Take the Cake (16 page)

Betty regarded Wren for a moment, and then gave a dry chuckle. “Oh, the things you young ones come out with. No wonder you’re all screwed up.”

“Huh?” Wren stood and watched as Betty rolled up a magazine, and then flinched as the older woman swatted her firmly across the head with it. “Fuck, Betty, what was that for?” Wren yelped as she jumped back a pace. The old woman laughed until she was overcome with a coughing fit. All Wren could do was stand and wait for her to recover.

“Oh, God, that was good, the look on your face,” Betty wheezed.

Wren waited, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh at the woman’s mirth, even though it had been entirely at her expense.

“You kids can be real dumb shits. Living the dream, chasing your dreams,
bah
,” she said in a dismissive tone. “Honey, you’re never going to find a damn thing if you think there’s always something better ahead.”

“Is that what you did?” Wren asked, leaning in again after making sure Betty had put the magazine away.

“Hell, no,” Betty went on with a twinkle. “I was going to be an artist, but I figure it’s never too late to pass on a bit of wisdom once you get as far down the track as I have.”

“An artist, huh? What happened?”

“I met Earl, we got married, and I got knocked up is what happened,” Betty said, reaching over to take some bills from another customer.

“Any regrets?”

Betty shrugged. “Can’t miss what you’ve never had, and Earl and I have certainly had some times.” She gave the kind of reminiscent smile that Wren could see hinted at a youth that had seen its share of fun. “You just have to make the best of what you’ve got and grab opportunities when you can.”

“Gotcha.”

“And then when you get to my age and the kids have moved out, you go enroll yourself in an art class.”

“You have?” Wren replied, charmed. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Let’s just say I’m enjoying it more these days than I would’ve in the fifties.” Betty leaned forward. “They got
nude
models at the community college these days,” she said in a loud whisper.

“Betty,” Wren said, laughing, “you’re a dirty old woman.”

“Hey, I can dream, and some of those men are
fine
. But like I tell Earl, those boys would be wasted on me. It’d take me all night to do what I used to do all night.” She flicked a second packet of gum at Wren. “Now go on, you get, and have a good day. I’ve got a business to run.”

“Yes’m,” Wren said, leaning over to kiss the old woman’s powdery cheek. “You have a good weekend.”

“You have a good one too, Wren, and whatever or whoever you’re up to, get some for me while you’re at it.”

Wren walked away laughing, wondering if she’d be as free with her words at Betty’s age. She hoped so.

~~~

“Morning, boss,” Wren called, waiting as always.

“Wren, don’t call me boss.”

“Sorry, boss.” Wren gave her an unrepentant grin, popping her gum and standing back as Kate unlocked the security door and rolled it up. “So, tonight’s the night, huh?”

“Yeah, thanks, Wren. It’s good that you’re not trying to make me nervous or anything,” Kate said, standing aside to let Wren in.

“No problem.”

“I’ll do the coffee. You put some music on,” Kate instructed as she got out a couple of cups.

“Gotcha.”

“And—” Kate pointed an admonishing finger, “—no Barry White.”

Wren pouted, but sifted through the discs, and soon the lilting sounds of Lily Allen filled the store. Emily arrived, and the three of them got ready to start the day.

“Got a quote yet, girl?” Kate asked as she leaned against the kitchen doorway.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Wren replied, tossing the stub of chalk from hand to hand. She picked up the chalkboard and wrote, a slight smile on her face, then turned and showed it to Kate and Emily.

I’m not going to follow my dreams;
I’m just going to find out where they’re going
and hook up with them later.

“Very zen.” Emily nodded.

Kate gave Wren a quizzical look. “I’ll say. What happened to Little Miss Plan?”

Wren gave a happy shrug. “Meh, just a thought. We’ll see how long it lasts.”

~~~

Michael jogged around the park, thinking about Kate and seeing words everywhere: carved into stonework around the park, describing statues, sprayed on fences. Amazing that he hadn’t noticed them before now. He was going to be seeing her tonight. He picked up his pace, jogging faster as he tried to speed up the day.

He paused at a water fountain to catch his breath and stood stretching his calves, then checked his watch. It was earlier than he’d thought. He sighed and looked around the park. He had a whole day to kill. Maybe he’d jog a bit more. He managed three quarters of another circuit before slowing to a walk, pleased to see that his fitness was improving.

Stopping to grab a newspaper on his way home, he flicked through to the music section as he walked and grinned when he realized he was reading some of David’s work. Not for much longer, though, he realized as he thought back to the night before.

An exuberant David had phoned him, crowing with success and demanding celebratory drinks. Michael had been only too happy to toast the future success of David as he re-entered academia as “Associate Professor Watson.” The night had wound its way on as the two men laughed and celebrated David’s new career. By the time Michael had gotten home, there was a definite stagger in his step, and he had drifted off to sleep thinking of brown eyes.

Now he shook his head with a grin, tucking the newspaper under his arm as he thought about the previous night. He wanted breakfast, and then maybe he’d do some more writing. It looked like it was going to be a nice day. For a moment he was tempted to spend it outdoors, but more words were whispering. He’d do some work first and then see how things went. He enjoyed a hasty breakfast after he showered and changed, and then sat down in front of his computer. He started typing slowly at first, and as the speeding of his typing increased, the outside world began to recede.

Hours later Michael looked at his watch again and shook his head. Two hours to go. He paced the length of the apartment, picking up the occasional book off a shelf and giving it a cursory glance before discarding it. He felt nervous, which he told himself was ridiculous. He and Kate had been getting to know each other for a while now, so there was no reason why this evening should feel any different; except this wasn’t just bumping into her or walking her home after work. This was a date and somehow that made it entirely different. Now that he realized how anxious he was feeling, he was glad he hadn’t confided in David. He didn’t think he could have handled the teasing.

~~~

“Are you looking forward to it?” Wren asked as Kate slide a tray of cupcakes into the display cabinet. “Of course, you are,” she said as Kate shot her a look of amused exasperation. “Have you thought about what you’re going to wear?”

“Well …” Kate slid the cabinet door shut and leaned against it. “I figured I’d start with clothes and take it from there.”

Wren sighed. “You really don’t care what you wear, do you?”

“Of course I do, but the whole evening isn’t going to depend on what I’m wearing.” Kate snorted.

“I know that,” Wren said, “but it can certainly help. Just tell me you’ll be wearing good underwear.” This was said with a hopeful expression as Wren slid a coffee toward a startled customer with a broad smile.

Kate gave a startled whoop of laughter. “Wren! I’m not putting out on the first date.”

“I wasn’t saying you had to,” Wren replied, “but feeling totally hot inside and out can do wonders for a girl’s confidence.”

“Duly noted,” Kate said, flipping a quick salute before turning as some more customers approached. It looked like it was going to be a busy day.

At last Kate departed the bakery that afternoon under a chorus of catcalls from Wren and Emily. The pair remained unrepentant even after Kate had fired back a volley of empty threats to fire them both. She glanced at her watch and seeing that she had two hours before meeting Michael, decided to spring for a cab. The cab would cost her a few dollars but she knew there was one thing she wanted to do before all else: Sleep.

Letting herself into the apartment, Kate headed for the bedroom, and after a quick bathroom stop, stripped down to her underwear and crawled onto the bed. She set the alarm on her cell phone and curled up under the coverlet for a quick half hour nap. She had no idea how late the evening would be and wanted to be as fresh as possible. Yawning, she closed her eyes and had just enough time to wonder if she would be able to get any sleep before going under.

~~~

After her nap, Kate had taken her time getting ready. Light makeup, loose hair, and one of Wren’s creations. It was a simple halter-neck dress that fell in a graceful empire line with the hem brushing her ankles. Flat sandals completed the look. The last thing she wanted after a day on her feet was a pair of heels, and in her mind’s eye, she could all but see Wren sighing and shaking her head. She looked at the time and realized Michael would be there any minute. A thought struck her: maybe he was as nervous as she was. On impulse, she walked toward the front window and peered down toward the street, smiling when she saw Michael pacing. He was there already. She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

Michael looked up as he heard the front door open, and then Kate appeared. He gazed at her as she made her way down the front steps toward him.

“Hi,” she said in a soft voice.

“Hi,” he answered. “You’re beautiful.” Without thinking, he raised a finger to trail it across her suddenly warm face.

“So are you,” Kate replied. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but damn it, he
was
. Emily had been right. God
did
love her work.

He stepped closer and reached out, cupping a hand in the small of her back to draw her close as he dusted a kiss against her lips. She swayed against him for a moment as their mouths met again and again. In the quiet moment of sweetness, Michael did what he had wanted to do for a long time and reached up to cradle the nape of her neck, turning her head slightly to kiss her eyelids and then the side of her throat. When he drew away, Kate’s eyes stayed closed for a moment, before they fluttered open to regard him with a soft smile.

He slid his hand down her arm to twine his fingers with hers. “Shall we?”

He took her to a small restaurant called Resto on 29th Street, and they were shown to a quiet table for two. Michael seated Kate with old fashioned courtesy, and then ordered a bottle of wine after checking what she liked. Two glasses were poured, and they settled into their evening.

“So this is …” He paused.

“Good, but kinda weird?” Kate completed, making him laugh.

“Something like that,” he admitted. “I might have worded it differently.”

“Of course.” Kate inclined her head. “You’re the writer, after all.”

“Now and then,” he admitted with a smile, touching his wine glass to hers for a quiet toast.

Kate paused to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and curled her hand around the stem of her wine glass to curb the sudden impulse to reach out and trail her finger down the column of his throat. He put his glass down, and she realized she had been caught staring, so she sipped at her wine to cover herself. It was good.

Michael watched the play of light over the wine in Kate’s glass and against her hair. He wanted to twine the long, dark blond strands around his fingers and pull her face toward his.

They both looked up as the waiter appeared with the menus, and the quiet mood was broken as they chose their meals, then they were left alone again.

Michael reached out and took Kate’s hand. “I don’t know about you, but maybe if we keep close, we can get through the jitters.”

Kate laughed and gave his hand a squeeze, fluttering her fingers over his wrist, feeling his pulse beneath her fingertips. He was right. The warmth of his hand over hers made her feel better already.

“It’s going to make it hard when our meals arrive,” she commented.

“True, but there’s always footsies,” he agreed, grinning in delight as she laughed again.

Like almost every other time, they fell into an easy conversation. Their meals arrived and were enjoyed, then the table was cleared, and still they kept talking. Michael soaked it all up, a wellspring of words and worlds between them to explore. Kate encouraged him to talk about his writing career, and although he wasn’t ready to reveal everything just yet, he found that he was willing to share details with her that he had rarely shared with anyone else. He wanted to get to know her better. He wanted her to get to know him.

“It must be amazing, creating whole new worlds and taking people on an adventure of your own making,” she commented.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “When it’s all working, it’s an amazing rush. Other times, not so much.”

“Do you get pleasure out of the process?” Kate cocked her head and regarded him, running her fingers in small circles over the back of his hand. It was a soothing gesture that relaxed him even more, and the coil of words inside his chest loosened further.

“I’m not sure,” he replied after considering it for a moment. “It used to feel like a …” He tried to find the words. Kate waited, and the words came to him. “It used to be like a compulsion, and it was as if writing was what sustained me for the better part of a decade.” Michael frowned to himself, trying to articulate the situation. “I guess,” he ventured after a while, “once the writer’s block kicked in, I realized that I didn’t have much of a life outside of writing.”

“No life?” Kate asked. “Surely you must have had something else besides your writing. What about dating? Relationships?”

Michael looked amused. “I’ve had a few,” he allowed. “Although occasionally they complained that my writing was always the third wheel and they didn’t like competing.”

“Were you writing about them at the time?”

“No, I wasn’t, although I’m not sure if that was the factor working for or against me at the time.” He glanced down at Kate who was looking thoughtful. “What about you?”