19. Cheesecake

Song: Death Cab for Cutie - Marching Bands of Manhattan


ELLA'S POV


Plane rides are never fun. I should know. I fly frequently enough, between Montreal, Pittsburgh, New York and St. Bart’s. So by now I should have adjusted to this travelling boredom, but travelling alone is different. It's no fun. There's only so much you can do. Despite endless Sudoku puzzles, in flight entertainment, iPod, laptop and countless magazines, nothing takes away the boredom of flying toute seule. People watching is always good; when Felix and I were younger we always used to try and guess where people were going, what they did for a living, their lives etc. But now there’s only so long you can stare at the same people on the same flight as you without drawing attention to the fact you're staring at them.

However I’m on my way to New York, my second home, and second favourite city after Montréal to see my best friend, my twin brother, Felix. The last time I saw him was Christmas which is a horrible thought. We’re really close and throughout high school and cegep we stuck together, we were never separated. University was the first thing that has separated us.

I found my dad’s car parked outside of the arrivals building, ready to take me to the house. My father spends five days of the week in the city and flies back home to Montréal for the weekends when he can. My mother would never consider living in another city other than Montréal, she is French Canadian and incredibly proud of it. Whereas my father cannot move away from his work here. He runs a large investment bank in the city and spends most of his time on the phone or in board meetings. Even when he ventures back to Montréal, he brings work with him.

I looked out of the window as we drove north, taking in the packed sidewalks, happy to be home and see my family. I’ve always been ‘Daddy’s girl’ - much closer to my father than my distant mother. Admittedly I grew up in Montréal, went to school there and visited my father in New York or when he came back to Québec. But my mother, the professional therapist was always psychoanalysing my every move. My parents’ marriage had broken down a long time ago, my mother choosing her boy toy Henri who conveniently lived in the same area. He even came with us on family holidays even last Christmas when we were in the Caribbean.

We drove along the edge of the park as I watched all the tourists, the snap happy Japanese taking pictures of everything, squirrels, pigeons, clouds; the young lovers ambling along side by side, hand in hand; families with young children off to Central Park Zoo; the old couple enjoying each others’ silent company, side by side on a bench. Montréal is and always will be my home, but there is something so electric about this city that continues to draw me back to it.


“ELLA!” Felix bounded across the sidewalk and opened the door, pulling me into an enormous bear hug.
“Tu me manques,” he said, taking my bag out of my hands as we walked into the cool entrance of the townhouse. I grinned back, knowing that I’d missed my brother.
“Toi aussi,” I said, giving him a gentle push on the arm. I opened the fridge and pulled out a ginger beer, before opening the door to the terrace at the back. “God, I missed it here,” I breathed admiring the greenery and shrubs in the garden. Felix grabbed a beer before joining me, telling me that Zach had just proposed to Marissa. I was so happy for them both, he had finally grown the balls to do it, and she was going to be over the moon.

“Comment va la vie à Montréal?” I said, taking a swig of my drink.

“Bien,” Felix replied grinning. “School is good, lots of fun. New experiences, love working at the hospital. Cedric and Guillaume say hi. And... I met a girl.” Finally. My brother had finally met a girl in the city. At school and cegep he’d had girls fawning all over him, but no one steady. Well no one he had been with for longer than a month or two. He had been a bit of a player.

“Dis-moi,” I said, as he smirked. “Est-elle ta blonde?”

Felix shook his head. So, he liked this girl, but she wasn’t his girlfriend. Kind of like me and Jordan, I guess. He looked down at his knees, and then took another swig of his beer.

“No, she’s not. I want her to be, but I don’t know. C’est difficile. La, je sais pas. Her name’s Rosalie. I like her…” Felix sounded like he was hesitating. He was rubbing his neck. He only did that when he was really nervous and agitated. What was it? He has never had problems with girls. Something must be up.

“Felix, what’s the problem?” I asked, knowing he was leaving something out.

“She’s a... a private dancer.” Wow, didn’t see that one coming. I nodded. That was a bit of a surprise, not gonna lie. I nodded. I didn’t want him to think he didn’t have my support. By the looks of it he’d already fallen hard for her.

“And where did you meet Rosalie?” Honestly I didn’t want to know the answer, but I couldn’t just leave the issue. I knew Dad would not be impressed if Felix told him he was dating a lap dancer. Our parents had brought us up not to do things like that.

“Club 281.” Jesus. That was bad. Club 281 was one of rue St. Catherine’s more notorious strip joints. Still he looked like he really liked her. She must already have a hold on him.

I laughed not knowing what else to do. “Mom would kill you if she knew you’d fallen for a stripper. She'd probably give you some of her psychobabble bull, and then publish the episode in her latest bestselling, self-help guru guide.” Felix grinned sheepishly, looking at the ground, probably hoping the cracks in the patio would swallow him up. So I tried to give him some nice sisterly advice, “And stop going to the club and paying for private dances - if she really likes you and not just your money, she’ll make an effort to see you outside of her, erm, work.”

Felix nodded, downing the rest of his beer. “Let’s go and be tourists. Cheesecake?” he replied, once I had finished my drink. I agreed. Dad wouldn’t be home until late and the stock markets had closed for the day and then we could celebrate Easter together as a family.


Song: Paloma Faith - New York


I know it’s a tourist trap, but Juniors off Times Square, in my humble opinion, does the best cheesecake I have ever tasted. Raspberry swirl is my guilty pleasure and we normally get a whole cheesecake to take away, because Dad never gets the time to go to these places and I know he loves Juniors too. Felix and I used to pretend to be arty and hang out in Brooklyn, but Manhattan is and always will be our neighbourhood préféré. And besides, no cheesecake in Brooklyn is in the same league to Juniors.

We caught the subway, something Dad is very against us doing, particularly when he has a car and a driver, but we do it in Montréal, and we do it here, when he’s not here to tell us not to. Besides, we’re both twenty one now, it’s not like we’re twelve anymore. Having said that, I wouldn’t dream of taking the subway at night, even if I know the city like the back of my hand.

My blackberry beeped in my purse. I glanced at the caller id seeing Jordan calling. I’d only seen him yesterday, but I did kind of miss him. And the sex had been, well incroyable.

“Hey you,” I said smiling, glad he couldn't see me grinning my face off. “Yes, you too, I’ll be back on Tuesday, so see you then… OK… when you get back then… it’s good… just going for cheesecake… OK… bye…” Still a bit awkward on the phone. And he hadn’t said he was going on an eight day road trip. Well I needed to focus on work when I got back anyway so it’s not like I’m going to miss him for the three days I’m in Pitt when he isn’t.

“So, now I’ve told you about Rosalie,” Felix began taking a bite of his chocolate fudgey cheesecake, “is there a man in yours? Any native Pittsburghers? And the way you answered your phone tells me that that person wasn’t just Gina or Soph…” I looked down at my cheesecake. I couldn’t even be subtle any more. God Ella, pull yourself together!

“There is, isn’t there?” Felix probed, pointing his fork at me, his mouth full of chocolate cheesecake.

“Umm yes. I met him on Spring Break. And he lives in Pitt, and he didn’t tell me. I had a bit of a shock. He plays hockey…”

“He’s a Penguin?” Felix interrupted. I could tell he was anxious if I was dating a Penguin, and intrigued all the same. Felix is a huge hockey fan, season tickets to Habs games so I'm sure he's probably heard of Jordan.

“Yep, Jordan. Jordan Staal.” Let's see how Felix reacts to this...

“Holy shit! Câlice, Jordan STAAL?!!!!”

“Felix!” I said. I knew the people around us wouldn’t understand but still swearing in Quebecoise annoyed me, even being so far away from Québec. I hated Felix swearing. And me dating a Penguin wasn’t that big a deal was it?

“Sorry. So? Should I be worried that my little sis is going out with one of the Staal brothers?”

“Felix, I’m hardly little. I’m 5’8, and younger than you by fifteen minutes. And wait, Staal brothers?” Jordan had never mentioned that he had brothers. I could only pray that they are all as good looking as he is.

“There’s four of them, Ells. So are you together?”

The million dollar question. The question that means commitment. The question I didn't know the answer to.

“Exclusive,” I said.

Felix frowned. He didn't like it. Felix's opinion has always mattered so much more than everyone else's opinion - well apart from Gina's opinion. He is my best friend, my brother and confidant, so I was a little nervous for what he was going to say. “That sounds like a short deal. Does Zach know?”

“Nope, I don’t think so. It’s not important, and I like him, but as you know, the last thing I need is a boyfriend before I graduate, with tennis and interviews for internships and jobs on top of everything.”

“I think you should go for it,” Felix said.

“Just like that?” I said, finishing off my cheesecake. God, I’d relocate to New York just for this cheesecake. Felix never did things on a whim which is I was a little surprised he'd told me to go for it. I was the one who jumped into things head first. He was the cautious one, the one who always thought things through, weighing up the consequences of his actions, the one who thought before he spoke. Oh how the tables had turned – he was the one now seeing a stripper, and I was the cautious one, putting distance and time into a relationship.

I raised my eyebrows at him, trying to suss out what he meant. Reading Felix is like reading a children’s book. It’s easy, well it is for me. I know his moves. But we're pretty similar even if he is a guy, we're twins after all.

“Ells, if he likes you, go for it. If you like him, go for it. Life is too short, and in Pittsburgh there are THOUSANDS of jersey chasers, puck bunnies, girls who are looking to sleep with a player. Life is too short. And the important thing is: how does he make you feel?”

I zoned out, thinking back to last night, the first time I met him, the time in the Mellon when I had run into him, how he had made me feel each time – he made me feel amazing, his touch, the way he looked at me, the way he kissed me. Clearly it was something new, so I didn’t know too much about where this was going, or where he or I wanted it to go, but I liked the way I felt when I was around him. And I liked his body. Oh, that body…

“Ella, Ella?” Felix called, waving a menu in front of my face. “I think I know how he makes you feel. C’mon, let’s get out of here. Let's go catch a show, how about La Cage aux Folles or Sondheim on Sondheim, or let's go to the Guggenheim and then go home, ouais?”

“Sounds fabulous,” I said, paying the bill. Mon dieu Manhattan, je t'aime.