Page 42 of Stray for You

“Sebastian might take on a few more hours, but since it’s fall, that shouldn’t be too big of a problem. And I can cover a coffee bar shift if we’re really in trouble. It should be okay. Thanks for letting me know. Do you mind putting it on the calendar in the staff room?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll … I’ll go do that.”

I slink away, retreating to the staff-only area with the litter boxes and cat medication. A calendar hangs on the wall, and I shakily mark off the days when Julian will be here as “Cameron out.” At the last minute, I cross one of them out. I tell myself it’s because I’ll need the cash from the shift, but the self-deception falls flat. Really, I want an excuse to be away from Julian if the need arises.

Holy shit, I’m really doing this.

It was one thing to say yes when he texted me the idea, but taking days off from work gives the whole thing a tangibility I wasn’t prepared for. I keep replaying the sequence of events in my head for the rest of the day, and I’m still wondering how this happened when I head to Aunt Mary’s house after work for my weekly family dinner.

Aunt Mary lounges in the living room when I enter the cozy one-story house. The couch sags under her, the springs so old they barely bounce back anymore. I helped them upgrade to a flat screen TV at least, but everything else in the house feels like a relic that belongs in a museum, from the wooden coffee table with glass inserts to the cheesy landscape print framed on the wall.

I head through the living room to the kitchen in the back and find Mom stirring something bubbling in a big pot atop the stove.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, kissing her on the cheek.

“Cameron, you’re early. Or are you on time? Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it’s already almost six.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” I say. “We can eat whenever. What can I help with?”

She sets me to work chopping up vegetables that end up in the pot. I’m grateful to have a task to perform. It keeps my mind in the present and off of my phone. Julian has been texting non-stop since we made this insane plan to see each other again. I feel like I’ve given catnip to one of the café cats and set them loose sprinting and jumping all over the shop. Is that what I am to him? Catnip? I figured he had a bunch of hookups all over the country because of his job and all, so why would he bother flying all this way to see me in particular?

I shake my head at myself, and don’t realize I’m doing it until I catch Mom watching me.

“Everything alright?” she says.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You were shaking your head at the peppers.”

“I just … I think I cut them wrong. Is this okay?”

I display a cutting board worth of chopped up vegetables, but Mom keeps her eyes on me.

“You can’t mess up cutting them,” she says. “They’re just going in the pot. Cameron, is there something on your mind?”

For a crazy moment, I actually consider telling her, but I almost instantly think better of it. How could I possibly tell her that it’s Julian who has my head all twisted?Hey, Mom, remember that guy you found hitting on me while you were dating his mom? Remember the guy who fucked up the best relationship you ever had after Dad left?No way. I’m not goingto openly admit that I’m doing something that will probably hurt her. Julian and I weren’t supposed to be into each other back in college when our moms dated, and we probably should have continued not being into each other now.

I put my head down and focus on an onion as guilt chews its way through me. I know how messed up this is, and I’m still doing it. This little trip of his has to be the end of it. I already said yes and took the time off of work. There’s no going back. I’ll get Julian out of my system and move on with my life, and hopefully Mom will never realize I betrayed her.

I help her get dinner ready. Aunt Mary pops in to retrieve cutlery and plates for the table. Mom dishes out huge portions of mac ‘n’ cheese with peppers, onions and even a bit of pulled pork worked in. It’s one of her homemade specialties, and I’m grateful to sit down and dig in once we’re all around the table for our weekly meal. I haven’t worked out how I’m going to dodge around this situation next week. Maybe I can leave Julian in my apartment. He’s an adult. He can find a way to occupy himself. I certainly can’t bring him here. I’d sooner die.

“Everything okay, Cameron?”

This time it’s Aunt Mary picking up on my anxiety.

I shake myself out of my head. “Sorry, yeah, I’m distracted today.”

My mother and her cousin share a look.

“You know you can always talk to us,” Aunt Mary says.

“You were so happy last week. Did something happen?” Mom asks.

Last week. Last week when Julian was here. I seemed happy to them? That’s… I’m not sure I’m ready to contemplate that, so I set it aside on the heap of other problems I’m doing my best to ignore.

“You know,” Mom says, pronouncing each word strangely slowly, “Miss Brooks gave me a call the other day.”

I freeze, my fork halfway to my mouth with a bite of mac ‘n’ cheese dripping off it. Miss Brooks, as in Julian’s mom.

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