Sam clutches Jordan’s hand and stares at her again. “So you have to take a guardian?”
“That’s what the rules say, since I’m not eighteen.”
“I know somebody who lives in Hoboken, New Jersey. A guy I played ball with in college.”
I glance up at him. “You do?”
“Let me give him a call and see if he has room for us. Maybe we can stay a few days. And we’ll take my truck. Then all we’d need to do is round up money for gas and food. That’d probably run us five hundred dollars or so?” He looks at Jordan to confirm his estimate, and she nods.
“I’ve got money saved you can use,” she says quietly.
“That’s your money,” my brother says.
“It’s our money,” she replies, but Sam raises a hand. I guess she takes the hint, because she stays quiet for the first time in her life.
“What about your job?” I ask Sam. “Isn’t this your busiest time, with all the college games happening right now?”
“I’ll take off.”
“I don’t want to cause trouble for you.”
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” My brother pats my back. “We’ll find a way.”
Seasons of Love
A week after our date at the Spaghetti Factory, Jesse calls and asks for “a huge favor.”
“No, I will not have sex with you,” I joke.
“No, no. This is serious,” he replies, taking a deep breath. “I’m wondering if you’ll watch Casper for me while I’m on tour.”
I let out a sigh; I’m glad he trusts me, but I’m sad he’ll be gone for six weeks. “Of course I’ll watch her, but don’t you have people who can do that?”
“She likes you, and Grace and my security guards don’t like taking care of her ’cause she always scratches and bites them. The little vixen’s been known to draw blood.”
So the day before he leaves, Jesse shows up at my house with Casper riding in a Ralph Lauren cat carrier, along with a litter box, a scratching post, enough gourmet cat food to feed all cats everywhere, and a specialized water filter for felines.
I help him carry everything to the porch, then he goes back to his truck and emerges with one of those paper crowns from Burger King. He places it right on top of my head.
“What’s the crown for?”
“You’re my QueenQueen,” he says, referring to my Twitter name. With a mischievous smile, he drops a kiss to my cheek.
Jesse follows me down the hall, peeking through doors along the way. He comes to a halt outside Anna’s room. “Is this your room, My?” he asks, tipping his head at a poster of him sitting on a tractor, shirtless.
“Of course it’s not.”
“Don’t worry, Casper. If you get lonely and miss me, just look up at Maya’s Jesse Scott shrine.”
“Oh hush, that’s my sister’s room.” He follows me to mine, where I flop down on the bed, still wearing my new crown.
After setting up Casper’s cat stuff in the corner, Jesse studies the pictures on my dresser, paying particular attention to the one of Dave and me dressed as Mario and the Princess at Halloween, the recently added picture of Jesse and me with the GranTurismo, and a photo of me, Anna, Sam, and Jordan.
Jesse touches the picture taken at Fall Creek Falls last June. Sam had just revealed he could gargle any song on demand, and Jordan cried bullshit. So he sipped some water and then gargled “Respect” by Aretha Franklin, and Anna, Jordan, and I about died laughing because it was so terrible.
Clearing his throat, Jesse pulls sheet music out of his back pocket. “Everything that’s happened to you since we met has been weird, huh?”
“Um, being in People magazine? Yeah.”
“You know my new song? ‘Waiting for Christmas’? The one I sang for you at Gibson? It’s kind of based on you and me and our first day together, and I’ve been thinking a lot about our duet on the Belle Carol. It was fun, and I liked how we sounded together.”
“Me too!”
He pulls a deep breath. “‘Waiting’ is actually a duet. Want to collaborate on it? Come record in the studio with me?”
“Me?” I stammer.
“Yes, you. Mark’s on board too.”
This must be the secret project he mentioned! “Would it, um, go on an album or on the radio or something?”
Jesse shrugs and smiles. “Nah—it would just be for fun. But you’d get some experience in the studio. It would probably be the last song I record.”