Lying back, I wait, and as the minutes pass by, I can’t stop thinking what he might be doing with Cindy. Did he decide to go home with her because he didn’t want to come back and deal with me? Some of the foster parents chose to just ignore you, and for some reason their silence was worse than the ones that screamed at you.
I feel like I’m on a cloud. I open my eyes, and it takes me a minute to adjust to all the light in the room. The bright sun bounces off the white walls, making everything brighter than it should be. Sitting up, I look around to see where Vanilla is. Maybe he didn’t come home. The thought makes a lump form in my throat. Dragging myself from the world’s most comfortable bed, I make my way to the bathroom to handle my business. I’m not his mother. I can’t be upset he didn’t come home last night.
Then I notice the towel I left on the floor is gone. I rush to the closet, I slide the door open, and all his suits are back in order. A smile spreads across my face. Not because he put everything back the way it was, but because this means he came home. I wonder if he slept with me too. The idea of him sliding into bed with me sends a thrill through me. I was sure I was going to be woken up and told to move my ass to another room.
I search the rest of the penthouse for him with no luck, until I spot a note on the kitchen counter. Next to the note is some cash, a credit card, and a cell phone. Swiping my finger across the phone, I see the backdrop is a picture of a fairy. Odd. Pulling up the contacts, I see there are two numbers saved. Bray Cell & Bray Office.
I snatch up the note and see his perfect handwriting.
Be home around 7. I left some cash for you to pay for the motel, and a credit card for anything else you might need.
I’m disappointed at its simplicity. No ‘call me’ or a word about last night. His not acknowledging it bugs me.
I pick up the cash and count it out. Jesus, he left me a thousand dollars. Picking the phone back up, I hold my finger over Bray’s cell number. I want to call him, but I don’t want to seem needy or desperate or something. I hate how this is making me feel. Why am I like this with him? Shit. It’s nine thirty already. I’m going to be late to meet Sam.
Quickly grabbing my work pants and sneakers, I slide them on, and tuck one of Vanilla’s dress shirts into the pants. It’s all I’ve got, and will have to do until I make it back to the motel to grab my stuff.
It only takes me thirty minutes to make it across town using a cab with the cash Bray left me. I have the cabbie drop me off down the street from the motel so I can grab some donuts at the coffee shop nearby. When I finally make it to our room, I’m disappointed Sam isn’t here. Shit. I hope he got my message.
Dropping the donuts down on the bed, I pull out my new phone and call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. Double shit.
Heading to the bathroom, I start packing up my stuff. I guess I’ll just leave him a note. Then it dawns on me that I can text him.
Me: It’s Becs. Got a new phone.
Sam: Sorry I missed your call last night. Tried to call back but number came up unavailable.
Me: You coming home soon? Lots to talk about.
Sam: I’m busy. I got a job.
Me: Job?
Sam: Don’t worry about it.
Lovely—the kind of job he won’t talk about.
Me: Call me tonight?
Sam: Ya, going to Palm tonight. You should just come by. I’ll be there at 9. Miss your face.
Me: I’m working tonight.
Sam: I’ll call you or see you tonight. g2g.
Rolling my eyes, I slide the phone back into my pocket. He doesn’t need to go to the Palm. I think Nico’s family owns the place or something. He lets some of us sneak in the back because we aren’t old enough to get in. I stopped going because Nico would just stare at me. I used to have a blast there dancing all night, but it got weird after a while.
Grabbing the rest of my stuff, I phone for a cab before making my way to the front desk and paying for the next two weeks’ rent. I need to know that no matter what, Sam has a place to crash.
The rest of the day flies by. I loaded Bray’s fridge up with all kinds of different foods. I may have gone a little overboard at the store but I was just so excited about trying out some of the recipes I marked down last night. I found enough recipes to make dinner for the next five days.
Tonight I decided on crusted chicken with bacon and green bean casserole, and homemade mac and cheese. Then bread pudding for dessert. It’s a meal of comfort food and I know that’s something I could use right now. Setting the table, I bring all the food out at ten till seven, knowing he’ll be home any time like his note said. Vanilla doesn’t seem like someone who would be late for anything.
I went through and cleaned the penthouse the best I could, but there really wasn’t much to do. Besides the mess I made last night—that he already cleaned up—all I could really do was dust. I had extra time, so I unpacked all my stuff, though to be fair I don’t have much. I can’t wait to see his face when he sees I unpacked it in his room, closet, and bathroom. I even put my giant glittery Tinkerbell alarm clock on the side of the bed I slept on last night. He didn’t really give me any details as to what I should be doing. I know he said ‘dinners’, but if he wants me here full time, there has to be more he needs me to do.
When the clock hits ten after seven I decide to call him. I try his cell first, but after one ring it goes to voicemail. What is with everyone ignoring me when I call? Jesus. Next I try his office line. Maybe he got stuck working late.