Concealed
A Gift
“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, flopping down on my bed and watching Minnie eat her dinner. “You know better than that, Minnie. What got into you?”
“Still talking to yourself?” Dad asked, walking by.
I sighed, shaking my head. “Looks like I’m making more brownies.”
“What happened this time?” he asked and sat at my desk.
“I was walking back from the coffee shop and we passed by Cameron’s place,” I said. “Minnie saw him in his doorway and went running to him. She tore right out of my hand, Dad! She’s never done that before!”
“Did she hurt him?”
I shut my eyes wearily. “She ripped straight through his screen door.”
He groaned. “Minnie,” he snapped but the dog just looked at him, tilting her head.
“He’s not mad,” I sighed. “In fact, he laughed. He said he was going to throw it away anyway.”
“You know who he is, don’t you?”
I tugged on my hair. “Maybe.”
He chuckled. “Do you have any of his music? I’d like to listen to it.”
“Sure,” I shrugged and dug out the three CDs Cameron has come out with since he started. “I was going to ask him for his autograph but there’s no way that’s happening.”
“How’d the emails go?” he asked.
I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling. “She sent me a list of ten,” I answered. “Five of them I’ve already contacted. I got two of them responding today saying they’d like to see my manuscript.”
“Keep at it, sweetheart,” he said as he stood back up. “And don’t listen to your brother.”
“Where is he?”
“The restaurant with your Mom.” I nodded. “You still not going to work there?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I love the restaurant and it’s great that Mom’s got it but it’ll just make Jim hate me more.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” he said. “He just….”
“Wishes I didn’t exist,” I interrupted. My phone rang before he could speak and he left, looking upset. “Hey, Rhonda,” I said into my phone.
“Did you email them?”
“Yeah. It looks a little promising but I’m not getting my hopes up again.”
“It’ll be fine,” she said. “Let me know if any want to meet up. I want to be there again.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Rhonda Knapp was my literary agent and my best friend. She was there when my seizures started and offered to be my agent for free until my job as a contractor became steadier. I was very lucky to have her.
“I’ll email you the responses I get,” I said.
“Sounds groovy. I need to go. Have a good evening.”
“You, too,” I said and hung up.
After getting dressed for bed, I looked out my window. I saw Cameron pull into his driveway but his parents didn’t get out. I assumed they were gone or at a hotel. My light was off and it would seem it was a good thing because he looked right at my window. I blushed. Did he know I was watching or did he know it was my room?
I shook my head and climbed into bed. I heard my brother come in and he stopped at my door. He cleared his throat.
“Mom’s making me take you to learn the kitchens if you want,” he said.
“No thanks,” I muttered.
“Good,” he snapped.
I closed my eyes and tried not to shout at him. How many times do I have to tell him that I had no interest in the restaurant? Even growing up, Jim didn’t like me. It would seem that me leaving didn’t have the desired result….
-
I finished the brownies and put it on Cameron’s porch. Before I could move, his door opened and he smirked at me. Minnie pulled on my leash as I blushed. He scratched Minnie’s ears.
“I thought I’d find you out here,” he said. I handed him the brownies. “Are you going to say something?”
“Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s just early and-”
“It’s ten in the morning,” he said and I cleared my throat.
“Yes, well….”
“You know who I am.”
I looked up at him, biting my lip. He was smiling now, his head tilted.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It’s obvious you’re not wanting to be recognized,” I said, avoiding his eyes.
“Come inside,” he said suddenly.
“What?” I asked and he laughed, opening the door wider.
“Come inside,” he repeated. “I wanna show you something.”
“Okay,” I said slowly and stepped to the side.
“Out on a walk?” he asked, passing by me and leading the way into his house.
Everything looked like ours except the countertops looked newer and he had different appliances. We went upstairs and he passed Minnie a bone with a ribbon made of bacon and I laughed as she lunged for it.
“Thank you,” I said. “And yes.”
We were in what must have been his studio. There was a keyboard set up by the window with paper on the stand. He had a desk with a laptop and several small tables with even more paper. A desk chair sat in front of the desk and there was another chair he pointed at.
“Sit,” he said.
“Um….”
He chuckled. “Don’t be intimidated. I don’t bite.”
“Of course,” I said and sat down, aware my face was probably permanently red.
He sat down at his desk and I watched as Minnie went to town on the bone.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, gesturing at the bone.
“Ah, we were at PetSmart and I saw it,” he shrugged, typing something on his laptop.
I sat there awkwardly while he printed something out. It was weird being in my favorite artist’s house; even more so that he gave my dog a gift.
“Tell me about you and Minnie while my printer freezes,” he said, pounding the machine with his fist.
I laughed. “There’s not much to tell, really. We got her when she was a puppy and she’s been with me ever since.”
He glanced at me. This time he was the one that looked awkward.
“Can I ask…?”
“PTSD,” I said quietly. “I get seizures and anxiety attacks from it.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“We put her through all the courses,” I continued, toying with her leash. “She’s one of the best in this part of the state.”
“You must be proud.”
“I am.”
“Finally,” he said when it spat out a piece of paper. He spun in the chair and held it up. “Now, I remember what it was like trying to get my first demo out there.” He pushed the paper in my lap. “I know there’s not a lot but it’s something. The first two are medium sized, the last one is small.”
My jaw dropped. “Are these publishers?” I whispered and he nodded, smiling.
“Yep. I called my manager and he sent me those. Do you have an agent? Because the last two don’t take unsolicited manuscripts.”
“Yeah, I do,” I said and smiled. “Thank you very much for this.”
“I just have one condition,” he said. “I get to read the book when it gets printed.”
“If it gets printed,” I mumbled. “I’ve been at this for over a year, Mr. Drake.”
“Call me Cameron,” he said. “Getting published always takes a long time. It took me six months just to find an agent, let alone get someone to listen to the song.”
“Really? In the booklet on your first CD, it said you were an immediate success.”
He laughed. “Yeah, after I got it in someone’s ear, it was.”
“Well, thank you for this,” I said. “I’ll get these to my agent and she can work her magic. Even though they haven’t accepted the manuscript, everyone she’s contacted has read it.”
“What’s it about?” he asked, passing me a soda from a mini fridge.
I must be dreaming.
I popped the tab and took a sip before answering.
“It’s about a young woman who is trying to find her way in life,” I said. “She’s stuck in this mold, though, and her love for her father is what is holding her back. Then she meets a young man who helps her find herself.”
“Sounds awesome,” he said and he sounded sincere. He finished his drink, still watching me. “Do you work at the restaurant?”
“How’d you know we had a restaurant?”
“That’s where my parents and I went to eat last night. Your mom was our server.”
“Oh. No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
I sighed and stood up. “We should probably head back home. I need to clean up everything.”
“Okay,” he said and I thought I heard a bit of disappointment in his voice. “We’ll leave the bone here,” he added as we walked downstairs and I realized I had left it.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer until he got me to my door. He gave me a crooked smile.
“To give you a reason to come back,” he said.
I blushed as he winked and walked back to his house, putting his hands in his pockets casually. I opened the door, shaking, and my mom looked worried.
“Are you all right?” she asked then looked at Minnie. “Why isn’t she alerting!? You look like you’re going to have a seizure!”
“I-I’m not,” I breathed. “I just- I need to clean up from the brownies.”
“What happened?”
I cleared my throat and showed her the list.
“Cameron printed this out for me,” I said and she beamed. “He and his manager know them. I don’t know how. Anyway, I’m going to send those to Rhonda and see if she can pull some strings.”
“That was very nice of him,” she said.
“Yeah, it was,” I said. “Well, I’m gonna clean up and then get some rest. I’m feeling a little overdone.”
She frowned. “Go rest now. Don’t worry about the kitchen.”
“But-”
She ignored me and pushed me gently up the stairs. I sighed and got out of my shoes. When I looked out my window, the one above his garage was open. It was his bedroom! He was unpacking and I climbed into bed, making a big effort to stay laying down and not watching him.
“Still talking to yourself?” Dad asked, walking by.
I sighed, shaking my head. “Looks like I’m making more brownies.”
“What happened this time?” he asked and sat at my desk.
“I was walking back from the coffee shop and we passed by Cameron’s place,” I said. “Minnie saw him in his doorway and went running to him. She tore right out of my hand, Dad! She’s never done that before!”
“Did she hurt him?”
I shut my eyes wearily. “She ripped straight through his screen door.”
He groaned. “Minnie,” he snapped but the dog just looked at him, tilting her head.
“He’s not mad,” I sighed. “In fact, he laughed. He said he was going to throw it away anyway.”
“You know who he is, don’t you?”
I tugged on my hair. “Maybe.”
He chuckled. “Do you have any of his music? I’d like to listen to it.”
“Sure,” I shrugged and dug out the three CDs Cameron has come out with since he started. “I was going to ask him for his autograph but there’s no way that’s happening.”
“How’d the emails go?” he asked.
I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling. “She sent me a list of ten,” I answered. “Five of them I’ve already contacted. I got two of them responding today saying they’d like to see my manuscript.”
“Keep at it, sweetheart,” he said as he stood back up. “And don’t listen to your brother.”
“Where is he?”
“The restaurant with your Mom.” I nodded. “You still not going to work there?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I love the restaurant and it’s great that Mom’s got it but it’ll just make Jim hate me more.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” he said. “He just….”
“Wishes I didn’t exist,” I interrupted. My phone rang before he could speak and he left, looking upset. “Hey, Rhonda,” I said into my phone.
“Did you email them?”
“Yeah. It looks a little promising but I’m not getting my hopes up again.”
“It’ll be fine,” she said. “Let me know if any want to meet up. I want to be there again.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Rhonda Knapp was my literary agent and my best friend. She was there when my seizures started and offered to be my agent for free until my job as a contractor became steadier. I was very lucky to have her.
“I’ll email you the responses I get,” I said.
“Sounds groovy. I need to go. Have a good evening.”
“You, too,” I said and hung up.
After getting dressed for bed, I looked out my window. I saw Cameron pull into his driveway but his parents didn’t get out. I assumed they were gone or at a hotel. My light was off and it would seem it was a good thing because he looked right at my window. I blushed. Did he know I was watching or did he know it was my room?
I shook my head and climbed into bed. I heard my brother come in and he stopped at my door. He cleared his throat.
“Mom’s making me take you to learn the kitchens if you want,” he said.
“No thanks,” I muttered.
“Good,” he snapped.
I closed my eyes and tried not to shout at him. How many times do I have to tell him that I had no interest in the restaurant? Even growing up, Jim didn’t like me. It would seem that me leaving didn’t have the desired result….
-
I finished the brownies and put it on Cameron’s porch. Before I could move, his door opened and he smirked at me. Minnie pulled on my leash as I blushed. He scratched Minnie’s ears.
“I thought I’d find you out here,” he said. I handed him the brownies. “Are you going to say something?”
“Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s just early and-”
“It’s ten in the morning,” he said and I cleared my throat.
“Yes, well….”
“You know who I am.”
I looked up at him, biting my lip. He was smiling now, his head tilted.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It’s obvious you’re not wanting to be recognized,” I said, avoiding his eyes.
“Come inside,” he said suddenly.
“What?” I asked and he laughed, opening the door wider.
“Come inside,” he repeated. “I wanna show you something.”
“Okay,” I said slowly and stepped to the side.
“Out on a walk?” he asked, passing by me and leading the way into his house.
Everything looked like ours except the countertops looked newer and he had different appliances. We went upstairs and he passed Minnie a bone with a ribbon made of bacon and I laughed as she lunged for it.
“Thank you,” I said. “And yes.”
We were in what must have been his studio. There was a keyboard set up by the window with paper on the stand. He had a desk with a laptop and several small tables with even more paper. A desk chair sat in front of the desk and there was another chair he pointed at.
“Sit,” he said.
“Um….”
He chuckled. “Don’t be intimidated. I don’t bite.”
“Of course,” I said and sat down, aware my face was probably permanently red.
He sat down at his desk and I watched as Minnie went to town on the bone.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, gesturing at the bone.
“Ah, we were at PetSmart and I saw it,” he shrugged, typing something on his laptop.
I sat there awkwardly while he printed something out. It was weird being in my favorite artist’s house; even more so that he gave my dog a gift.
“Tell me about you and Minnie while my printer freezes,” he said, pounding the machine with his fist.
I laughed. “There’s not much to tell, really. We got her when she was a puppy and she’s been with me ever since.”
He glanced at me. This time he was the one that looked awkward.
“Can I ask…?”
“PTSD,” I said quietly. “I get seizures and anxiety attacks from it.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“We put her through all the courses,” I continued, toying with her leash. “She’s one of the best in this part of the state.”
“You must be proud.”
“I am.”
“Finally,” he said when it spat out a piece of paper. He spun in the chair and held it up. “Now, I remember what it was like trying to get my first demo out there.” He pushed the paper in my lap. “I know there’s not a lot but it’s something. The first two are medium sized, the last one is small.”
My jaw dropped. “Are these publishers?” I whispered and he nodded, smiling.
“Yep. I called my manager and he sent me those. Do you have an agent? Because the last two don’t take unsolicited manuscripts.”
“Yeah, I do,” I said and smiled. “Thank you very much for this.”
“I just have one condition,” he said. “I get to read the book when it gets printed.”
“If it gets printed,” I mumbled. “I’ve been at this for over a year, Mr. Drake.”
“Call me Cameron,” he said. “Getting published always takes a long time. It took me six months just to find an agent, let alone get someone to listen to the song.”
“Really? In the booklet on your first CD, it said you were an immediate success.”
He laughed. “Yeah, after I got it in someone’s ear, it was.”
“Well, thank you for this,” I said. “I’ll get these to my agent and she can work her magic. Even though they haven’t accepted the manuscript, everyone she’s contacted has read it.”
“What’s it about?” he asked, passing me a soda from a mini fridge.
I must be dreaming.
I popped the tab and took a sip before answering.
“It’s about a young woman who is trying to find her way in life,” I said. “She’s stuck in this mold, though, and her love for her father is what is holding her back. Then she meets a young man who helps her find herself.”
“Sounds awesome,” he said and he sounded sincere. He finished his drink, still watching me. “Do you work at the restaurant?”
“How’d you know we had a restaurant?”
“That’s where my parents and I went to eat last night. Your mom was our server.”
“Oh. No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
I sighed and stood up. “We should probably head back home. I need to clean up everything.”
“Okay,” he said and I thought I heard a bit of disappointment in his voice. “We’ll leave the bone here,” he added as we walked downstairs and I realized I had left it.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer until he got me to my door. He gave me a crooked smile.
“To give you a reason to come back,” he said.
I blushed as he winked and walked back to his house, putting his hands in his pockets casually. I opened the door, shaking, and my mom looked worried.
“Are you all right?” she asked then looked at Minnie. “Why isn’t she alerting!? You look like you’re going to have a seizure!”
“I-I’m not,” I breathed. “I just- I need to clean up from the brownies.”
“What happened?”
I cleared my throat and showed her the list.
“Cameron printed this out for me,” I said and she beamed. “He and his manager know them. I don’t know how. Anyway, I’m going to send those to Rhonda and see if she can pull some strings.”
“That was very nice of him,” she said.
“Yeah, it was,” I said. “Well, I’m gonna clean up and then get some rest. I’m feeling a little overdone.”
She frowned. “Go rest now. Don’t worry about the kitchen.”
“But-”
She ignored me and pushed me gently up the stairs. I sighed and got out of my shoes. When I looked out my window, the one above his garage was open. It was his bedroom! He was unpacking and I climbed into bed, making a big effort to stay laying down and not watching him.