Authors: Bella Cruise
“You really haven’t changed a bit.”
“You either.” Jules looks me over. “Except you
finally got rid of that ratty old denim jacket and grew out your
bangs.”
“My bangs!” I groan. “Whoever told me those were a
good idea?”
“That would be me,” Jules winces. “Sorry, my bad.”
“You’re forgiven.”
I sit back and gesture for the cake platter. “Come on, don’t
hold out on me. Let’s see what ten years and your twisted
genius brain have whipped up.”
Jules holds it out with a flourish. “May I present to you, chai
cake with a cinnamon buttercream frosting; lemon bomb surprise, with
lemon curd filling and a raspberry coulis, and double chocolate
hangover cake. That’s my favorite,” she adds.
I take the chocolate, and bite into layers of fluffy cake and rich
frosting.
“Oh my god,” I mumble through my mouthful of pure heaven.
“This. Is. Ridic.”
“Totes.” Jules laughs. “You like it?”
“I love!” I devour the whole thing in three bites. “It’s
better than sex!”
“Well, that answers my next question.” Jules gives me a
wicked look, and scoops frosting up with her finger. “No Mr.
Austen on the scene to warm those lonely New York City nights?”
“Nope. Not even close.” I take another cake. “You?”
“No one special,” she shrugs. “Nobody worth
mentioning, anyway.”
“You know Wes is married now?” I grin, reminded of her
high school hook up. “And police chief.”
“I know!” she laughs. “They invited me to the
wedding. His wife is nice, she was a couple of years behind us in
school.” Jules pauses, and gives me a look.
I know her well enough to be able to figure this one out.
“Yes, I’ve seen Luke.”
“And what was that like?”
“And nothing. It was fine. He’s moved on, we both have.
Just two mature adults going their separate ways.” I avoid her
gaze, but best friendship is a two way street. Jules narrows her
eyes.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Nope. What’s this flavor in the frosting again?” I
try to change the subject.
“Cinnamon, and you’re not getting off the hook so easily.
Spill,” she demands.
Maybe it’s the wine, or the sugar rush, or the fact I’m
just so glad to be back with my old friend, but the wall of denial
I’ve been building comes crumbling down.
“He kissed me,” I admit.
“What?” Jules’s screech echoes halfway to Miami.
“Shh, it’s not that big a deal! OK, it was,” I
sigh, “A couple of weeks ago, my first night back in town. It
was epic, and hot, and made me question every single life choice I’ve
made since I was eighteen, but it meant nothing.”
“Right,” Jules smirks. “Because epic and hot is
nothing.”
“You know what I mean! It was… nostalgia. Old habits,
you know? Anyway, looked like he regretted it right away. He
hightailed out of there, and never looked back. I’ve seen him
around since then, but he’s acting like it never happened. Like
he couldn’t care less.”
“What about you?” Jules fixes me with a knowing look.
“How much could you care?”
I shrug. “It doesn’t make a difference either way. It’s
the past, remember? There’s no point in holding on to something
that’s long gone.”
“Because two weeks ago is such a long time.” Jules
smirks.
I roll my eyes. “You’re never going to shut up about it
now, are you?”
“Luke and Ginny, sitting in a tree,” she starts,
singsong.
I throw a cupcake at her.
“Hey! Easy on the goods, babe.” Jules catches it, and
then licks frosting off her hand. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” she
finishes with a grin.
I sigh, settling back in the lounge chair. “It wasn’t the
kissing that was the problem, it was everything that came next.”
“Love, and marriage, and the baby carriage?”
“Yup.” I shake my head. “We were babies ourselves
back then. God, I look at photos sometimes, and can’t believe
how young we all were. What were we doing, thinking we had life all
figured out?”
Jules smiles. “Remember that time you wanted to get your ears
pierced in eighth grade, only you didn’t want your aunts
knowing because they’d make a whole big deal?”
“Rae would have done them herself over the kitchen sink,”
I laugh.
“Right, so we got the genius idea of hitchhiking up to
Marathon—”
“
You
got the genius idea,” I interrupt.
“Details!” she waves a hand. “Anyway, we wound up
in that dodgy mall kiosk, with that guy—”
“The moustache guy!”
“With the little beady eyes. And he didn’t numb your skin
or anything, he just grabbed that big hole-punch machine.”
I wince at the thought. “No warning, nothing. Just bang, bang,
done. It hurt like hell! And he did them too close,” I reach up
to touch my plain gold studs.
“And then your aunts gave us the biggest lecture when we got
back. They convinced me you’d caught hepatitis or something. To
this day, I still quiz my tattoo guy about sterilizing his needles.”
I sit up. “You got a tattoo? What? Where?”
Jules twists around and pulls down the strap of her tank top,
revealing a tiny pair of lucky seven dice.
“Cute!”
“You mean trashy.” She smiles. “My mom flipped.
Even though I’m nearly thirty, she still treats me like I’m
a kid. Every time I go to visit, she lectures me about settling
down.”
“Mine are the opposite,” I laugh. “Rae wants me to
go have group orgies with some band in the back of a tour bus, the
way they did when they were young.”
“Your aunts are the best.” Jules takes another sip of
wine. “But things are good, with the business and New York? I
figure they must be, for you to be put in charge of a show like
this.”
“Fingers crossed. I thought it would be a big opportunity for
me, but now I think there’s just as much chance of the whole
thing going up in smoke.”
“Really?” Jules looks disappointed. “Call me a
sucker, but I thought Pixie and Clyde really were in love.”
“I did, too, but now I’m not so sure.” I pause.
“But I guess it’s hard to see much of anything with the
cameras in their faces all the time. I couldn’t live like that.
It’s crazy.”
“I can’t wait to see.”
“You’ll get a front row seat,” I promise. “Prepare
to have your entire life taken over by the production. They’ll
be elbow deep in cake batter before the end of the week, I’m
promising you.”
“Yeah baby,” she grins. “Bring it on! Rock-n-Roll
cakes is going to milk that publicity for all it’s worth.
They’ll be lining up around the block to taste my special
wedding line. What do you think about Pixie’s sweet strawberry
cupcakes, and Clyde’s rock star bourbon cream?”
“I think you and Marcie are going to get along just fine.”
I laugh, and hold out my empty glass. “Time for a refill!”
We hang out on the roof until sunset, catching up and reminiscing
about old times. Jules orders in Thai food, and the hours fly by in a
warm glow of nostalgia and friendship. It feels so good to be back
together again. It’s like we’ve barely skipped a beat.
“I’ll let you know when we need to film,” I
promise, as she sees me off with a massive box of cakes. “But
you should come up and visit sooner, see the madness for yourself.”
“I can’t wait,” Jules hugs me. “And you keep
me in the loop about what’s happening up there. If Luke Porter
so much as looks in your direction, I want to know.”
“The looking I can cope with.” I give a wry smile. “It’s
when he touches me that there’s trouble.”
“Drama, drama, drama,” she beams. “Oh, to be
seventeen all over again.”
“No thanks,” I laugh, getting into my car. “Give me
age and wisdom any day!”
I make my way back through Key West and onto the highway again, but
as I drive over the dark ocean causeway, I wonder if that’s
really true. Sure, I feel settled now, at ease with myself in a way I
never did when I was younger, but I’m missing something too:
that reckless curiosity that would see me take off hitchhiking with
Jules when we were too young to know any better, or break curfew with
Luke in the backseat of his car, steaming up the windows. Everything
felt more vivid back then, discovering life and love for the first
time. Now, I feel like I play it safe, watching my step and weighing
my options, because I know there are real consequences to my actions.
Back then, I leapt without thinking twice, and although I look back
on it now with amazement, there’s still something to envy in
that sense of freedom and possibility that only comes from youth.
The miles slip by, but I’m about twenty miles south of Pelican
Key Cove, driving through swampland and marshes, when my engine
starts making a weird rattling noise.
“No, no, don’t quit on me now,” I plead, slowing
down. “Just a little further, we’re almost there.”
But my old car doesn’t care about getting me home. After
another few hundred feet, the rattles turn to a wheezing choke, and
then finally, it goes ahead and quits on me. I manage to pull over
off the side of the road before it lets out a spurt of steam and
falls silent. Dead.
“Come on!”
It’s almost midnight now, and the road is totally empty. I grab
my phone to call for help, but I’ve only got two percent
battery life. I check my bag, looking for my spare charger, but then
I remember: I loaned it to Theo this morning before I left.
Crap.
I don’t know if I’ve got enough juice to look up a tow
truck number and make the call, so I text my aunts instead.
‘
Car broke down. On Overseas Highway just outside Duck Key.
Send a tow pls!”
My phone barely manages to send it before the screen goes dark.
Silence.
I look around. I’m in swampland here, with no buildings or
lights visible for miles around. The air is sticky and humid, and all
I can hear are the crickets, and the distant sound of the ocean.
Except…
I squint as headlights come into view on the road ahead. Yes! I
quickly scramble out of the car, and wave my arms for help at the
side of the road. “Over here!” I call.
The car speeds past, not even slowing for a second.
“Gee, thanks!” I call after it, sinking back against my
car door.
I guess there’s nothing left to do but wait.
After a half hour out by the side of the road, I’ve seen ten
cars, two trucks, and a couple of Harleys zooming past, but none of
them so much as gave me a second look before leaving me in the dust.
So much for small town hospitality. It’s getting even later,
and the mosquitos are flying thick. I’m starting to wonder if
my aunts got my message. For all I know, they could be in bed fast
asleep by now, or – more likely – too wrapped up in their
art projects to notice their phones buzzing on the table. And didn’t
I hear Rae saying she didn’t want cell phones in the house
anymore, on account of their negative energies? I groan. At this
rate, I’ll have to walk all the way back to make it home before
dawn.
Finally, just as I’m about ready to grab my purse and start
hiking, I see another set of headlights, coming from the direction of
Pelican Key Cove.
“Over here!” I try waving again, as – glory be! –
the vehicle slows down and eases off the main road to park in front
of my car. It’s Jimmy’s tow truck, muddy and weathered,
but to me, it’s like a golden chariot come to save me from
death by mosquito bite.
“Thank God you’re here!” I exclaim, hurrying up to
the front of the truck. “I wasn’t sure they got my
message, and—”
I stop as Jimmy climbs down from the cab. Except it’s not
balding, overweight Jimmy in front of me: it’s Luke.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, dumbfounded.
He grins. “Now, that’s no way to speak to your night in
shining armor. So, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into
this time?”
Never mind shining armor, this knight is looking pretty fine in worn
out jeans and a casual shirt. For a moment, it feels like my
conversation with Jules has conjured him up out of thin air. Then
Luke explains. “I was having a drink at the bar when your aunts
called Jimmy. He’d had a couple too many, so I volunteered to
come get you.”
“Thanks,” I stammer, still thrown. “I’m
sorry you had to come out of your way.”
He shrugs. “It’s not far. Where were you coming from?
Partying with your Hollywood folks down in Key West?”
I snort. “Not so much. Marcie has everyone on an early-morning
call time. I was out scoping bakers for our wedding cake.”
“Oh, you must have dropped by Jules’s place, then,”
Luke says as he walks over to my car.
“Yes.” I’m thrown. “You know about her
shop?”
“Sure,” he says. “It’s a small world. I see
her around sometimes. We all pretty much kept in touch after high
school.”
Everyone except me.
“Anyway, she’s going to join the madness and bake a cake
for the wedding,” I babble, feeling nervous. “We got
talking, and I didn’t notice how late it got.”
“You girls could always gab,” he remarks, rueful. “I
must have spent hours waiting around for you two to get finished up
your gossip.”
“Why is it that when guys sit around talking it’s having
a real conversation, but whenever women get together it’s just
gossip?”
Luke grins. “Because we men talk of worldly things.”
“Sure, like football scores and beer,” I shoot back.
“We don’t talk about beer, we drink it,” he
corrects me. “But do you want to stand around arguing your
point, or should I go ahead and see what’s got you stranded out
here?”
“Right.” I flush, standing aside. “Thank you.”
“Well, it looks like your engine’s blown a gasket,”
Luke says, after he yanks up the hood and shines a flashlight around.
“I’m betting Jimmy’s got a replacement back at the
shop, but the best I can do for now is a tow.”