Confessions From A Coffee Shop (17 page)

Once he had retreated behind the bar, I said, “All right, I spilled the beans. Now what about Lucy gets you all hot and bothered?”

“Everything,” she said in a breathy voice.

“Oh, come on! She must have some faults.”

“Yes! She has faults coming out the ying-yang, yet somehow I can never stop thinking about her. I feel like a teenage girl. Call me Bella Swan.”

“Who?” I felt my brow crinkle. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

“Oh my, you haven’t read
Twilight
?”

“The vampire book‌—‌the vampires who sparkle?” I was floored that Sam had read it, and that she even referenced it.

“Yes, that one. You have to read it. Promise me you will.” Her swollen eyes pleaded for me to agree.

“Okay, I promise. I have to admit it’s a better name for a love interest than Bathsheba Everdene?”

“Who’s named that? That name is hideous.” Her scrunched face conveyed her distaste.

“Oh my! You have to read Thomas Hardy’s
Far From the Madding Crowd
if you want me to read your sparkly vampire book.”

We raised our shot glasses. Neither of us looked very comfortable.

“You sure you want to?” Samantha’s eyes implored me to say no.

“Only if you do.”

She shrugged and tossed it back. I did too‌—‌reluctantly.

Chapter Nine

Hours later, I stumbled through my front door. Kat was sitting on the leather sofa, and so was my mother.

“Cori! Are you wasted?” Kat’s tone wasn’t pleasant.

“Um, I may be.” It was hard to suppress a nervous laugh, but I managed.

“I thought you were working on your novel today. What in the hell happened?” Kat raised one eyebrow. I think. I couldn’t actually see straight, but she always did that when she used that tone of voice. It punctuated her sternness.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to focus on her face. “A friend called and needed someone to talk to.”

I’m pretty sure she crossed her arms, but I couldn’t really tell.

“Let me guess. Sam?”

“Yeah. She got some bad news…‌about her family and she didn’t want to be alone.” I sounded like a babbling idiot and a liar. But I had promised I wouldn’t tell anyone Sam had been laid off. I was sworn to secrecy about the Lucy bit, as well.

“Kat, would you mind making my daughter a strong cup of coffee?” Mom’s voice was firm, bordering on commanding.

“Hi, Mom!” I waved. I knew it wasn’t the right response, but my brain wasn’t functioning fully. Actually, it felt as if it were swelling up in my head.

“Cori, why don’t you have a seat before you topple over?” She actually used her motherly tone, which was highly unusual. I wondered what was up. Normally, she would find this kind of thing hysterical, since it was so unlike me.

I could hear Kat making coffee in the kitchen. From the sound of it, she was throwing some stuff around.

I whispered, “She’s mad.”

Mom harrumphed.

“I think you’re mad too… mad as a hatter!” I broke into hysterical drunken laughter.

“Oh, Cori. I’m not mad. I’m shocked. Totally taken aback by this. Who’s Sam?”

I sensed she was nervous.

“Don’t you remember Sam? The hot cheerleader when I played ball in high school.” I tried to rest my shoe on the edge of the glass coffee table, but misjudged the distance and my foot crashed to the floor.

Mom grabbed my chin with her hand. “Cori, you need to shut up‌—‌now. One more word like that, and I won’t be able to protect you from Kat.”

I wiggled my chin free and rubbed it. “Don’t manhandle me.”

“Be glad I’m not putting you over my knee. Kat has been worried sick about you. She’s called and texted at least fifty times since four o’clock. And you were out getting drunk with a hot cheerleader.” Disdain dripped from every syllable.

“She’s not a cheerleader anymore. Finance. She’s a finance person.” I babbled. “And she’s in love with Lucy.”

“Are you in love with Sam?”

I shook my head slowly. I could feel my brain swishing back and forth in my head. Holding my head with both hands to stop the pain, I said, “No. I’m in love with Kat, but she’s mad at me.”

“Then, for the love of God, stay quiet. You obviously can’t handle your liquor.”

“Whiskey. Tastes like shit and burns. It’s truth serum.”

Mom couldn’t help laughing. “I wish Barbara could see you.”

“Where is she? She wouldn’t be mad at me.” I pouted.

“No. She might challenge you to strip down and run through the neighborhood, though.”

“Need more whiskey for that. You know who would? Kat! She’s the sexiest thing.”

Kat walked in at that moment. “Who’s the sexiest thing?”

Unfortunately, she only heard the last sentence. I was sure she thought I meant Samantha. I ducked, expecting her to throw the coffee cup at my head, which made me look even guiltier.

“You, Kat, according to my inebriated daughter.” Mom came to my defense.

“You don’t have to cover for her.” Kat set the cup down angrily, slopping coffee on the glass table.

“I’m not covering for her. You know I don’t lie. Apparently, if you get Cori drunk on whiskey, she loosens up some. Let’s get her somewhat sober and take her along tonight.”

“Take me along where?” I slurped the coffee, knowing I had to sober up fast to avoid losing Kat. At the very least, I would otherwise be in for one hell of a night of fighting and reassuring. My head wasn’t in the mood for that, and my tongue felt swollen and slime-covered.

“I have an appointment with a psychic,” said Mom.

“A psychic? What in the hell for?”

“My private investigator didn’t find any proof of your father’s affair, so I’m hoping a medium will be able to help.” She made it sound like the logical next step.

God damn! I had picked the wrong day to drink so much whiskey and beer. The invective that almost flew out of my mouth would have not only pissed off my mother but possibly also permanently damaged our relationship. I bit down hard on my lip to stop myself from saying anything.

Kat sat next to me, and I nestled my head on her shoulder, half-expecting her to push me away; she didn’t.

“How are you feeling?” She ran her fingers through my hair.

“I’m so sorry!” I blubbered.

Her body tensed. “For what?” I didn’t think she really wanted to know. I was positive she imagined Samantha and me indulging in an afternoon tryst.

“For being such a loser.” I couldn’t stem the tide of tears. “You deserve so much more. Someone who can provide for you… better than I can. Someone who doesn’t work at Beantown Café.”

“Honey, what are you talking about?” Kat lifted my chin and gazed into my eyes.

“I don’t make millions of dollars like we thought I would. If I did, you could shop all of the time.” I attempted to wave my hand in the air, but ended up whacking my chin.

Kat’s expression saddened, and I felt responsible.

“Well, I think we need to get more coffee in her and a nice hot meal,” Mom interrupted. “Or who knows if she’ll ever stop feeling sorry for herself?”

I nestled my chin onto Kat’s chest, ignoring my mother, even if I was grateful she had nipped my outburst in the bud.

“Cori, finish your drink, and we’ll go to Pablo’s Café.” My mother is not a woman who can be ignored. “I think you’ll need some greasy food, and lots of it. The psychic is just around the corner from the restaurant.”

I did as I was told. All the while, Kat held me. The sadness never left her eyes, and I wanted to kiss it away, but I couldn’t with my mother sitting there tapping her watch.

By the time we reached my mother’s appointment, my head was starting to clear up. I wasn’t in the best of shape, but I no longer felt like weeping every other second. Never again would I drink whiskey. It brought out all of my sadness. I kept thinking of that saying, “Loose lips sink ships.”

When we entered the psychic’s “office,” which was actually her home, I had a hard time not laying into my mother about her stupidity. Seriously, it was bad enough that she had hired a PI who didn’t find anything, but now she was seeing a shyster! What next? A tattoo on her forehead that read “I’m a fool. Take advantage of me”? Or maybe a computer hacker?

“Now, Cori, I want you to be on your best behavior.” Mom flashed her best
Mommie Dearest
look.

“Oh, of course, Mother. Why would I misbehave here, of all places?” I looked away in disgust. The place reeked of incense: patchouli, my least favorite scent. The loony had a corkboard with testimonials attached to it. Seriously, someone came to her to find their cat, and miraculously, Fifi the cat was found. Or maybe it just got hungry and came home. I doubted it was a psychic miracle.

A dark-haired woman with olive skin rushed into the office, aka her entryway. Smiling, she shook my mother’s hand, and then Kat’s. She didn’t offer to shake my hand. Instead, she said, “I don’t want you here.”

“What?” I replied, bewildered.

“You have a bad aura. I can’t work with anyone while you’re in the house. You have to leave.” The loon’s face and posture hardened.

I looked to Mom and Kat for support, not receiving any. “Are you serious?” I said to the woman.

“Deadly.”

“You’re deadly serious that I have a bad aura. Or do you just know I can see through your bullshit?” I couldn’t hold my opinion in any longer.

“Cori!” Mom was not pleased. Her
Mommie Dearest
face turned into an “I will kill you if you embarrass me further” look. Kat seemed shell-shocked by the whole thing.

“Fine, Mother. I’ll go back to Pablo’s and have a drink. Kat would you like to join me?” I put my hand out.

“Kat also has an appointment.” Mom informed me.

“What? Kat, you think I’m having an affair?” I was too stunned to move.

“Ha! You have no faith in yourself. You’d never have an affair,” sputtered the clairvoyant.

“Honey, it’s not what you think. I’ll tell you later.” Kat turned her back on me.

Without another word, I stormed out of there and headed to Pablo’s. I was beyond pissed. How could Kat think I was having an affair? True, I had just spent the day getting blotto with Samantha when I should have been writing, but Samantha needed a friend. How did that constitute cheating?

And how did that nutjob know I had no confidence in myself? I didn’t like her to begin with, but now she was my archenemy. Why in the world did my girlfriend want to talk to a medium? Mom has always been crazy and attention-seeking, but Kat? Sure, she loved to be the center of attention and wore tops that make my eyes bulge out of my head, but this was a whole new level. I decided I needed her to stop hanging out with Mom. It was getting weird‌—‌insane, even.

Only two seats, side-by-side, remained vacant at the bar. I grabbed the one near the wall, placing my jacket on the seat next to me so no one would sit there. After ordering a margarita, I asked for some chips and salsa, hoping to soak up the alcohol. I had to be up at five the next morning for my shift at Beantown. I sat there sipping my marg, eating chips, watching the Red Sox on the tiny TV above the bar, and stewing.

Kat appeared after forty-five minutes. She slipped into the seat next to mine, not saying a word. I motioned to the bartender and ordered her a glass of red wine. Neither of us spoke. Kat nibbled at the chips nervously.

I couldn’t stand the tension. “Seriously, Kat. You think I’m fucking someone else?”

The man standing behind us gave me a startled look before hurriedly placing his order at the bar.

I was too upset to care that I was causing a scene. The bartender overheard, too, although he was better at hiding it. A quick peek at me, out of the corner of his eye, was his only acknowledgment.

“Cori, your mother went there because she thinks your father is having an affair. I had a different reason.”

“What?” I tried to erase all condescension from my face, hoping Kat would open up.

She never looked me in the eye. Staring at her purse in her lap, she muttered, “Just things.”

“Does my mother know what these things are?” Once more, I tried to mask my frustration.

She looked so downcast and unsure of herself‌—‌not like my Kat at all.

“She knows some of it. Only because she’s guessed.”

That hurt. The insinuation was that my mother either paid more attention to Kat or knew my girlfriend better than I did. Probably both were true, which annoyed me.

I lifted Kat’s face to stare into her eyes. “I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to, and I’m not completely in touch with my own feelings, but I want you to know one thing: I’m madly in love with you, and I’m always here for you.”

She gave a half-laugh, half-cry. “Wow, I think that’s the first time you’ve admitted it.”

“That I love you? I say that to you all of the time.”

“No, you don’t. But I was referring to you being emotionally detached. From yourself …” She paused, and then added, “And from me.”

If she had punched me in the nose, I wouldn’t have been more stunned.

“Is that why you went? To find some hocus-pocus way to get me to talk?” I tried to get Kat to smile. I failed.

“No. It was about me. But I might try to find a witch to cast a spell on you.” The tiniest, most fleeting of smiles appeared on Kat’s face for a moment.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You don’t need any spells. From now on, I’ll try to open up more.” I ordered another margarita, and Kat gave me a look. “I know I shouldn’t. However, Mom will be back soon, and I want to be in my happy place to hear about her appointment.” I pushed the empty glass away, noticing a paper cup sitting by Kat’s wineglass. “What’s that?”

She colored. “Oh, it’s from Kay.”

“Who’s Kay?”

“The woman I just saw.”

“Her name is Kay? Not some fancy East European name like Agnieszka?”

“Yep. Just Kay.”

“Why’d she give you a paper cup?” I really was walking on eggshells, so I asked as innocently as possible.

“I’m supposed to pour the water over my head at midnight.”

I reached for the cup, to see the magic potion, but Kat slapped my hand away. “She told me you shouldn’t touch it. You’d ruin it.”

Luckily, the bartender arrived with my drink. I sipped it quickly so I wouldn’t say anything stupid. “Oh, I understand.” I said slowly. “What’s the ceremony for?”