“Hey, I didn’t know you liked the Counting Crows,” I say from the backseat. My little legs are dangling from the bench.
“I don’t,” says my mother. “But I do know Joni Mitchell and she’s the Canadian icon who wrote and sang this song first.”
I didn’t believe her, she often exaggerated, but she knew every word of the song.
I smile at the memory, and a shiver runs through my body.
I slept most of the plane ride, but I’m amazed that it’s nearly the same time that I left New York. When I arrive in L.A. with the three-hour difference, it’s as though time stood still while I was in the air.
It’s still past ten o’clock when I finally arrive at Casey’s apartment. It’s cooler in Los Angeles than I expected. Since it’s already warm in New York, I thought it would be scorching hot here, but it’s dark and late so perhaps that has something to do with it. The taxi drops me off in front and I walk through the glass doors.
The building is ultra-modern with white granite countertops and marble floors. Even the concierge is wearing a suit and tie. “Excuse me, can you tell me which apartment is Casey Tucker’s?”
The security guard looks me up and down and I really wish I had changed out of my sandals for some high heels instead. I may have looked more like Casey’s type.
He checks something on his computer and turns back to me. “I’m sorry, but we do not have any guests marked down for Mr. Tucker this evening.”
“I know,” I say with my best smile, and flip my hair. “I’m here to surprise him.”
He smiles but then shoots me down. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s true. I’m a friend of his, and I want to surprise him.”
“I would suggest giving him a call and surprising him that way first. Then he can buzz you up.”
“Fine.” I sigh loudly. Even though he’s doing his job, the guard is making mine that much harder. I worry since Casey hasn’t been answering his phone to his family, he probably won’t answer my call either.
I punch in Casey’s number and look up to the ceiling, praying he’ll answer.
The phone rings six times, and hope starts to wane with each passing second.
I hang up and send him a text.
‘Hey, took a little trip and I ended up at your apartment, lol. Your security guard is acting weird and won’t buzz me up. Can you let him know that we’re cool?’
Surely, knowing that I’ve come all this way, he will ring me up. I stare at my phone waiting for his reply.
But there isn’t one. Not while I’m standing in the lobby, not when I sit down by the elevators. Not even when I walk back slowly to the front entrance. He hasn’t even read the message.
I look up the nearest hotel to Casey’s apartment and walk four blocks down the road to check in. I came to L.A. in such a whirlwind that I’ve forgotten a few important things. I’m so grateful that the hotel washroom has a toothbrush and toothpaste. I quickly brush my teeth, wash my face, and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
18
Sage
The next morning, my body aches as I stretch my muscles in bed. Rolling over, I check my phone. I have no missed calls, but a text from Charlotte and another from Jane.
I send a quick message to both saying that I haven’t spoken to Casey yet, but I’m safe at a hotel and will call right after I speak with him.
I’m not surprised that Casey hasn’t called or texted me back. Jane said as much before I left, but I can’t help feeling a bit miffed about it. I flew all the way here to see him.
I walk outside and I’m instantly cheered up by the sun warming my face and the palm trees lining the streets. Now that’s a sight I’ve never seen out east.
This is my first time in Los Angeles. Despite their hippie ways, my parents never felt drawn to come this way. They preferred the East Coast.
I consider taking a cab to Casey’s building, but it’s only four blocks away. Spotting a coffee shop down the street, I stop and grab some breakfast for us.
Every seat in the café is occupied, and no one is wearing a suit like I’d expected.
