Fantasyland 03 Fantastical (26 page)

“Uh…”

“And
who
was that sexy-voiced man who
answered the phone, at eleven thirty at night, I might add?”

Oh dear.

“Well –” I started.

“Damn, now
I’m
in a rush,” Mom cut me
off. “Your father is having car problems and he’s stuck out by the
bridge. You know, he won’t get rid of that dratted Volvo. I keep
telling him, it’s done. He has to let it go. He’s had it for
sixteen years! I keep telling he can buy a hybrid, they’re good for
the environment or, at least, not as bad as other cars. I mean,
does he want to be buried in that Volvo, for God’s sake?”

Dad and his Volvo. Why did discussing this,
again
(we’d discussed it, like, seven hundred thousand times
– Mom freaking hated that Volvo) also make me want to cry?

“So, now, I have to beg off but you’re
coming to dinner,” she carried on. “You’re doing it tomorrow night.
I don’t care what you have going on.
And
you’re bringing Mr.
Sexy Voice with you. I know my girl and
he
is why we aren’t
hearing from you. I’m so
pleased
you’ve moved on from Brian.
You know, your father and I always thought he was a bit of an
idiot. Then again, any man who wouldn’t hold onto my beautiful,
sweet, funny girl is an idiot.”

Oh man, totally going to cry.

“Plus,” she went on, “there is the small
fact Brian voted for Bush.”

“Mom –”

“Gotta go! Our house. Tomorrow. Six. With
your man. See you then! Love you, sweetie.”

Then she was gone.

I stared at the receiver then I hit the off
button. The instant I did, it rang in my hand and I jumped.

Bracing (because it could be anything), I
hit the on button and greeted hesitantly, “Hello?”

“Forgot to ask, sweetie, does your man not
eat anything? I mean, is he a vegetarian or something?” Mom
enquired.

Tor killed two Thumpers for our first dinner
together. The man was so
not
a vegetarian it wasn’t funny
and yet I burst out laughing. Probably hysterically.

Through my laughter, I said, “Uh, no Mom.
He’s definitely not a vegetarian.”

“Oh, okay, well, anything else he doesn’t
eat?”

I controlled my hilarity and started, “Mom,
I need to explain –”

“Explain tomorrow, over wine. Now I have to
know this
and
get your father. Is there something he doesn’t
eat?”

Shit.

“I think he eats everything, Mom.”

“Great! I’ll get inspired. Promise.
Later!”

Then, again she was gone.

I beeped the off button again.

Oh crap, did I just allow my mother to order
me and my other world man (who I hated) to dinner?

Shit!

Then I set about calling my friends. None of
them picked up. I didn’t think this was a good sign.

I left hesitant, “I really need to talk to
you, something’s happened,” voicemail messages and hoped.

After that, I took the trash out to the
dumpster, ran by the corner store to get staples and came back only
to see Tor standing in my living room wearing a very well-tailored
suit and looking around at the newly cleaned apartment.

What? Was he trying on clothes?

He turned and gave me a huge smile.

“Baby,” he growled, walked straight up to
me, hauled me into his arms and laid a wet one on me.

And I knew instantly it was not Tor because
whoever the hell
this
guy was, he kissed weird.

Which meant my body turned to stone.

He lifted his head and looked down at
me.

Yep, not Tor. I hadn’t noticed it but he
didn’t have a scar.

“Hey, princess, what’s goin’ on?” His eyes
travelled down to my chest then shot up to my face. “And what’s
with that ratty-assed sweatshirt?”

Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy
crap!

Cora had found this world’s Tor! Why? How?
Why?

“Uh… Tor?” I asked.

“What?” he asked back.

“Tor?” I tried again.

“What the fuck you talkin’ about, babe?”

Oh shit.

“Noctorno?” I tried yet again.

“That’s me, Cory, Noc, your man. What the
fuck? You okay?”

He called himself Noc?

Oh boy.

“Uh...”

“Checkin’ in,” he gave me a gentle shake,
his eyes scanning my face, they were alert as if he was looking for
something, “wonderin’ if we’re goin’ out tonight?”

“Out?”

“To the tables, babe.
Out.
”

The tables?

“What tables?”

He stared down at me. Then he dipped his
face close, “Shit, babe, you don’t look too good. What happened?
You got a headache or something?”

I latched onto that. “Yes, actually, yes. A
bad one.”

He looked at the door then down to my hands
carrying plastic bags then back at me. “Then what were doin’
outside?” he asked, letting me go, taking the bags and dumping them
on the dining room table saying, “You don’t feel good, you don’t go
outside. You call your man, I come and take care of you.” He came
back to me and his arms circled me again when he finished, “That’s
the gig.”

I stared up at him.

Wow. Cold, bitchy Cora had this guy wrapped
around her finger.

In
two months.

And Tor fell in love with her on sight.

How did she do that?

“Cora, baby, hello? You with me?” he
called.

“I’m, um… with you. Listen, what tables were
you talking about?”

His brows grew together. Then he answered
with a scary, “Poker.”

Poker?

The money in my TV cabinet.

Oh shit!

Cora, or this guy, was earning money,
lots of it
, playing
poker.

“Right, yes, right, poker tables.” I shook
my head. “Sorry, um… I’m kind of fuzzy. My head really hurt this
morning when I got up and now I’m feeling weird.”

“Shit, babe,” he muttered then his face was
in my neck, “that’s what happens when you sleep alone.” I felt his
lips on my neck and I shivered (not like Tor made me shiver,
another kind of shiver) at the same time I prayed Tor wouldn’t walk
in the door.

“No, actually, that’s what happens when…”
Damn! What did I say? Then I hit on it, the perfect excuse. “I get
my period.”

His head shot up. “What?”

“I’ve got my period.”

But I didn’t. In fact, I hadn’t had one
in…

My body turned to stone again.

Oh.

Shit!

“Babe, you had your period last week,” he
said suspiciously.

Fuck!

Clearly Cora of the other world and I didn’t
share the same cycles.

Or, damn and blast, maybe we did.

“Um…” I muttered, my mind awhirl, trying to
recall when I had my last period but knowing whenever it was, it
was in this world, not Tor’s.

Oh dear.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “It just… gets
like this. I’m, uh… irregular. It, um… sucks.”

“Sucks?”

“Yes, sucks.”

He studied me. Then he noted, “Cory, baby,
never heard you use that word before.” Uh-oh. “You speak proper,”
he went on and I stared up at him. Then he grinned and his voice
dropped low. “Why I like you. Thought you were an uppity bitch and
you are, cold as ice but with me…” He dipped his head and whispered
in my ear, “Wildcat.”

Cora was a wildcat for this guy?

Whoa.

I had to get it together and I had to play
this right. Until I could figure out what was going on in my life
and play him
out
of it that was.

And I also needed to go get a freaking
pregnancy test. Stat.

I wrapped my hand around his neck and
whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry, um… my love. I just, well… I’m
not myself.”

He lifted his head and looked at me. Then he
lifted his hand and cupped my cheek.

“Can I get you something?” he asked.

Damn, this guy was kind of sweet. How did
Cora latch onto him, seeing as she was such a bitch?

“No, love, just… I need to rest.”

“Fine, I’ll come by later and –”

“No!” I cried, his brows shot together and I
hurried on. “No, uh, my sweet, just… I need some alone time. I’m
not me. I just feel… not myself. Can you call me later?”

His eyes narrowed and he informed me, “This
is two nights you’ve wanted to be alone. Babe, my clothes are in
your closet. You get what that means?”

Did he live at my place?

He, luckily, went on, “I’m happy to give you
space, you need it, I got my own. But, you got issues, we need to
sort them out. You with me?”

Shoo. He had his own space. All was not
lost.

“I’m with you. And I don’t have any issues.”
Yeah, right. “It’s… um, I just don’t feel good, Noc. Can you give
me some time? When I feel better, everything will be okay.”

Fat chance of that.

His eyes moved over my face. Then he said
softly, “Yeah, baby, I can give you some time.”

Damn, he
was
sweet.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“You’ll call me, you need anything?”

I nodded and he smiled. It was nearly as
good as Tor’s.

“Give your man a kiss, yeah?”

Oh boy.

I nodded. Bit my lip, went up on my toes and
gave him a kiss. His mouth opened over mine and he gave me a
deeper, wetter one. I managed to return it which meant it
unfortunately got deeper, wetter and hotter leaving me thinking it
wasn’t weird, it was just different. In my opinion not as good as
Tor’s but also not bad by a long shot.

His lips left mine and when I opened my
eyes, I saw him quickly shutter the surprise in his.

Weird. What was that?

Then, after searching my face for a second,
he kissed my forehead.

Wow. That was sweet too.

Then he looked me in the eyes. “I’ll call
you later, babe.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Later, um… love.”

He grinned at me, gave me a squeeze, let me
go and walked out the door.

I collapsed on my sofa.

After I recuperated from Noc’s visit (while
staring at the TV cabinet like it would explode at any minute and
take me with it in its ball of flame), I made myself a fried
bologna sandwich with three pieces of bologna and a melted square
of American cheese on top. I toasted the bread and smothered it
with mustard. Then I made myself another one. Then I ate a quarter
bag of Cheetos. Then I popped a Diet Coke.

After sucking some back and stopping myself
from hyperventilating, I called work.

“The Arthur Broderick Agency, this is
Esther, can I help you?”

Oh crap.

Some chick named Esther answered my
extension.

“Um, Esther, is Mr. Arthur there?” I
asked.

“Can I tell him who’s calling?”

“Cora Goode,” I answered.

“One moment,” she replied, I waited,
listened to bad music and then, faster than I expected, Dave
Arthur, my boss, was on the phone.

“Cora?”

“Dave, hello, I –”

“Cora, thank God. Everyone’s been worried
sick about you!”

Thank God? Worried sick?

“Um…”

“You were no call, no show. You’re never no
call, no show. Hell, you’re never no show! Phoebe went to your
apartment, said it looked like a disaster hit it and your car was
gone.”

Phoebe, my best friend in and out of the
office (therefore she had a key to my apartment) came to my
place?

And my car was gone?

“For weeks, we’ve been phoning the police
and hospitals,” he continued.

Oh dear.

“Why didn’t you phone my folks?” I asked
stupidly because I should be thankful he didn’t. “They’re my
emergency contacts.”

“I couldn’t phone Dara and Forrest and worry
them if something wasn’t right with you,” he said, sounding aghast
and I was grateful that my Mom and Dad knew my boss and they had
formed a bond over multiple games of Apples to Apples. “Especially
when Phoebe went back, saw some big guy walking out of your
apartment, she says he looked like he was living there and when she
tried her key, it didn’t work. She thought you’d moved out or
something really bad had happened, like you got hooked up with this
dude and he was bad news. God, I’m so fucking glad you phoned and
sound all right.”

What?

“Dave, don’t you think you’d get a call if
something bad went down with me?” I asked stupid, stupid,
stupidly.

He paused. Then he asked, “Yeah, I would. So
where have you been?”

Stupid!

“Well, I’m calling to say…”
Shit!
“Something bad went down with me.”

“Oh my God! What? Are you okay?”

Seriously, this was why The Arthur Broderick
Agency weren’t doing all that great. Dave was awesome, he was a
creative mastermind when it came to advertising and he could charm
a snake but he was mostly a flake and Boyd Broderick wasn’t much
better. They were college roommates and they still wore beer bong
hats and got toasted in their offices frequently.

“I…” I started, my mind searching then I
came up with it, “got in an accident.”

“Holy shit! Were you hurt?”

“No, I mean, yes. I had a head injury.”

“Oh, Cora, I can’t believe it! That sucks! I
can’t believe Dara and Forrest didn’t phone. They went it alone.
That’s awful. We could have, I don’t know, sent a fruit basket or
something. Are you okay?”

“Um, well, I had amnesia for awhile so
obviously, uh… forgot where I worked…” Pure soap opera, was he
going to buy this shit? “And so, no… I’m still recovering and…” Was
I going to do this? Damn, I was. “I need a bit more time.”

“Whatever you need. We’ll activate the
extended sick leave policy for you. We had to, you know, stop your
pay. HR made us do it, swear. But we’ll reinstate it and get you
reimbursed for…”

“No,” I cut in, feeling like a cheat, “you
don’t have to do that.”

“Of course we do. You’ve been with us
frickin’ forever.”

God, that was nice.

“No, really, I have special insurance for,
you know, that kind of thing,” I lied and kept lying. “I’m good.
Totally okay. I just need another week. Maybe two. And then, um…
can I come back?”