How The Cookie Crumbles (57 page)

I tore off my clothes, threw them on the floor, and got into bed with her. I kissed her on the neck, reached around and started feeling her up.

“Wake up, Frankie!” I whispered in her ear.

She turned away from me. “Wanna sleep,” she murmured.

“Don’t you want to hear about my game? We won, so there’s going to be a game six here!” We flew straight home, and I was still wired. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep right away. Sex would be relaxing. I slid one hand down to pinch her nipple and started pulling up her nightie with the other. I ran my hand down her hip and then between her ass cheeks.

Now she was wide-awake. Frankie turned and looked up at me, “I watched your game, congratulations! You played great.”

“So, you want to celebrate?” I asked her.

“You are such a horn dog,” she complained, but she wrapped her body around me as she spoke.

“Yeah, but that’s what you like about me, right?”

Frankie came to game six and sat with the other girlfriends. The game was yet another total battle where they’d score and then we’d tie it up, three times in a row. In the end, our power play couldn’t get it done, and we went down in overtime. One thing that really sucked was that all the playoff games we won were on the road, and we never pulled one out for the fans at home. We saluted them at centre ice and then skated off into the long summer.

Totally fucking frustrating.

After I got out of the dressing room, I gave Frankie a hug, and then told her honestly, “Look, I just wanna go out with the guys tonight and get hammered. You can take the car home, and I’ll get a cab.”

She looked up at me, a little sadly, and nodded. “Okay,” was all she said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a good little boy,” I told her, pissed. I didn’t want her to make me feel guilty.

Frankie shook her head, “I didn’t say anything.” And then she left.

The sunshine was streaming in my bedroom when I woke up the next morning. Ah, California, the sunshine state, as opposed to the rain forest I grew up in. I was sleeping in my old bedroom. I usually slept here when Jake was on the road. If he was home or coming home that night, I slept in his giant bed. Last night I decided I didn’t want to be woken up by a drunken booty call, so I went back to my bed.

I got out of bed, stretched, pulled my silk robe on, and went to take a shower. I noticed that Luke’s door was closed, but Jake’s was wide open. Not wanting my morning noise to wake him up, I went to close the door and when I reached in I realized why the door was open.

Jake was not home.

I started showering on automatic. Feeling the pulsing water streaming on me was calming, and I tried to think logically. Really, the fact that he wasn’t home didn’t mean that he was sleeping with someone else. He could be crashing at a friend’s place. He could be passed out in some bar or hotel lobby. He could be hurt and at the hospital. Or he could be in jail.

You know you’re in trouble when you’re hoping your boyfriend is in jail. Really, none of that stuff was plausible. Luke was home. Why didn’t Jake come home with Luke? And if not Luke, he could have come home with another buddy, lots of his teammates lived around here and could have dropped him off, regardless of how out of it he was. I had to stop thinking about this; I didn’t want to imagine all the icky details.

I got out of the shower and started towel-drying my hair. I looked at my sober expression in the mirror, and realized the real problem was trust. I didn’t trust Jake 100%. Probably that was my own fault: I laid down the ultimatum, and then he had started going out with me. That wasn’t exactly the same as Jake begging me to be his one and only.

Still, who could blame me for having trust issues? When we went out after games, girls came up and fawned over him. Or worse, occasionally girls seemed to know him already and acted way too familiar. Even at home I wasn’t safe, I was vacuuming under the sofa cushions and along with the loose change and mummified pizza crusts, I found enough jewellery to start its own QVC show.

That was the past though, and I had pushed it to the back of my mind and tried not to be jealous. But the worst part was Jake’s face: sometimes when he looked at other women, he was checking them out; he was interested. Because that’s the truth, you can’t be jealous unless the other person gives you a reason to feel that way. You could be dating the most beautiful man in the world, but if you knew he was committed to you, you wouldn’t worry.

We were good together. I knew that, and I think Jake thought so too. But what would the future be for us? I had to figure that out, because Jake had never planned anything in his life. It was up to me to decide what would be the best thing… for both of us.

Jake

When I finally got home, I passed out in bed for hours. It was the evening before I woke up and when I stumbled out of bed, Frankie and Domer were having dinner. I lurched into a chair at the table and put my head down on the table.

Frankie ignored me and kept talking to Domer.

“So, you’re going on vacation before you go home?”

“Uh yeah, me and my cousins are going to down to Mexico. I need a break to switch gears from the season.” Domer paused, “You okay, Jakester?”

I lifted my head, “I’ve been better.”

“Did you want dinner?” Frankie asked icily.

“Uh, no. Maybe something to drink?”

“Not booze?” she demanded, frowning.

“No. Like water.”

She got up and got me a glass of water and a glass of juice. I gulped them down, my throat was feeling parched. Frankie and Domer were both staring at me, and I figured I probably looked pretty bad.

“Well guys, I’m going out tonight,” Frankie announced, rising up from the table with her plate.

“Wuh… where?” I asked. I was still having a little trouble speaking.

“An artist’s talk at the MOCA,” she explained. I still didn’t know half the places she was talking about, but they were all art museums. She went off to get ready and a while later, there was a knock on the door. Some guy in a lime green shirt and tie was standing there.

“Hello there! I’m Franco, is Frankie ready?”

Frankie breezed by us in a sundress and left with only a brief goodbye. We could still hear the guy’s voice as they went down to his car.

“So, you’re dating the one that looks like an unmade bed, right? You’re going to have to explain that attraction to me. What about the other one, Chief Crazy Hot? He’s definitely a hunk.”

Domer started laughing his head off.

The next day, I was expecting Frankie to go off on me about staying out all night, but she never said a word. She was a little chilly, but she never got mad. After a couple of days, I felt relieved I wasn’t going to have to get in a big fight with her or anything like that. Maybe Frankie was getting more relaxed these days, which would be awesome.

Friday, I had to spend a lot of time at the dentist getting repairs on the two teeth that were chipped in half during the playoffs. Frankie drove me home, sat me in front of the TV, and then went off to make dinner. She put this disgusting-looking sludge in front of me.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Congee, it’s a Chinese breakfast porridge, with meat. The dentist said you’re only going to be able to eat soft foods for a couple of days.” She sat down beside me.

I tasted it and it was actually delicious. “Not bad,” I told her, and she nodded. She was eating an apple, and I watched her perfect teeth crunching into it and sighed. Not only did I want something crunchy, but I realized how sweet Frankie was being to me, and I felt guilty.

“Look Frankie, I’m sorry about the other night. I just needed to go out and let off some steam.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “But I wish you could tell me your problems and maybe feel better that way. So you wouldn’t have to go all crazy.”

Really? I thought chicks liked guys to be all strong and protective. Besides, I wasn’t really into all that whining after the fact. Shit happens, and you get over it. We had our exit interviews, and Coach Sherman was on me for a lot of the same things he talked about all season, plus about being ready to go in the preseason and maintaining my focus. He kept talking to me about commitment, but I felt like I was already pretty committed. After all, I was playing more minutes than anyone on the team, did that not prove something?

“So, I’m going back to Vancouver on Sunday,” Frankie began.

“Yeah, your classes are starting, right?”

“Yes.” She paused for a long time, and munched on her apple. “What are you going to do now, Jake?”

“Well, I’ll probably go back to Kingston. I mean, I’ve got stuff going on here, and I’ll be back and forth all summer, but right now I kind of feel like I’d like to get out of town.”

“You know Jake, the last two months together have been awesome, really fun and exciting.…”

I tried to smile at her, but my mouth was still sore. So I reached across and grabbed her hand. She smiled at me, but I felt nervous because she seemed to have a whole speech planned out.

“And I think this was all good. To show you that you can go out with someone and have a good time. And to show me, well, that we are good together, and I can relax and have a good time.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and then sat back. “But right now, I don’t think we’ve got what it takes to make it long term.”

What? Now she wanted to break up with me?

“Is this about the other night? I told you I was sorry. Can’t you cut me any slack? I’m trying, and I think it’s going pretty good. Sure I’m gonna mess up once in a while, but you knew that.”

She shook her head at me. “Relax, Jake. I’m not crucifying you for one slip-up. But I don’t think we can make things work right now.”

“Look, it’s the off season now and I’m free. We’ll have more time for each other.”

“I guess, I guess we could keep going out for the summer. But Jake, you have trouble being committed to me when we’re living in the same house. If we’re in different cities, it’ll be impossible.”

It was weird that both my coach and my girlfriend kept harping on the same topic: commitment. I felt upset that she wanted to break up, but I couldn’t deny I felt a little relieved too.

I frowned and looked over at her. “Frankie, y’know I’m really into you, but I’m trying to be honest. I really like being with you, but I’m not sure I’m totally ready for all this shit. I’m certainly not ready to be all serious, like settling down.”

She laughed and ruffled my hair. “I know that, I do know what you’re like.” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ve got a plan.”

Of course she did. “‘Kay, what is it?”

“Well, I’m going back to U.B.C. to finish up my courses. And then in July, we can do that driving holiday we talked about, up the Pacific Coast Highway.”

I nodded, sounded good so far. “Then you’ll come back to Kingston?”

“Well maybe, but I have stuff to do. In the fall, I’m going to Italy.”

“What?”

“It’s an idea I’ve had since last summer, when I heard about all the beautiful art in Italy. I looked into it, and there’s a place in Florence where I can do Masters level courses. And I’m a little bit Italian myself.” She had a faraway look, like she was already there. “It’s expensive, but I’ve got a little saved up and my parents are willing to help me out.” Frankie laughed and looked at me. “It’s partly because they think I’m too involved with you, and they want me to get some perspective. So that’s working out great.”

“I don’t get it, how do I fit into all this?” I asked her. Finally, I was willing to give things a try and now she was changing continents?

“You don’t.” But she smiled sweetly as she said this. “I’ll be gone a year, or possibly two, if all goes well. That gives us both time to go out with other people and grow up. Well, one of us needs to grow up anyway.” She giggled, and I pulled her into my lap.

“Don’t say that about yourself, Frankie. You can’t help being immature.”

“As if. Anyway, we can go our own ways, and if we still want to get together when I get back, we can give it a try. Or not. Maybe we’ll meet people we like better in the meantime. And I don’t expect you to keep in touch, I’ve already seen how you’re not very good at that. I’m trying hard to be as relaxed as you.”