CHAPTER NINE
Jake, in another black suit, waits for me outside at the end of my workday on Thursday. He opens the back door and I expect to see Finn waiting for me, but he isn’t. In his place sits a small rectangular green box with a large white bow wrapped around it. I assume the box is for me, but I don't reach to take it. Finn’s absence hits me harder than I would have expected. I’ve gotten used to his smiling face before and after work each day. His excitement is infectious. Finn always leaves me in a good mood.
“Are we picking Finn up now?” I question as soon as Jake is in the vehicle.
He meets my eyes in the rear view mirror and hesitates in his answer. “He had to stay late for a meeting, but he said he hoped the surprise made up for him not being here.”
“Oh.” Jake’s comments don’t sound good. "Do you have to go back and wait for him?” I quickly work out a plan to talk Jake into making me a tagalong. I still haven’t been to the building Finn works in. He’s only told me they recently bought it and now the entire building is under renovation. It’s supposed to be a huge mess with saw dust everywhere. I’m nosy. I want to see where these boys sit around and play video games all day. Is there a mini-fridge? Those weird no-armed rocking chairs my brother had back in the late nineties? There has to be at least bean bags. No game room is complete without bean bags.
“No. Finn’s going to catch a cab. I’ll get you home and then I’m done for the night,” he replies.
The drive will be short, but I spend a few minutes opening the package now. I wasn’t born with patience. Wrapped inside the box, under a thin layer of white tissue paper sit two Cahabón, Guatemalan chocolate bars. They were my favorite from our post taco taste test back at the chocolate factory last night. They are splendid with the spiced Mission Hot Chocolate I used my gift card on. A perfect dessert.
Similar to Finn the gift is simple, but in its simplicity there is so much meaning. I do nothing but stare at the two bars before I put the lid back on the box. My Grandma and brother were both great to grow up with, but I haven’t had many other people in my life who have done the little gestures for me. I’ve dated in the past, but never someone with Finn’s way about him. He may only be three years older than me, but at twenty-seven he’s lightyears away from any of the other boys I’ve dated. It has me off balance.
I send a quick text thank you and wish him luck on his endless meeting, but don’t receive a response before Jake pulls up to the apartment. I don’t wait for him to open my door and hop out with a quick thanks and wave so he can get home.
A figure leans against the side of my brick building, a thick black hoodie covering his head and eyes. At first I’m uneasy. Without a doorman anyone could be loitering out here, but as Jake pulls away from the curb I have no other choice but to continue my walk to the door.
As I get closer the person moves forward, “Pen?”
I recognize the voice. Cody, Marissa’s fiancé steps in front of me before I get to the front door.
“Cody, what are you doing here? Where’s Marissa? Is she okay?” I’ve known Cody for the four years he’s dated Marissa, but I can’t think of a single reason he would be here alone unless there was a problem. Did I miss an important call?
He drops his head, his face now hidden. The street lamps and light from the lobby cast him in eerie shadows. As his head raises again, I make out the stubble on his face and bloodshot eyes even in the darkness. “I need help, Pen. Can we talk? Please”
“Okay, come on. Let’s go upstairs.” I enter the lobby and we make a silent climb to the top floor. Cody is one of the most put together people I've ever met. Even in college when Marissa and I were still attending class in slippers, you could find him walking the halls in a suit. He works in the finance district with stocks and bonds. His dress isn’t just a job requirement, but a part of who he is. The fact he’s so unkempt tonight does not bode well for any of us.
Cody acts cagey. He keeps his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets the entire walk. I hold my questions past the keypad, but as we make it to my private door, I can’t contain them any longer. “What’s going on, Cody? You have freaked me out.”
“I fucked up, Pen. I don’t know what to do.” He pushes his way into my apartment in some weird attempt to hide from all my non-existent neighbors and starts to pace in the small area between my kitchen and living room. “I’m so screwed. I fucked up. It’s so bad.”
A hundred thoughts flash through my head. Is he involved in illegal activity at work? Messed up one of Marissa’s crazy wedding details? Cody pushes the hood from his head and I gasp when I get my first good view at his face.
“Oh my God, were you in a fight? What happened?”
The left side of his cheek has three deep scratches from the bottom of his eye, past his nose. They end right above his top lip. They aren’t bleeding, but it’s easy to see they did at one point.
“Marissa.” His one-word answer stalls me.
“Marissa did this to you?” I reject the thought immediately. Marissa has never been violent.
He walks to my fridge and opens it peeking inside at the paltry contents. It must be a nervous trait because Cody has never been so brazen before. “Marissa attacked me. She was wild and crazy. I deserved it. I deserve worse.”
Now I’m worried and my heart sinks. “What did you do, Cody?” I’m scared of his answer, but I have to ask. Why would he think he deserved worse?
“I was so stupid, Pen. There was this girl.” Cody grabs the bottle of vodka I keep in the side of the door, and I’m quick to hand him two glasses. I have a sick feeling I know where this is going and I’ll need alcohol too. His hand shakes as he fills both to the rim.
“Yeah. Go on,” I prompt.
“There was this girl. At work. She would flirt with me. At first I thought she was like that with everyone, but then I realized it was just me. Oh God,” he stops his frantic explanation to take a drink, “long story short, we had sex. Just once. I swear to God, Pen, it only happened once. One time.”
I’m going to be sick. Cody repeats one time over and over as if makes some kind of difference. “Why, Cody? Why?” I check my phone and notice a reply from Finn, but I don't read it. There is nothing from Marissa. I would have expected to hear this from her first. The fact she hasn’t called me yet can’t be good.
“It happened once. One time, Pen. A year ago. A fucking year ago. I thought it was done with. It should have been over, but the girl… she took pictures. I didn’t know there were pictures. I was drunk, but I don’t remember pictures.” Cody takes another drink from his glass. “She’s been blackmailing me with threats to put them online or send them to Marissa. I paid her, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough money.” He stares at my wall, lost in thought.
