"Brooklyn? Hello?" My head snapped to Keith who was looking at me as though I'd lost my mind. Ben looking over his shoulder to see what had caught my eye. "You okay, sweetie?"
"Yeah, fine. Sorry." I felt my blood boiling. I wanted to walk over there and beat the living shit out of that little blonde bitch with my cast. But for now, I fought it, shoved it down so I could enjoy my afternoon with what would eventually be known as "The Boys."
I sat on the couch, and thought about the afternoon. You'd think that I'd be going over the five hours I spent with Keith and Ben, but no, I was thinking about what had caught my eye at the park bathrooms. You guessed it, Cody and T.J.
What the hell was wrong with me? I was seething as I sat on the couch, unable to pace easily or I would be. I was, was, I was jealous!
I recognized it for what it was, but goddamnit, why was I jealous?
Looking around the room, I saw the picture of my parents that I always talked to when I was unsure about something, or just needed to feel their presence. I looked at it now, slowly standing from the couch, and taking the photo from the wall, taking it back with me as I sat down, setting it on the coffee table. I always felt foolish when I did this, and no one knew I did, not even Rand.
"What is wrong with me, guys?" I asked the picture, my parent's smiles forever frozen in place. "What do I have to be jealous of? I don't get it, but I absolutely hate that girl, T.J." I ran an impatient hand through my hair. "I'm not a mean person, I'm not a spiteful person, but I can't stand her! Seeing her standing so close to Cody today, seeing them talk and laugh, and Cody not even looking around to see me there. God, I just don't get it. I haven't known Cody that terribly long, but still, I feel, I don't know."
Leaning back into the softness of the cushions, I looked up at the ceiling, trying to formulate my thoughts, to clarify them for me, let alone my parents.
"I feel protective of her somehow, like, well," I sighed, chewing on my lower lip. "I know we're friends, close friends, for that matter. But, it's almost as if there's something more there? Like, I don't know, like I feel I owe her something, and she owes me something, which is, of course, ridiculous. Cody doesn't owe me a damn thing, and nor do I owe her anything. It's like I feel more than friendship for her, but what does that mean? It makes no friggin' sense."
I pulled myself up, and headed for the kitchen, needing some coffee to help me in my little rant.
The water poured into the little container, I headed to the fridge to grab the large can of Maxwell House.
"So, she meets this new girl, T.J." I can't keep the venom out of the name, just the very name makes me want to cringe. "What's so bad about this girl? She's a skater like Cody. I mean, Cody has other skater friends, hell, look at Jimmy for crying out loud. If I should feel threatened by anyone, it should be him." I stopped, mid-scoop. I looked out the darkened window above the sink, seeing my own reflection looking back at me, head cocked to the side, looking just as confused as I felt. "Did I just say threatened?" I asked the woman looking back at me, but she could only ask the same thing. "Okay, so I'm turning into a freak with stalker's tendencies," I muttered as I turned the pot on to brew.
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed over my chest, my fingers playing with the ragged edge of my arm cast near my elbow.
"So, I'm jealous that Cody has a new playmate. Why is that?" I tried to put my logical mind to work, trying to analyze the situation and figure it out so I could forget about this madness, and get on with my night. "Does that mean she'll replace me? But what's to be replaced? We're only friends."
With a growl, I shook my head. So this must be how Rand felt about Cody. Now I truly understood. She felt threatened, jealous, worried, like her territory had been encroached upon, like she'd lose out.
But what was there for me to lose? Rand and I had been friends for what, a dozen years? I didn't have near as much invested in Cody as Rand did in me, yet, somehow, it felt like it would hurt just as bad if I lost her.
That phrase again, lost her. To what? What, so she didn't come over as much? I didn't have to feed her as often? I mean, that was the first thing she asked for when she came over.
A smile spread across my face.
"I kind of like that." I grinned. "It's so cute." My eyes opened wide, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. This is ridiculous.
I needed to talk to Rand. There was no way I could tell her about the lunacy going through my head, but I missed her, and needed to hear something that was constant.
The coffee groaning to a stop, I poured myself a cup, and headed back into the living room to plop down on the couch once more. Looking at my parents, I muttered, "You guys are no help."
Looking at the number Rand had given me, I dialed the eleven numbers, and waited.
"Hello?" came the low, breathy voice.
"Hey, sugar lips," I breathed into the phone.
"Brooklyn!" I could hear the smile in her words.
"Did I wake you?"
"Yes." I smiled at the no nonsense answer and tone. God, I missed her, and I told her so. "I miss you, too, babe. How is everything? How is your leg and arm?"
"I get the casts off in a few days."
"Oh, Brook, that's wonderful." I could hear her readjusting herself in the bed. "How's my baby? Have you seen him?"
"I talked with him about a week ago. He met Keith and I for lunch. Speaking of, I had lunch today with Keith and Ben."
"Oh, the new boy toy. How did that go?"
"It went well. He's actually really nice, and very cute."
"Well, I always said Keith had good taste."
"I should say so. He was with me, after all." We both chuckled. "How's the new job and place?" I laid back in the cushions, my free arm behind my head.
"Very busy, and incredibly stressful. I run all day everyday, and I've even lost five pounds."
"Ew, Rand! You were a twig before!" This, of course conjured up pictures of T.J. in my mind, and made me nearly growl into the phone.
"Yeah, well, I always thought the Karen Carpenter thing was sexy."
"You're seriously disturbed." She laughed.
"But you love me anyway." I smiled.
"Immensely."
I was so thankful to Rand; she could always make me forget all my problems.
As I lay in bed that night, I decided that I was being entirely unfair to Cody. She had every right to make friends, and to be around people who she found interesting. It really was crappy for me to be angry at her for meeting new people. Hell, her mother would be so thrilled if she knew. She felt that Cody was entirely too introverted, and needed to get out more.
Cody would be taking me to get my casts off, and I wanted it to go well. I decided to just forget about all this nonsense, and just enjoy the time with her that I had.
* * *
"Are you okay?" Cody asked, her voice soft, and concerned. I nodded.
"Yeah. How does it look? Pretty gross and shriveled up?" I couldn't bear to look at the arm that had been encased in plaster for the past two months, finally seeing the light of day.
"Well, it looks like you're a third-world white girl, but other than that, it looks fine." I glared at her smile.
"How does it feel, Brooklyn?" I turned to see my doctor, looking at me, studying my facial expressions, looking for the slightest bit of pain.
"Well," I finally looked at my arm, skinny and shriveled as it was, and began to move it, able to bend my elbow for the first time. I winced. "It feels a little tight."
"It should. Your arm has been out of order for a little while. That will wear off, so don't worry. How about your leg? I want you to stand."
Taking a deep breath, I placed a hand on the doc's shoulder, and stood, trying not to put any weight on it.
"Now, Brooklyn, you have to see if it works." He chuckled. Chewing on my lip, I gently set the bare foot, also very pale and shriveled, to the cold tile floor, and slowly put some weight on it. It hurt just a bit, but felt pretty darn good for the most part. "How about your ankle? How's that?" I moved my foot from side to side, only feeling a slight pull once, then moved it in a slow circle.
"Wow, that feels surprisingly good." I smiled at the doctor, then at Cody who watched with interest.
"Well, you healed wonderfully fast, so I'd say you're going to be just fine." He patted my hand, then smiled at me. "Good luck to you, and if there's any problems, you feel free to call me."
"Thanks so much." I hugged the doctor quickly, then turned back to Cody. "Still have my shoe and sock?"
"Right here." She showed me the unused right shoe, and handed it to me.
"Let's get you out of here and back on a bike." Cody smiled at me, leading the way out of the office.
"Well, give me a little time for that, will you?"
Part 11
"Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?" I turned to Kristine, shook my head.
"Nah. He’ll put you to work." I smacked her playfully on the arm, and opened the door. "Thanks so much for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow at work."
"Wait, Brooklyn, how are you going to get home?" She was nearly hanging out of her car window, concern etching her face.
"Don’t worry. I’ll make him get off his lazy butt and take me home. Really. I’ll be fine, now get out of here." I tapped the roof of her car, and she smiled.
"Okay. If you say so. Later, chickie."
"Bye, Kristine. Thanks, again."
I turned to face my uncle’s house, shaking my head as I saw that he was letting the grass die, again. Walking around to the side of the house, I unwound the hose, and got the sprinklers going. At least it could get two hours worth of water while I was here for my monthly stop.
"Hey, Uncle Bruce," I called out as I opened the screen door. "Your letting the grass brown again."
"Pah, it looks fine." He looked at me from the archway leading to the kitchen, a beer in his hand. I noticed the small pyramid of cans on the tray next to his chair, then looked at him, arms crossed over my chest.
"Uncle Bruce." He looked away, hating the accusatory tone of my voice.
"It’s hot! A man needs a nice cold one on a day like this." He hobbled into the room, holding onto different pieces of furniture as he went.
"Right," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I began to gather the trash on his tray, finding the empty garbage can near the desk. Why the man couldn’t put his trash in it was beyond me. "How did your doctor’s appointment go?" I asked, beginning to gather trash around the house. "Sorry I couldn’t take you," I called from the bathroom.
"Eh, it went alright, I suppose. They didn’t tell me nothin’ I didn’t already know," he called back.
"Well, I don’t believe that for a second," I muttered, seeing that the bathroom trash was near over flowing. How his wife didn’t kill him before she died I’ll never understand.
Making my way to the kitchen and the main trash, I noted that all the dishes were done in the sink. I turned to see the old man quickly turn away from watching me, pretending to watch the bowling tournament on TV.
I made my slow way over to him, cupping his cheek from behind and kissing the top of his head. "I’m proud of you, Uncle Bruce," I said quietly. "Now why can’t you do that more often?"
"Don’t want to," he grumbled, like an impudent child.
"Well, if that’s not obvious." I heard him groan as he stood, me making my way to his bedroom to change the sheets.
"How’s your hip doing? If it’s giving out on you already, wait till you’re my age." He gave me a toothy grin.
"Well, my leg and arm are fine, but thanks for the heads up." I began to strip the queen-sized bed, Bruce surprising me by moving around to the other side and helping me. See, the thing about my uncle Bruce is that I had no doubt that he was just as capable of doing all the stuff for himself that I did for him, but I think he played helpless because he liked the company.
Truth be told, so did I. He was, after all, my only family left.
"Well, you look like you’re fine now." He tossed the pillows to the floor, taking hold of the undersheet and yanking it off the mattress.
"It’s better. I just got the cast off last week. It’s still tender. And, you’re going to have to give me a ride home. Can’t drive."
"Just like old times, eh?" He smiled at me, his dry, wrinkled old lips nearly cracking with the effort.
"Yes, sir. Just like old times."
"You know, your mother won a bed-making contest once. Damn near made it into the Guinness Book of World Records." He raised his bushy, white eyebrows for emphasis.
"You’re kidding me." I grabbed a set of clean sheets from the linen closet just outside the bedroom door, and returned, tossing an end over to him.
"No ma’am. True story. Your mother always liked to sign up for silly contests and drawings, and the like. Well, one was in the middle of a mall. These people there, see, said that if she could make the bed in under, oh I don’t remember what the time limit was now, but they gave her a certain amount of time, and she could win a trip for two." He smiled. When he started in on his stories, I never knew when he was telling the truth, and when he was mixing up a whole bunch of people’s lives, but I always enjoyed them. Especially when they involved my parents.
"Did she win?"
"Nope. She was a mere half a second off." He snapped his fingers. "Lost just like that." I chuckled.
"I bet she was mad."
"Oh, you know it." He grinned. "Luckily you got your father’s temper. Your mother, oh boy," He whistled as he tucked the corner under the mattress. "Your grandparents used to call her the red ant. It was fitting, too. Give me the end of the blanket, will you?"
"Well, it’s summer, Uncle Bruce. Are you sure you want it?" He gave me his version of ‘the look.’ "Okay, just asking."
Maybe my mom wasn’t the only red ant in the family.
* * *
I sighed, tossing the phone aside. This was the third time this week that I couldn’t get a hold of Cody on her cell. Bummed, I decided to try my exercises again. I had had my casts off for nearly two weeks, and was loving every minute of the new-found freedom. I could shower, I could take a nice long, hot bath until I pruned if I so chose, I could walk without a hobble, plus, I could work my clay again.
For now I decided to head over to my inside bike that I’d drug down from the upstairs bedroom. The stationary bike was what I used back when I used to participate in bike marathons. It helped to build my stamina when I couldn’t go out and ride the real thing.
So, it would help me once again.
I had been on it once, stupidly, in the first week after my casts came off, and had to pretty much stop immediately. So, slowly I had built up until I could ride for about thirty minutes at a time on the easiest speed.
Cody had made a bet with me, and a Fletcher never backs down on a bet. I was determined for her to see me on this damn thing if it was the last thing I did.
Taking several deep breaths, I climbed on, adjusting my shorts and my socks, which of course I knew was a way to delay the inevitable. I had never been this out of shape in my entire life, and it killed me now to be so wiped out after only thirty minutes of exercise. Thirty minutes!
As I sat on the bike, my feet fitted onto the pedals, I took another deep breath, determined to make an hour today. If I were to ride the real thing, I had to push myself all the harder.
I set the timer, and flicked on my stereo, the pounding beat of the song that played helping to push me to begin.
"Here goes." I began to push, keeping most of the weight unconsciously on my left foot, but as soon as I realized what I was doing, I stopped, centering myself, and equaling the burden. Re-starting the timer, I began in earnest.
Breathing in through my nose, and out through my mouth, I selected a slightly harder speed, my thighs groaning in protest, but I knew it would be a great pain later, that satisfying pain of muscle being used and pushed beyond normal limits, a wonderful burning sensation. I smiled as I knew that the groaning muscle really notated muscle being made healthy and useful once more.
I wanted to do this so much for Cody. After the accident, I truly thought, in my pity party state of mind, that I’d never ride again, never mount a bike again. I had given one passion up, and I really had no desire to give up another. The way she had stood by me through all this, I owed it to her to ride again. Hell, I owed it to myself.
* * *
I took a deep breath as I got out of Kristine's car, running a hand through my new hair, so soft after getting professional attention. My friend looked at me, having to drive me as I wasn’t allowed to drive quite yet.
"Will she like it?" she asked.
"I don’t know. I’ve been threatening to do this long enough." I gave her a nervous smile, and opened the car door. I reached back, rubbing my hand over the newly bared skin of the back of my neck. It felt so much cooler and had that strange prickly sensation of freshly shaved skin. The hairdresser had done just that to the back of my neck.
Heading up to the porch, Kristine behind me, I reached out and pushed the doorbell. Bouncing on the ball of my feet, I waited, my heart pounding in my chest. I rang the doorbell again.
"No, shit, Sherlock! I hear you!" was yelled somewhere deep within the house. I looked back at Kristine to see her smiling with a shrug. I turned back towards the door, listening.
Thud, thud, thud,
"Jump, jump, jump,"
Thud, thud, thud, Thud!
"Jump, jump, jump, land." I grinned, seeing Cody bounding down the stairs two at a time to finally take a leap off the third from the bottom to land squarely on the first floor. My heart beat sped up as I heard her heavy footfalls heading toward the door, until finally all the locks were disengaged, and it was swung open.
Cody stood there, hair wild, baggy boxers, and a black tank. She looked a little surprised when she saw who had interrupted her sleep, but that was quickly taken over by cool indifference. God, she drove me nuts sometimes.
Then she saw my hair.
Blue eyes widened just a bit, and she stepped out onto the porch, walking around me in a slow circle, taking in the massive loss of hair. Length that had reached my mid-back an hour ago now barely reached the nape of my neck, brushing gently over my ears. I had also had it highlighted so now it was a bright, vibrant blonde.
I wanted to ask what she thought, but didn’t dare. I know she’d be brutally honest with me when she was ready.
"So," she drawled, "looks like a pair of scissors got pretty damn hungry." I could hear Kristine chuckle from near the stairs.
"Something like that," I said, my eyes following her progress as she continued her travels around me. I could almost feel her gaze upon my new look, it was so intense.
"So," she finally said, coming to rest in front of me. "Where are you taking me to lunch?" The corner of her mouth was slightly curved, the start of a grin on her lips.
"So you like it then." More a statement than a question from me.
"Would I want to be seen in public with you if I didn’t?"
"Fair enough." I smiled, turning to Kristine. "Hungry?"
* * *
Running my hands through my hair, for about the millionth time in the last hour, I sat in front of my computer at work, trying to decide which to do next, start a new project or fix the old one for the fourth time today. This new guy they hired was a real idiot. Did he even know how to read? Judging from the mistakes he continued to make, I seriously doubted it.
This afternoon I’d bring Cody over to show her what I’ve managed to do. I still had my old bike from before I got my beloved Murry, so I could show her on a real bike that I could, indeed ride.
Glancing at the clock on the screen, I saw that I was out of here in just under an hour.
* * *
Ring, ring, ring.
"What?"
"Hey, you." I smiled into the phone, Cody’s voice coming over her cell phone sounding like tin rather than the normal, rich timbre.
"Hi."
"Where are you?" I could hear traffic.
"Um, standing on the corner of Elm and Branson," she said, a large engine passing close by her, nearly drowning out her voice. My brows drew. That was only a few blocks away. I smiled.
"Oh yeah? Is it a busy street?" I laid back against the pillows on my bed, still smiling.
"Nah, not really," she said, playing along as we both knew it was one of the busiest intersections in the subdivision.
"Oh, that’s good. Come over."
"Okay. You’ll have to tell me how, though."
"Well, cross Elm, and then head straight for a while until you reach Laramie." I explained, making sure my directions were slow and clear.
"Hold on, hold on, not so fast," she whined. I grinned. Oh, that was just too cute. "Okay, I’ve crossed Elm." I could hear her panting in my ear, the effort of pushing herself along on her board and talking taking its toll.
"Good, good. You’re doing great, Cody." I put a smile of encouragement in my words.
"Really? Oh, goody!" I heard a really loud noise. "Whoa!" Cody barked into the phone. "Asshole! Watch where you're going!"
"Cody? Are you okay?" I sat up on the bed, my heart flipping that something could happen to her.
"Yeah. Fucker almost hit me."
My eyes closed in relief. "Please be careful, will you? You almost gave me a heart attack."
"You? Be on this end, you whiner."
I smiled as I heard the front door open downstairs, and clicked my phone off, tossing it aside as I jumped off the bed, and headed toward the stairs.
It had felt so wonderful to sleep in my own bed again. The day after I’d gotten my cast off, I’d slept until eleven the next morning just because I could.
Cody nearly ran me over as she headed for the stairs to ditch the bra.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my hand going to her arm.
"Yeah, I’m okay." She ran a hand through her long hair, pushing it out of her face. "I hate that people don’t bother looking where the fuck they’re going."
"I know. Hurry up with that, I want to show you something." I gave her a grin, spanning from ear to ear, and she just looked down at me, a confused smile of her own gracing her features.
"Okay. Give me two minutes." I looked at my watch, she rolled her eyes.
As I waited, I rubbing my palms together, trying to decide where I should do this. Should it be in the driveway? The street? Down on the basketball courts at the park? No, I wouldn’t be able to ride that far. I guess the street out front would have to do.
"So what’s so important?" Cody asked, bounding back down the stairs, childish excitement showing in every bounce.
"Come with me." I grabbed her by the wrist, and dragged her out front with me. "Stay." I stopped her on the driveway, then headed back into the house to open the garage door. As I waited, the light of day slowly filling the stifled space, I flexed my fingers on the handlebars of the bike, one leg already thrown over. Finally the door was completely open, and I heard footsteps as Cody walked toward the garage. "I said stay, you nut!" I called out. The footsteps immediately stopped. With one deep breath of good luck, I pushed off with my left foot, wincing every so slightly as my right ankle came into contact with the pedal on the other side of the bike before I adjusted myself, and heaved myself up into the seat, coasting out into the driveway.
"Dude!" Cody called out as I breezed to the end, turning into the street, and carefully pushing with my legs to propel myself. A grin covered my face at her exclamation, which I knew was saved for really intense events for her.
Finding my balance, and my courage, I glanced over at the house to see a smiling Cody running to the street, watching me as I pedaled, slow and easy.
"Look at you go, man!" She dug her hands into the pockets of her cargos, eyes still on me as I began to do small figure eights in the street. An incredible sense of pride filled my chest as I did it. Yes, I was thrilled to be able to do this for Cody who had believed in me from the beginning, but I realized that more than anything, I was proud of myself for not giving it up and overcoming obstacles unlike so many other things in my life.
Feeling I’d pushed it to the limit, and not wanting to be in pain or tired during my time with Cody, I pulled up to stop in front of her. She beamed at me.
"I told you could do it," she said quietly, her eyes intense as they burned into mine. "Shocked yourself, didn’t you?" I nodded.
"Maybe just a little." I held up my hand to show the small space between my thumb and forefinger."
"You know what this means, right?" That half-cocked grin of hers again.
"The bet?"
"The bet. See you at seven?" She raised a brow, and I met her challenge, suddenly feeling ready for it.
"Seven it is. Are you going to pick me up?" I stood, the bike balanced between my legs.
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