.

He looked around my apartment, taking in the details, then focused on the pile of things he had sent.

“I see you got my gifts.” He motioned toward the couch.

“Mm-hmmm,” I mumbled, still in shock that he was actually here.

“Cassie.” He moved his body close to mine and ran his fingers through my hair, tucking pieces behind my ear. I scanned the scruff on his face, the black of his hair, the chocolate color of his eyes, before reaching out to touch him.

“Do you still love me?” he asked, his eyes unsure.

“I never stopped,” I admitted breathlessly.

“Me either.” He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled his mouth to mine. His tongue caressed mine with slow, deliberate movements, and if I could have turned to liquid and dissolved into his arms, I would have.

Date: 2015-01-29; view: 564