How The Cookie Crumbles (34 page)

That was something I’d been wondering about myself; we hadn’t really discussed anything, but given everything that happened between us, we were certainly headed in the right direction. However, since my overreaction with Matt, I was trying to be cooler. “Well, I’m not assuming anything. If we get together again, great; I’ll play it by ear.”

Bianca pinched my cheek, and I yelped. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I had to check to make sure it was you and not some alien. Because I’m pretty sure that the Master Planner had never played anything by ear in her life.”

“Maybe I’m getting to be more like Jake, you know, relaxed.”

Bianca looked at me suspiciously and waited.

“Okay, well… we haven’t said we’re going out, but there’s certainly a future for us. I’m applying for this museum internship in L.A. and if I get it, Jake invited me to live with them. Isn’t that great? I feel like I underestimated him for so long.”

“What are you talking about? How can you leave during fourth year? What about graduating?”

“Well, I figured it all out on the plane ride home. I already have extra credits through my regular coursework, my intercession courses, and I’ll get some for the internship. If I attend intercession this summer, I can complete my degree in time for fall convocation. I think that having some actual work experience will help me to better determine what I want to do after undergrad.”

“That sounds more like the Frankie Taylor we know and fear. So, you’d be leaving us again?”

“Well, if I got it, I’d go in January. But don’t worry, my chances are not great. I mean, it’s the LACMA! What are the chances that some little Canadian art history student is going to get in?” I didn’t mention that Beatrice had offered to fast-track my application, because I was trying to keep from getting over-excited.

“But living with Jake, isn’t that a little premature?”

“Probably, but what can we do? His life is so busy, and while I’m at school, it’s pretty difficult to have a normal relationship. Anyway, we’re not living together, I’m only going to stay with him temporarily.”

“A fine distinction, Frankie.” Bianca didn’t look quite happy though. “But really, you haven’t gone out that long.”

“I shouldn’t even be discussing this with you yet since it probably won’t happen, but it’s all I’ve been thinking about. Don’t worry about anything, I’ll keep paying my rent since I’ll only be gone three months, and I’ll be back for spring classes.”

“It’s not about the rent, I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Bianca said softly.

I smiled at her, “Bee, don’t worry, Jake’s a good guy. We have such fun together; I don’t think I’ve laughed so much with anyone before. I know it seems sudden, but we did hang out all summer, and we do know each other.”

“But you weren’t dating all summer. It’s not a rebound after Matt, is it?”

I thought about this, “No. I was over Matt before I even went out with Liam. Anyway, don’t worry; everything is hypothetical right now. We’ll see what happens.”

I already knew that Jake was not very good at staying in touch; he was great when you were right in front of him but out of sight, out of mind. Still I thought I’d get more than a few texts from him after everything that happened. But I was busy too: I got my LACMA application in right away, I had lots of schoolwork, and I was getting caught up with all my friends. Socially, I felt like I was in a no-man’s-land where I wasn’t really going out with Jake, but I wasn’t interested in dating other people.

Still, there were parties and get-togethers, and I even had a little dinner party. I kept up with the Kings online, reading all the box scores so I could see what kind of game Jake had. I didn’t watch his games since we didn’t get Kings games on our cable package, and I found it too frustrating to watch tiny games on my laptop. But Bianca kept up with all the NHL news. One Monday night, she came into my room and told me that Jake was injured.

“Really? Is he badly injured?”

“Hockey teams are so vague. They’re just saying an upper body injury. But he left the game, and they don’t usually leave unless it’s really serious.”

I knew that already: hockey players prided themselves on being tough and playing through the pain. Missing teeth and stitches were not enough to keep you out of the game. I sighed. “Oh no! I really hope he’s okay.”

“You really like him, don’t you, Frankie?” Bianca sat down on my bed.

I nodded. “It’s the dumbest thing. All summer long, I truly wasn’t interested, but once I really got to know him….”

“Okay, I’ll see if I can find out what’s wrong with him.”

Both Bianca and I checked online but even in the morning, there wasn’t any additional information. I didn’t know exactly what to do; I had texted Jake and called him, and not gotten any answer back. So I did what I always do when I’m stressed: I started baking.

“Frankie! I’m not going to fit into my jeans if you keep this up,” moaned Lauren, as I took a batch of banana chocolate chip muffins out of the over. It was three days later, Jake hadn’t been back on the ice and I still hadn’t heard from him.

“Maybe you can channel these calories for good instead of evil,” declared Bianca. “Why don’t you bake a get-well care package for him?”

That was a good idea. I had a recipe for rich brownies with almost no flour in them, so with time they got more chocolaty instead of stale, which were perfect for mailing. I made a batch and sent them with a get-well card. Then I tried not to think about him anymore. I had tried to get in touch and failed. Unfortunately I was already way ahead on all my readings. I seemed to have too much time on my hands to worry and wonder.

Jake

My mom flew out to L.A. as soon as she heard I had a serious injury, even though I told her we didn’t have any definite test results yet. It was good to have her there because the team left on a road trip the day after I got hurt, so I was home alone and totally bored. I had headaches, I was tired, and I wasn’t supposed to do anything. No exercise, no video games, no television, no texting. Nothing.

I spent most of the day lying down in my darkened room, and she went out grocery shopping and then started cooking up my favourite meals. That was nice, but her decision that our house could use a major cleaning wasn’t as nice. The vacuuming was too noisy and hurt my head, and I told her so. Then she resorted to quietly dusting and sweeping, that noise bugged me too but I felt guilty complaining. I was totally frustrated, I told everyone I felt okay, but they insisted on treating me like some lame patient.

Friday I was sprawled on the living room couch, having lunch. My mom was sitting across from me, and suddenly she tilted her head.

“There’s a lot of stuff under your couch!” She got down on the floor and started pulling things out. Diet Coke cans, socks, a pizza box (luckily empty) and a magazine.

“Are you and Luke reading Vogue magazine these days?” my mother asked, holding it up like a dead fish.

“No, that’s Frankie’s,” I responded automatically. I figured it must have gotten swept under there when we were fooling around in the living room, and that made me smile a little.

“Frankie, the girl from the summer? She was here?” My mom’s voice rose an octave. Not only did that hurt my head, but shit, I wasn’t in any shape to deal with this issue.

“Uh yeah. No big deal.” I paused, but by the look on my mom’s face this was a big deal. “Look, I have a headache, and I’m going to lie down now.” Then I escaped.

My cell rang and I took a look. Jake! Finally.

“Hi Jake! Are you okay?”

A woman’s voice answered me, “Sorry, Frankie, it’s not Jake. It’s Sandy, his mom.”

“Oh, hi Sandy, how are you?” This was a little weird.

“Fine, thank you. I’m here visiting Jake. Well, looking after him really.”

“And how is he?”

“Well, he keeps saying that he’s okay, but he’s not. And he’s not supposed to drive or do any physical activity, just rest. The team has doctors keeping an eye on him. They haven’t confirmed it publicly yet, but it’s a concussion.”

I knew that was bad. Concussions were so unpredictable. The Canucks had a player who was out with a concussion for seven months. “Oh dear. I hope it’s not a bad one.”

“It’s difficult to know. He didn’t lose consciousness, so that’s good. But he’s certainly not himself.”

I sighed. Poor Jake, it sounded quite serious.

“Look Frankie, I know it’s very odd for me to be calling you, but I have to go back to work on Monday, so I’m leaving here on Sunday night. The team is away on a road trip, and Jake is all alone here….”

“Um….” I stammered. I was a little hesitant to jump right in and offer to help. If he needed me, of course I wanted to help. However, I did have school, and I had hardly heard from Jake even before the concussion. But obviously he was badly hurt; after all, what was his mom doing with his phone, which was usually attached to him?

“Frankie dear, Jake doesn’t tell me anything about his personal life, maybe that’s better, even if I’d like to know. Anyway, I know that you two are friends. Perhaps it’s asking a lot, but is there any chance you could come down and stay with him for a few days and look after him? I know you can cook, and you can drive, right?”

“Yessss.” I could drive, but in Los Angeles? Yikes.

“Oh, that’s so nice of you! You’re such a sweet girl, and I would feel so much better knowing that Jake wasn’t here all by himself. He’s a people person and he gets lonely. Luke will be back Thursday night. Plus he needs to go to the doctor, and I know he’ll try to drive himself if there’s no one here.”

Wait, what? I had said yes to the driving question, not to coming to L.A.! I had a paper due next week and a ton of other things! But I could work there, and I really wanted to see Jake again. Before I knew it, Sandy had made flight arrangements. By Sunday, I was back in Jake’s townhouse. I knocked lightly on his bedroom door and walked in with a sunny smile, only to be greeted by a horrible scowl.

“You know, you didn’t have to come and look after me, I’m fine!”

Jake was pretty indignant for someone who was still in bed at one o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. I guess I had assumed that he would be happy to see me, but clearly his concussion had turned him into Oscar the Grouch.

“Why don’t you try telling your mom that?” I hissed back at him. Sandy was in the kitchen making a late lunch. She had picked me up at the airport, and was getting ready to hand over the nursing duties before her flight that evening. She had been so happy to see me that the contrast with Jake’s pissed-off greeting was startling. “It’s not like I volunteered for this gig, she made me come. But actually, you do look fine.”

I guess it wasn’t like a broken leg; if your brain gets injured, it’s not like you’re suddenly all forehead or your eyes are lopsided. Or more lopsided. He looked normal, but tired. Although apparently he hadn’t shaved since the injury, so he looked a little street person-y. And his appearance wasn’t improved by the fact that he was scowling at me. I left and went to the bedroom where Sandy had diplomatically put my suitcase. It used to be Ryan’s room, but now it was a neutral guest room, where Sandy’s small suitcase sat next to my large one. I brushed my hair and took a deep breath. Yes, he was being a jerk, but he was sick, so he got a pass.

Sandy was making soup and sandwiches. The sandwiches looked really good, with yummy fillings in them.

“Jake’s not really that happy to see me,” I reported. I didn’t want Sandy to think that everything was okay when it wasn’t. If Jake threw me out after she left, I wasn’t fighting with him about it.

“Was he rude? I’m sorry, that’s so unlike him. It’s so hard, seeing him like this.” Sandy frowned and wrinkled up her forehead. “He was always my sweet baby, so good-natured. And now he’s all mean and grouchy; it’s like the concussion changed his personality.”

“It’s okay, I know that Jake’s a nice guy,” I reassured her because she looked really upset.

“I know, I know.” She smiled and looked at me. “I’ve just been so worried these past days, what if he’s permanently changed? I worry way too much. My husband and kids always laugh at me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Jake.” What? Did I just say that? Sandy was so worried that I felt I had to comfort her in some way.