“The mind makes the best decisions when it is otherwise occupied.Ice your treats and decide.I will beà l’étage, désolé, upstairs, in my office.Enjoy.”
Cujo took a sip of the dark, rich espresso.The past half hour had lightened his mood.Who knew cake tasting could do that?
Drea put a cupcake in front of him and handed him the brown icing.“You heard the lady,” she said, smiling.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”The plastic icing bag was squashy in his hands.
“You want me to do the whole Patrick SwayzeGhostthing?”Drea picked up the yellow icing, held the top with one hand, and used the other to squeeze the icing down toward the nozzle.
“The what?”
She looked over at him, eyebrows raised.“You know, when he sits behind Demi Moore at the potter’s wheel?”
“No fucking clue what you’re talking about.”It sounded like a total chick thing, whatever it was.Romantic shit really wasn’t his strong point.He never stayed in a relationship long enough for it to matter.
Drea squeezed the icing bag for what had to be a millisecond before pulling away, leaving behind the most perfect-looking tiny star on her cupcake.Well guess what?He was the artist, so no way was she going to beat him at cake decorating.He looked around the room for inspiration, his eyes searching for an idea.Then, he saw it.
Drea repeated her action, moving her cake in small movements until she had a ring of stars.Silent in her task, she had single pointed focus.He admired that.
Cujo picked up the brown icing, focused on the center of the cake, and squeezed the bag gently.The small dot of icing was exactly what he needed.He placed another next to it, then hunched over the cake.One dot after another.He used a knife to remove any dots that weren’t perfect.
His thoughts drifted back to his mom.Could he hold her responsible for something she didn’t remember?Wouldn’t life be easier if he could let go of the past until she recovered?What if she never regained those memories?Would he share his experience of it with her?Give her real understanding of what it was like to grow up thinking he was a mistake.That’s what he’d try to do when she was well enough.
He finished the brown dots on both of his cupcakes.“Can I take the yellow?”
Drea nodded.
Using the yellow icing, he drew narrow lines spreading outward from the brown dots in the center.Each stroke was slightly different.
He needed to talk to his dad, tell him what he heard that night, and ask if it really was his fault mom left.Not knowing was killing him inside.If it was true, he could learn to manage that pain.
He sat back and admired his work.Not bad for a first effort.And Madeleine was right.The mind did make better decisions when it was otherwise occupied.He felt a level of comfort he hadn’t been able to achieve at the gym despite busting his ass by simply decorating a fucking cupcake.Someone should take away his man-card because he sure as fuck didn’t deserve it right now.
“The chocolate s’mores cake,” he said, looking at Drea.
“Agreed,” she said quietly, her eyes studying him intently but not revealing what they found.
“I gotta go.Tell Madeleine, thanks,” he said, standing abruptly.He placed the two cupcakes on Drea’s board.
“Oh my God, those sunflowers are beautiful!How did you—”
He bent over and kissed the top of her head.“Bye, Shortcake.”It wasn’t so much running away as removing himself from temptation.Because somehow, Drea was giving him everything he needed.And in his opinion, he didn’t need that at all.
***
Mondays sucked.Well so did most every other day.But to Drea it signified the start of another week that would beexactlythe same as every one before.
She pulled a clean ‘José’s’ T-shirt over her head.Mom was up, breakfast was eaten, two loads of laundry were washed and hung in the yard, lunches were ready, and Drea needed to head out.
The phone sitting on the bedside table vibrated.
“Hello.”
“Andrea, it’s Gilliam.Do you have a moment?”
She sat on the chair next to her desk and pulled out a notepad and pen.“I do.And please, call me Drea.”
“The files you sent me were very interesting, Drea.I have been in touch with Sylvie, Mike’s wife.Mike’s itinerary was to visit his family in Athabasca, then drive up to Fort McMurray to meet with a new contact.”
