Kiki shrugged, saying nothing in response.
“Yep,” said Aimee cheerily, now back in the mood to hang out with girlfriends. “Oh, wait a sec. I gotta get something.” She went over to a cabinet and reached inside, pulling out a cookbook. It was thick and heavy. Aimee felt Kiki watching her, but she didn’t care. She almost wanted her to see, so she could share the secret with someone else. She opened up the book to reveal the hollowed out interior. Inside was the manila envelope with the money in one large stack inside.
Kiki smiled. “I’ve seen that in movies but never in real life before. I hide my cash in a laundry detergent box.”
“I’ll bet that makes it smell good.”
“It does,” said Kiki grinning.
“Well, I had to think of the one place that neither Jack nor Tiffany would look and the last thing either one of them would take, and this was it.”
“Who’s Tiffany?”
“She’s the practically prepubescent twit that works for my ex and who also now happens to be engaged to him and carrying his baby.”
“What the hell?”
Aimee looked up at her, an embarrassed expression on her face. “Awful, right?”
“He’s worse than a dick. He’s a man whore.”
Aimee laughed. “Yes. That and more.”
“You mean to tell me that they come into your house and take your stuff?” Kiki sounded incredulous.
“Oh, this isn’t my house,” said Aimee bitterly. “Jack is fond of telling me every time he comes over that it’s his house. He’s only letting me stay here out of the kindness of his heart.”
“And they take your stuff? Him and his girlfriend?”
“Yes, and they take my stuff. But neither of them cook, so they leave the kitchen alone.”
“You realize what has to happen now, right?” asked Kiki, a serious expression on her face.
“Uh, no. Other than going out for drinks, you mean?”
“Yeah. I mean, what needs to happen in your life right now.”
“Yes. I do, actually. I need to get a job. I need to get an apartment. And I need to get a life ... and not necessarily in that order.”
“Okay, well I can help with two out of the three.” Kiki leaned on the counter, giving Aimee a penetrating stare. “How would you feel about moving in with me? Temporarily, I mean.”
Aimee was shocked into silence. And paralysis. She just stood there, her mouth partway open.
Kiki bent down a little, peering into her face. “Hello? Anyone home?”
Aimee shook her head a little to clear the fog. “What? Oh, sorry. I thought. Never mind.”
“You heard me, Aimee, don’t play games. Say yes. You need a place to stay, and I have an extra room. Plus, you planned on paying rent anyway – you can just pay it to me.”
“Seriously?” Aimee didn’t want to hope too hard that this could be true. She had zero misgivings about moving in with Kiki, regardless of the fact that it would make her ex completely insane. Maybe that was part of the attraction, actually.
“Seriously. Let’s do this. We can put your stuff in the car right now.”
Aimee bit her lip, not usually one for making spontaneous decisions.
“It’s in a gated community and no one can get in without permission from a resident. And I have a fully alarmed place that’s wired into the police department.”
“Where do I sign?” asked Aimee, a grin dawning across her face. She’d had enough of the surprise visits from Jack to last a lifetime. The idea that she could be safe from his prying eyes and demands made her nearly giddy with pleasure.
“Okay, let’s hurry. I don’t want to be too late to O’Malleys,” said Kiki.
Aimee walked with her friend to the front hall.
“This stuff?” Kiki asked, pointing to the boxes.
“Yes. That’s it.”
“What about your cookbook?”
“Oh, shit ... I mean shoot. Okay, be right back.” Aimee took off in a rush to the kitchen. She heard Kiki yelling from the front door.
“Grab your cooking stuff! I don’t have any!”
“Oh man, oh man, oh man,” muttered Aimee, grabbing a box from the corner of the room where she had packing central set up. This was going to be box number eleven.
In went the money book. Then six other cookbooks that Aimee couldn’t live without. Next went her favorite mixing bowls – three of them – and several wisks, spoons and her set of very expensive gourmet knives. She grabbed her pastry brushes and rolling pins out of one drawer and then looked around the kitchen in desperation. She had so many things in here that she used. What to take and what to leave? The cookie sheets and jelly roll pans weren’t going to fit in the box.