Page 41 of Cat's Outta the Bag

I don’t even know what to say, I just stare at him. Of all the things I thought he might say, I didn’t expect him to question my ability to balance my life.

At my silence, he continues, "You know I married Lisa during my residency, and I was so caught up in the ups and downs of our relationship I almost lost sight of my career. I was so afraid of losing her, that I have into every selfish whim she had until I didn’t know what I even wanted anymore. I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."

I sigh, closing my eyes briefly. I know he’s just trying to protect me because he’s my father, but I thought he understood that I wouldn’t ever let someone get in the way of my career. I’m too driven.

"Dad, while I appreciate your concern, it's not needed. Jason knows how important my career is to me. We've had several discussions on our life goals and what takes priority. He would never push me to set anything aside in favor of our relationship. Just like I would never do that to him. Thank you, but I don't need you to worry."

He puts his hands up as if to calm me down, which honestly makes me more mad. "Alright, alright. But as your father, I just needed to get my worries off my chest. You do with them what you will. I love you, Bug."

And just like that, my childhood nickname disarms me entirely, and I'm no longer mad. Or at least, downgraded to frustrated. I begrudgingly smile and give him a hug. Just as we're separating, Jason and my mom enter with the wine and glasses. He's laughing at something my mom said, and she's grinning like she just won the lottery. My dad might be worried, but when I look at what we're starting to build? I'm not.

***

Much, much later, Jason and I are a tangle of limbs and sheets, one of his hands running up and down my spine. I'm sated and drowsy but can't quite sleep yet. I shift around a bit until I'm propped up on his chest and can see the smug smile on his face. This time, I don't stop myself from leaning down and taking a little nibble out of his pec.

"Hey!" He slaps his hand over my mouth, a mock scowl on his face. I know my little love nips don't bother him; I can literally feel the evidence pressing against my hip. We're not sleeping anytime soon. "What was that for?"

I shrug, trying to look nonchalant. "Just wanted you to know how excited I am for this weekend. I can't believe you planned all this while wrapping your movie." He shrugs as if it isn't a big deal, but it is. It shows how much he pays attention and cares about me, that when he says 'I love you,' he means it. "I am a little worried about our mothers being in the same house, though. They'll either fall in love and gang up on us or initiate a Cold War.” I pretend to shudder at the thought. “I’m not sure which would be worse.”

He chuckles a bit, squeezing my arm. “I think they’ll get along fine. I will concede that your mom might be a little more intense than mine, but their hearts are in the same place.”

“Ha! So, you do admit that my mom is crazy!” I knew she’d freaked him out.

“Not crazy, just intense. She wants you to be happy, and a healthy relationship with me is a sign that you are, indeed, happy.” He shrugs as if my mother's motivations are easy to understand.

I shake my head; this man is something else. How anyone could get through tonight with my mother and still have a favorable opinion of her is beyond me. I'm her daughter; I'm forced to unconditionally love her, crazy and all. But for Jason to be able to just roll with it? Well, it fills me up.

He lifts me up so he can quickly kiss me on the lips before settling us more comfortably in the bed. It's weird. This is the first night we've spent in his apartment. And while I'm glad I don't have to worry about my neighbor tonight or my parents, to be honest, I'm a little curious as to why we never hang out here. But just as I open my mouth to ask, I hear a snore. Jason is out, mouth open, and already drooling. I snap a picture and giggle to myself; this will be excellent blackmail material later.

Chapter 30

Jason

Imay have miscalculated slightly.

I'm in the kitchen preparing a round of margaritas for the girls. They're all down by the pool, sunning themselves and enjoying the nice day out. After the giant breakfast we had earlier, I half expect them to all be asleep by the time I deliver the drinks.

My dad and Bill are on the patio, discussing his grill and the finer points of preparing steak. You know what any pair of old white dudes would care to discuss.

But no, I miscalculated.

Because right now, my mom and Cheryl are in the living room, whispering to each other and giggling quietly every minute or so. I'm honestly terrified of whatever it is they are cooking up.

To make matters worse, they've literally been like that since we arrived, which has made Alexis go from normal stressed to “I can't stop sweating and pooping” stressed. And considering it's her birthday, I'm a little annoyed. Her mom should know that what she's doing is making her daughter anxious and cut it out. If I hadn't just met Cheryl, I would try to say something, but Alexis and I are finally finding our footing, and getting into an argument, justified or not, with her mother is not advisable.

So instead, I go for my own mother.

She’ll be easier to break anyway.

"Hey, Mom? Can you come to the kitchen quick? I can't find that thingy you use to grate the lime." I start banging a few drawers and cabinets for good measure. The whispering stops, and I hear my mom say she will be right back. Thank god Cheryl is staying put.

When my mom comes through the entryway, she's smiling so wide I feel like it must hurt. Damn, I really hate that I'm going to rain on her parade now, but Alexis is my priority today.

“Honey,” she says exasperated, pointing to the zester already in my hand.

"Sorry, Mom, I just needed to talk to you quick," I pause and listen, hoping Cheryl has stayed out of earshot, "without Lex's mom," I say that part quietly, just in case. Understanding dawns on my mom's face, and she rounds the island so I can keep my voice low.

“So, I’m so glad you are hitting it off with Cheryl, and Alexis is too. Or she will be. Once she stops agonizing over the fact that you two seem to be planning something. It’s her birthday, and I really want her to relax and enjoy the weekend, but she absolutely won’t if she thinks you are cooking something up together.” My mom nods, not even trying to deny what I’m saying.

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