He puts his hand up to shield his mouth, as if the cat won't be able to hear him. "She's awesome, though. I just don't want it going to her head or she'll fucking own me more than she already does and I'll turn into a crazy cat lady. I may be about ninety-seven percent there already, and I've only known her for about eight hours. She's going to work me over. Hard. I just know it."
I'm pretty sure Gustov just earned about ten points in the nice department with all of this. Physically, he's this huge man. Who's also a rock star. Who lives with and adores his mom. Who befriended Paxton in an instant. And he's just rescued a hurt, stray kitten. He's definitely not the man I thought he was a few months ago. He's ... just ... good. And goddamn ... that's attractive.
Monday, September 25
(Gus)
Ma told me that, over the weekend, her mailroom guy lost his grandma. The funeral is in Seattle, which means he'll be gone for the rest of the week. I volunteered to help her out because, to be honest, I'd rather do anything than sit at home alone, just me and this motherfucking block. I can only stare at a blank piece of paper for so long. Or hold my guitar and hear radio silence. Or sit at the piano and let the keys taunt my lack of musical cooperation.
I can't write.
I don't want to write.
Everyone needs me to write.
I hate it.
So, I'll gladly work in the mailroom again.
"It's lunch time." Her voice rouses me out of my monotonous haze of sorting and stacking envelopes. Impatient is standing in the doorway of the mailroom.
I nod. "Yeah, thanks." I didn't bring anything from home this morning and I don't want to go to the deli around the corner. The last time I went in there, I got recognized ... and it was ugly. I felt claustrophobic and panicked. So, I'll settle for a few cigarettes out behind the building instead, even though my stomach is growling.
She holds up a bag. "There was a special at Antonio's. Buy two slices, get two free. Want half?"
I shrug. "Sure. You offering to feed me, dude?"
She laughs. "I'm offering to provide you food to eat. Feed your own damn self." Things have been so much easier between us lately. I can joke with her. She's not so uptight around me and we can actually laugh together.
We eat in silence sitting at a picnic table out back. When we're done, instead of leaving, she stays while I smoke a cigarette.
"I know what you're doing," she says flatly.
"Killing myself," I say, looking cynically at the cigarette in my hand.
"You're hiding," she says. "Why are you hiding here? Don't get me wrong, I love it here, working for Audrey. But you ... you shouldn't be here." It's straightforward Impatient.
"Why not?"
She sighs. "Gustov, you're stalling. You're wasting time. You're not living. You're not doing what you love."
"Which is?"
"Making music. You have this huge following; I saw them all at the shows," she pauses. "They love you." Her eyes are downcast, like the admission was hard for her.
I nod even though her eyes aren't on me. I'm accepting the compliment without verbal acknowledgment because that would kill this moment and make her embarrassed. She's so guarded, and I know that took a lot for her to say. "Yeah, well, writing music is a bit of a ... challenge ... right now."
Her eyes find mine again. "Challenge? What's that supposed to mean?"
I don't want to talk to her about this. I don't want to talk to anyone about this. "It's nothing."
She doesn't let it go. "It's not nothing. It's everything. It's your everything." Then she stands and leaves.
I'm left here pondering what in the hell just happened. She's right. I know she's right. I need to get my ass in gear.
But I can't.
Wednesday, October 11
(Gus)
"I think it's time for us to move out." Her voice is quiet. Unusually quiet even for her.
It's like a slap. A wake-up call. "What? Move out?"
She's mixing cookie batter in a big bowl on the kitchen counter. She bakes a lot. She doesn't eat much of it; I think she just does it to make everyone else happy. And it does make us happy because she's damn good at it. Though I think even if it tasted like shit I'd eat it, because it's her way of showing love. She has trouble letting love go freely, there's a block. It's not that she doesn't want to, because I feel it in the little things she does, but more that maybe she doesn't know how. She keeps her eyes on the bowl. "Paxton and I can't live here forever, Gustov. Audrey's been so kind to let us stay here this long."
"Ma loves having you here. Don't even worry about that." She does. Ma and I talk a lot and whenever she talks about them there's nothing but love in her voice. Ma's a giver and nothing makes her happier than helping people, especially when she becomes attached to them. She's a mom to everyone, selfless and so loving. She treats those she loves like family, because that's exactly what they are to her.
"I do. Besides, Paxton was an unexpected surprise for her. She didn't sign on to have him around too when she hired me and offered me a place to stay."
"Pax is fucking ace. He's a great kid."
She finally smiles and faces me. It's the first time she's looked at me all morning. "He is."
"It's Spare Ribs she can't stand," I add. I'm trying to make her laugh. Ma loves Spare Ribs. Too much. That goddamn cat has every human in this house wrapped around her cute little paw.