Cake

CAKE


Rachel is twenty-nine years old and she’s never been in love. She’s one of those girls that people always say, “I can’t believe you’re still single” to and it never makes her feel any better. Because it never seems to change things. There’s wisdom and vulnerability in her eyes, but if she smiles wide enough, you just might miss it. She’s not smiling now. She never does when she looks in the mirror.
She redraws a line around her lips with a liner, then scrutinizes herself. Yet again. Frowns. Rubs her lipstick off with a kleenex and grabs another color. The phone rings before she can decide between a brown or a red.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Are you nervous?”
It’s her best friend, Kristine.
“Of course I’m nervous,“ Rachel says.
“Are you dressed?”
“Of course I’m not dressed.”
Rachel moves to her full-length mirror. Stands before it in the perfect date outfit: skirt, tank top, cardigan and shoes low enough to look like she’s not trying too hard. She turns sideways. Touches her stomach self-consciously, then tries to suck it in. It doesn’t work.
“You’ll be fine, “ Kristine says, soothing, “But you better hurry, he’s gonna be there any minute.”
Rachel pulls off her skirt and tosses it on top of a growing pile on her bed. She’s on her fifth outfit. She wants to look good. It feels important.
The doorbell rings. Now she rushes to the closet and grabs another skirt. She worries it’s not right, but quickly slips it on. The doorbell rings again.
“Coming!”
She straightens the skirt, does another check in the mirror-- hair, face, outfit, then heads to the door.

Rachel opens the door to Jason, handsome and intense-looking: Even though he’s not wearing a suit, you can tell he’s someone who does. Everything’s expensive and everything matches. The two of them look at each other awkwardly.
“Hi. I’m almost ready, “ Rachel says, “I just have to grab a few things.”
Jason steps inside. Rachel’s cat hisses at him. Jason doesn’t seem to notice. He follows her into the living room.

Rachel straightens up as she walks, kicking things out of the way, placing stuff in piles.
“So this is my place,“ she says, “it’s kind of a mess. And small. I mean, compared to your house... “
Jason takes a seat on the couch. His knees scrunch up against him. Like an SUV driver squished into an economy car.
“I still have stuff I want to do to it... “ she continues, “you know, make it bigger.”
She gives a small laugh, but Jason doesn’t seem to get it. So she just keeps on talking.
“Sorry. I think the pain killers the gynecologist gave me have started to kick in.”
She takes a seat in a chair across from him. Willing him to fit into her world.
“So. Should we go?” he says, “I mean, we don’t want to be late.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Let’s go. Don’t want them to start without us.”

Jason and Rachel drive in silence. Except for ‘NSync who are singing “Bye Bye Bye” on the radio. Rachel hates N’Sync.
“So. Your car is nice and clean, “ she says.
Jason doesn’t answer.
She tries to roll down the window, but it’s locked.
“Would you mind rolling down the window? I could use some air.”
Jason hits the button.
“Thanks.”
Again, he doesn’t say anything. She looks over. He’s brooding.
“Are you okay?” She’s concerned. Thinking that maybe this might be affecting him, too.
He sighs loudly.
“Actually, not really. I’m worried about Lulu. I don’t think she’s feeling very well. This morning she didn’t eat her breakfast and she was acting kind of strange on her walk.”
Rachel doesn’t know what to say to that.
“Maybe she’s pregnant, too.” Feeling a little nauseous.
“No. I think something’s really wrong with her, “ he says, “A squirrel ran in front of us and she didn’t even react.”
Rachel’s head is out the window. She’s about to get sick.
“I took her to the vet but they didn’t find anything. I think I might take her to another vet for a second opinion. I feel so terrible for her. I just wish I could do something to make her feel better.”
Rachel brings her head back in. Wipes the corners of her mouth and tries not to smudge her lipstick. She turns to him.
“Yeah, it’s hard to watch someone you care about suffer like that. Try not to let it get to you.”


Rachel and Jason are the only ones on the elevator. They’re both silent, staring at the numbers. Suddenly self-conscious, Rachel shifts her gaze to the floor.
“So. Have you ever been through something like this before?” she asks.
“Once,” he says.
She looks up. Surprised. And not sure what to do with that information. She forces a smile.
“Well, I guess that means you can hold my hand through it.”
Jason’s hand doesn’t move an inch.

The elevator stops at their floor.
“Did you eat?” he suddenly asks as they get off.
“No, I wasn’t hungry.”
She gestures, then leads him down the hall to the doctor’s office.

The waiting room is decorated in festive Christmas fare. It’s packed with women, some pregnant, some not, some with husbands, some without, and a few holding babies. Rachel and Jason enter and take a seat. Rachel looks around, uncomfortable.
“Magazine?”
Jason offers her an issue of “Working Mother.”
“No thanks, “ Rachel says, “ I don’t think I could concentrate right now.”
Jason shrugs and starts to read. Rachel slowly scans the room. Catches the eye of a very pregnant woman. Quickly looks away. Watches a mother reading to a little girl. A nurse enters, clipboard in hand.
“Heel,” the nurse says.
Rachel stands. In unison, all the women turn to look at her.
“Rachel Heel?” the nurse says.
Jason raises his eyes then, catches the gaze of a stunning woman in the corner. Rachel notices him wink at her out of the corner of her eye as she marches obediently after the nurse.

All Rachel hears is a sucking sound. The pain is awful, but the sound is worse. Once it’s over, the nurse tells her to stay there for a while, then asks, “Does he want to come in?”
“I don’t know,“ Rachel says, “If he wants to.”
It surprises her when he does. And she starts to cry.


Before they leave, the office assistant asks Rachel to settle her bill. Still woozy from the anesthesia, she clumsily searches through her purse. Nearly falls over.
“I can get it,“ Jason says, not very convincing.
But Rachel insists. She’s used to paying.

In the elevator, Rachel continues to sway. Desperately tries to steady herself. She wants something. Anything not to feel so empty. But there’s nothing there.
“I got you cake, “ Jason says. “ I didn’t know what kind you like, so I got you three different kinds. She looks blankly at the pieces of cake. Each perfectly frosted in its own individual plastic container.
“Thank you,“ she says. Her words come out slow, almost a slur.

When they get to her apartment, Jason leads Rachel to the couch. She’s still pretty out of it. After situating her, he turns to make his escape.
“You’re leaving me?” she says. Confused.
“I have things to do,“ he says, “I’ll call you.”
The front door closes behind him with a loud click. Rachel looks at the flowers she bought herself that sit on the coffee table. Then passes out.


When Rachel wakes up, it’s dark outside. She’s disoriented. Alone. And hungry. Still unsteady, she makes for the kitchen. Opens the fridge in quest of food. It’s empty save for two Diet Cokes and three pieces of cake. She looks at the cake curiously. For a moment, wondering how it got there. And then she remembers.

The phone rings. Rachel jumps. Thinking it could be Jason, hoping it will be Jason, she stumbles for the phone. But it’s not him. It’s Kristine.
I can’t believe he left you,“ Kristine says. “What if there was a fire or something?”
Rachel tries to make excuses for him. He’s a very busy man.
“He bought me cake, “ she says, trying to make it sound like the gesture meant something.
“But you don’t eat cake,“ Kristine says.
The words just sit there for a moment.
“I know.”