Market Street (27 page)

Cassie sat on the window seat and tucked her feet underneath her. She looked down on the street. The streetlights were on and the sidewalk was bathed in a yellow light. She saw a couple walking arm in arm, leaning into each other and laughing.

James carried a TV dinner tray with a carton of vanilla ice cream.

“The TV dinner tray is one of my favorite inventions.” James handed Cassie a bowl and spoon. “You can eat alone and never get lonely. Jon Stewart is always there to keep you company. You go first; what does my fortune cookie say?”

“‘You can never be too kind,’” Cassie read the thin white paper. “‘Your kindness will be returned in gold.’”

“Very wise.” James sat on the window seat next to her. “My turn. ‘Plant happiness like a small seed. Soon it will flower.’”

James put his glasses on the TV tray and leaned toward Cassie. He tucked her hair behind her ears and kissed her softly on the mouth. He leaned against the window and kissed her harder, his lips wet and sweet.

Cassie felt the pressure of his mouth on hers, of his hand on the small of her back. She kissed him back. His body was thin and hard and smelled like peppermint soap. She leaned against the window and the bowl of ice cream turned over in her lap and clattered to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” She pulled away and hunched down on the rug. “I’ve ruined your rug. I’ll get a paper towel.” She ran to the kitchen and returned with a roll of paper towels. She mopped up the ice cream, keeping her eyes on the floor so James wouldn’t see her blush. “I really should go,” she said when the puddle of ice cream had disappeared.

“You can’t go.” James sat on the rug next to her. “Your skirt is wet, it’s see-through.”

“James, I don’t think…” She stumbled.

“Don’t think.” He pulled her up and led her to the bedroom. “I’ll think for both of us.”

James closed the curtains and put his arms around Cassie. He kissed her tentatively, like a boy on a prom date, until she started to kiss him back. Cassie waited while he unzipped her dress, feeling his cold fingers on her naked back.

He pulled the dress over her head and unsnapped her bra. He touched her breasts, drawing circles around her nipples, and then he pulled off her panties and let them drop to the floor.

“I knew you were beautiful.” James unzipped his pants, took off his shirt, and pulled her onto the bed. His body was thin and hard like a cross-country runner. He ran his fingers over her stomach, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts. He pushed her back and studied her face, tracing her nose and mouth with her finger.

Cassie’s legs opened by themselves, her body straining to reach him. James turned away and fumbled in the bedside drawer. Then he turned back, found her hands, and held them tightly. He covered her body with his and pushed deep inside her.

Cassie came first, a long orgasm that crept up on her, not allowing her to back away. James waited till she stopped shaking and then he pushed harder, gasping, falling on her breasts, and shattered against her.

James turned on his side and pulled her close to him. Cassie lay with her eyes open, hearing his breathing rise and fall. She felt the pieces of her heart rearrange themselves like a Rubik’s cube. She tucked herself against his chest, closed her eyes, and slept.

18.

Cassie lay
on her stomach and opened her eyes. The sun streamed in the bay window, making a pattern on the rug. Her body felt thick and sleepy, like she had spent the night in a warm bath. She turned over and leaned against the pillows, listening to sounds in the kitchen.

She heard the fridge open and close, and the toaster pop. She heard glasses clinking and a drawer opening. She closed her eyes and pictured James on top of her, his body hard and narrow. She remembered the way he held her hands when he entered her, as if he was afraid she would leap off the bed, and felt a tiny flicker of desire.

“I don’t have a lot of breakfast foods.” James put a TV dinner tray on the bed. It held a glass of orange juice, a slice of wheat toast, and a bowl of Froot Loops.

“You eat Froot Loops?” Cassie giggled.

“My grandmother used to feed them to the cows as a treat.” James poured milk in the bowl. “Smart cows, they’re delicious. And they make the milk turn colors.”

“All these years I’ve been missing out.” Cassie ate a spoonful of Froot Loops.

“I’m the one who’s been missing out.” James sat on the bed and kissed her softly on the mouth.

“I should go.” Cassie pulled away. “I’ll be late for work.”

“Take the day off.” James put the tray on the floor. “Let’s pull a Ferris Bueller.”

“A what?”

“When I was a kid we watched that movie
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
a hundred times. It was filmed in Chicago. Ferris calls in sick to the principal’s office and spends the day with his girlfriend and his best friend exploring the city. The movie was the director’s love letter to Chicago.”

“Alexis was brilliant at finding excuses for us to leave school early. She had four straight years of orthodontist appointments. We used to sit at Fisherman’s Wharf and eat ice cream with the tourists.”

“Please, Cassie. I want to spend the day with you.” He lay down and ran his hands up and down her back.

“Last night was wonderful.” She felt his fingers play on her spine. “But you’re leaving in a week.”

“Think of it as my good-bye present.” James pulled himself on his elbow. “We’ll ride the cable cars and climb to the top of Coit Tower. We’ll stuff ourselves with sourdough bread and Ghirardelli chocolate.”

“My mother did behave atrociously yesterday.” Cassie leaned back against the pillow.

“You’re doing a good deed. You’re showing a midwestern boy the delights of San Francisco.” James circled her breast with his thumb.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the aquarium on a weekday.” Cassie closed her eyes. “I used to have a mad crush on the penguins.”

“Call your mother, but first we have a little unfinished business.” He climbed on top of her and covered her mouth with his.

“I thought we finished it pretty well last night.” Cassie giggled, feeling him hard against her stomach.

“Last night was the hors d’oeuvres,” he whispered in her ear. “This morning we’re having the main course.”

*   *   *

“I told
my mother I had a terrible cold.” Cassie laughed as they walked into the sunlight. The morning was warm and the sky was a bright, cloudless blue. They had written out an itinerary, brainstorming their favorite places and foods. James wanted to climb Lombard Street, “the world’s crookedest street,” and see
The Thinker
at the Palace Legion of Honor. Cassie wanted to visit the Botanical Garden at Golden Gate Park and eat fried calamari in Chinatown.

“She said I sounded awful, and I should stay in bed.”

“We could stay in bed.” James laced his fingers through hers. “Or we could build up an appetite walking the city and go back to bed for dessert.”

“You are a foodie,” Cassie teased. “I’m going to cure your fast food addiction.”

“You could show me how to cook dinner.” James pulled her close as they waited to cross the street. “And we could have another sleepover.”

“We’re having one blowout day of fun.” Cassie shook her head. “Then I have to go back to work and you have to get ready for Chicago.”

“One day of fun. Ready?” He took her hand.

“Ready.” Cassie nodded.

*   *   *

They rode
the cable car to the top of Lombard Street, leaning out of the car and pulling the bell at each stop. The cable car driver rolled his eyes and muttered something about young people not obeying the rules. James slipped him a ten-dollar bill and stood at the front of the cable car, singing “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” for the tourists.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Cassie laughed after they jumped off.

“No one asked for my autograph, or an encore.” James grinned. “But I’ve always wanted to sing on a cable car. Like Gene Kelly in
Singin’ in the Rain
.”

“My mother used to watch old movies at night after I went to bed,” Cassie said. “She was crazy about Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant. We ate at Ernie’s so she could see the photographs of movie stars on the wall.”

“My mother took me to Ernie’s every time we visited San Francisco. She made me wear a shirt and tie and taught me how to eat escargots. I fell in love with the little girls who came to dinner with their parents. They had their hair in pigtails and wore white socks and shiny leather shoes. Even as a kid I knew California girls were beautiful, so tan and freckled from the sun.”

“I thought boys were icky as snails,” Cassie replied as they reached the top of Lombard Street. “I was only interested in Cabbage Patch Kids. I believed they were born in real gardens.”

“The tourist guide says you have to run all the way down Lombard Street without stopping.” James stood looking out at the bay. The street rolled out crazily below them, small clumps of grass growing between the cobblestones.

“It’s pretty steep,” Cassie replied nervously.

“It’s Ferris Bueller Day, we have to take chances.” James grabbed her hand. “Pretend we’re seventeen.”

“No bad knees, sore ankles, or cheating husbands?” Cassie giggled.

“You need to laugh more often.” James kissed her on the forehead. “First one to the bottom gets to choose where we have lunch.”

“I’m going to win.” Cassie tightened her sandal straps. “Because we are not eating at McDonald’s.”

They ran side by side down the cobblestones. Cassie almost tripped and had to stop and adjust her shoes. She watched carloads of tourists climb the hill. She saw James ahead of her, waving his arms like a schoolboy, and felt almost happy. She started running again and reached the bottom breathing hard, her hair flying behind her.

“I won.” James grinned.

“I had a wardrobe malfunction.” Cassie frowned. “It’s impossible to run in Tory Burch sandals.”

“No excuses.” James grabbed her hand. “Let’s go to Pier 39 and eat candy floss and ride the bumper cars, then we’ll have lunch.”

They milled around Fisherman’s Wharf, feeding each other cotton candy, buying souvenir key chains with pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge. They took pictures in the photo booth and rammed into each other with bumper cars. They listened to a musician play the guitar and watched a juggler on stilts keep a dozen balls in the air.

*   *   *

“Do you
miss Emily?” Cassie asked. They sat on the balcony at McCormick & Kuletto’s, eating bowls of clam chowder and crusts of sourdough bread. The fog crept in and Cassie felt suddenly cold. She was still wearing the thin cotton dress she put on yesterday morning.

James put his spoon down and looked at her earnestly. “I miss having someone to share things with. I miss the way Emily fixed a daiquiri. But I can’t miss someone who lied to me. Marriage is about two people against the world. I’m lucky I got out early.”

“I wish I could forget Aidan.” Cassie gulped down the hot soup. She immediately regretted saying his name; it tainted the air like spoiled fish. But he was always hovering before her. She felt like she acted to win his approval, to show him she could survive without him.

“You don’t need to forget.” James shook his head. “You need to be loved.”

“That’s why I shouldn’t go out in public.” Cassie wiped her eyes, trying to smile. “I still get emotional, like someone who’s pregnant and sees a kitten.”

“Excuse me, please.” An old Japanese woman wearing a bright red shirt and wide-brimmed hat approached their table. “Can you take picture, please?” She pointed to the adjoining table. A man wearing a Giants baseball cap put down his spoon and nodded shyly.

James hopped up and snapped photos of the couple. The old man put his arm around his wife and they showed yellowed teeth for the camera.

“Anniversary, forty years.” The woman took back her camera. “I take one of you to say thank you.” She motioned for Cassie and James to sit together. James handed her his iPhone and the woman clicked and studied the picture. “Very pretty girlfriend.” She handed the phone back to James. “You ask her and she say yes. You lucky, you get forty years.”

“I think we should leave,” Cassie said awkwardly when the woman returned to her table. Suddenly she wondered what she was doing, having sex with James, holding hands, and running around the city like a schoolgirl.

“Cassie.” James reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You can’t chicken out. It’s Ferris Bueller Day and we have half a day left.”

“Maybe I should go home. I haven’t even changed my clothes.” Cassie stood up.

“You pick the next place we go, your favorite spot in the city.” James brushed her hair from her face.

Cassie turned to leave. The old couple bowed and waved cheerfully. “Okay,” she said. “But first I need to buy a sweatshirt. I’m freezing.”

*   *   *

They caught
the bus to Golden Gate Park. Cassie leaned against James, trying to regain her sense of happiness. She closed her eyes and tried to erase the images of Aidan that floated in her head: Aidan wearing socks and an apron in the kitchen; Aidan standing in a towel, shaking his hair after a shower; Aidan sitting by the fireplace sorting through CDs.

Cassie imagined eating ice cream with Alexis and sharing Chinese takeout with James. She pictured Gregory’s giant murals on the wall of the emporium and Axel’s gorgeous bouquets that greeted her when she went to work. If she could fill her brain with things that made her happy, the pictures of Aidan might fade.

*   *   *

“My mother
and I used to come here every Sunday,” Cassie said as they entered the Botanical Garden. It was like walking into a Matisse painting. Flowers and plants created a kaleidoscope of colors. A white pagoda had a line of tourists waiting to get in, and green signs explained the names and origins of flowers.

“Fenton’s was closed on Sundays and my mother thought outdoor exercise was very important. I think this is where I fell in love with gardens. I was like Alice in Wonderland after she fell down the rabbit hole. I used to talk to the flowers.”