Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,28
at the table. I put two slices of pizza onto my plate. “How’s work?”
Jake lets out a low whistle. “It’s been busy. When I was able to get out of there tonight, I knew I had to see you. Then, I got your text back. Waiting another week to see you really wasn’t an option for me, so it might be cheap, but pizza it is.”
His response hits me right in the feels.
“It’s perfect, and thank you for coming over. I’m glad I get to see you before I leave.”
“Are you excited for vacation?”
“Yes. I can’t wait for the sunshine, the warmth, and just reading books on the beach all day. I also read that Curaçao is known for their snorkeling. Drew and I ordered these scuba masks online that are supposed to be good for that. So, yes, I’m excited.” I squeal.
“It sounds like it.” He laughs. “I’m jealous. I haven’t been on a vacation in years. My poor passport only has one stamp inside.”
“That’s one more than a lot of people have.”
He narrows his gaze at me. “It’s Canada. Come on, Misha.”
I can’t help but laugh at his expression, and he joins me. To my surprise, Jake stays and talks while I prepare the two apple pies and put them in the oven. While they’re baking, I get a text message from Drew.
Drew: 911. My bathroom.
“Uh-oh. Something’s wrong with Drew.” I grab my keys, and Jake follows me out the door and to Drew’s apartment across the hall.
As soon as I unlock and open the door, I yell his name, to which he calls out, “Misha, help me!”
Running down the hallway, I pause briefly at the bathroom door. “Please don’t let there be puke.”
When I push the door open, Drew is sitting in his bathtub, covered in a rash.
“Are you okay?”
“No.” He half-groans, half-cries.
“What’s wrong?” Jake enters the bathroom from behind me.
“You brought HAF J?” Drew yells at me.
“HAF J?” Jake asks.
My mind can’t make sense of the strange scene. “Are you in an oatmeal bath?”
Drew holds up two handfuls of the soggy oats. “Yes.”
“Why? What is wrong?” I’m starting to become pissed off because, obviously, he’s okay, and he scared the crap out of me.
He fists his hands into his black hair, leaving bits of oats in his strands. “Because I’m itchy! I have chicken pox, Misha!”
“Huh?” I cock my head to the side. “How in the hell did you get chicken pox at your age?”
“I didn’t get them as a kid. Somehow, I avoided that torture. I babysat my nephew almost two weeks ago for my sister while she and her husband went out for their anniversary, and he woke up the next morning, covered in bumps. My nephew gave me fucking chicken pox. So, here I am, a grown man, sitting in a bathtub full of oatmeal because everything on my body itches. Everything.”
I bite my tongue, containing the laughing fit begging to escape. “You poor thing. You’re going to be red, bumpy, and blotchy while we’re in Curaçao.”
He crosses his arms. “I can’t go to Curaçao. Are you insane? I’m miserable! That’s why I asked you to come over. I have to bail. Besides, there’s no way they’d let me on an international flight like this.”
As much as it sucks, he’s right. He’s going to be down for at least a week, if not longer. Traveling with chicken pox would be absolute torture.
“Okay. Did you get insurance on the trip? We’ll just get our money back, and we’ll plan it for some other time.”
“I opted for the airfare insurance but not the accommodations. I don’t want you to lose your money too. Take someone in my place.” He nods to Jake.
A vacation with Jake? Just the two of us?
The thought spikes my heart rate, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m nervous he’ll say no or excited at the possibility of him saying yes.
“Jake, it’s really short notice, but do you want to go on vacation for with me? I know work is super busy for you, so I won’t be offended if you can’t.”
Jake looks over my shoulder to Drew. “How much do I owe you for the trip? I can’t possibly go if I don’t pay you for it.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how much I spent on the entire trip. I was practically paid to go on this trip, so I could recommend this resort to my clients. You would be doing me a huge favor by