Nothing in life remained consistent. Every day brought something new. The only thing that stayed the same was that everything changed. Sometimes it was a change for the better. Sometimes it wasn't. That was the funny thing about life. There was no way to know for sure what was coming. All you could do was sit back and watch it unfold. It was a hard learned lesson but that's what being on the road nearly three hundred days a year did to a man. It made him a little cynical and slightly jaded. As if a guy like him needed the help. No, a guy like him was very much accustomed to getting kicked while he was down.
Shielding his eyes as he stepped from the cab, Phil Brooks, better known to most of the world as C.M. Punk, smiled as he took a good look around. For the first time since he'd signed the mortgage, he stood in his very own driveway. A sense of pride moved through him as he looked at the ranch style house. Cedar siding, long ago turned a shade of dark gray, blended into the landscape. It was an older home but it was everything he wanted. Lights shone through the front door, beckoning him to step inside. His smile widened as he pulled two twenty dollar bills from his pocket and handed them to the cabby. Without looking back, he slung his bag over his shoulder and strode to the entry way.
As he drew closer he could hear the faint sound of heavy bass rumbling through the house. Shaking his head slightly, he reached for the doorknob. He wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. It was always the little things that tripped up his best friend and room mate. Dropping his bag in the foyer, Punk took a quick look around. A dark brow raised in amusement as he surveyed the living room. He expected to find the hundred or so cardboard boxes still stacked where the moving guys had left them. Instead everything had been neatly unpacked. The furniture was arranged exactly as it had been in the old apartment. Only now there was ten times the amount of space.
Turning in a slow circle, he realized the same could not be said for the dining room. Every available surface was covered with sheets of crisp, white drawing paper. The rectangles made an odd pattern of colors and textures. Looks like Izzy's been busy he thought as he by-passed the mess and moved to the kitchen. Shaking his head slightly he leaned against the door jamb. The mess had found it's way into the recently upgraded kitchen. The granite counter tops sported an even layer of paper. And in the middle of all the chaos sat the creator.
Elizabeth "Izzy" Webster sat on the center island beside the gourmet stove. Her slender back was turned to him. Her head swiveled slowly as she looked at each piece of paper in turn. God only knew what she was up to. But from the looks of things, she'd been at it a very long time indeed.
"So this is what you do when I'm not home?" Punk asked.
A startled yelp left Izzy as she jumped down from her perch. She whirled to face him, a look of utter surprise on her face. Recognition dawned a second after she looked at him.
"You ass! You scared the shit outta me." Izzy said as she pulled herself to her full height. She gave him a scathing look that would have made a lesser man melt.
At five feet six inches tall she barely came up to his shoulder. Her raven hair was scraped back into a loose knot. Tiny wisps escaped the haphazard arrangement to frame her face. Her blue gray eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. She had all of the intensity of a pissed off kitten. She may look sweet and innocent but Izzy wasn't a push over. She was as tough as they came. It was little wonder that Izzy had been his best friend for as long as he could remember.
"Sorry." He said as he shrugged one broad shoulder.
She stared at him for a long moment as if sizing him up. A moment later a half smile tugged at her lips.
"You were supposed to call when your plane landed." Izzy said as she looked him over from head to toe. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him until now. Relief washed through her as she looked him over from head to toe. Even though his worn Cubs baseball hat shaded his eyes, it was evident that he was exhausted. He looked like he needed to sleep for a month. But to Izzy, he'd never looked better.
Punk rolled his eyes as he shook his head slowly. "I did; five times as matter of fact. You didn't answer your phone."
Izzy's eyes widened slightly as she looked around the kitchen. She'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't heard her phone ringing. Reaching across the counter she scooped up the nearest stack of papers.
She cursed softly under her breath as she moved aside a second stack to no avail. Her phone was lost in the mess she'd created over the last four hours.
Punk laughed softly as he watched Izzy pick up every piece of paper in search of the missing item. "Do you have any idea where you left it?"
A guilty flush crept into her cheeks as she shot him a look. She honestly didn't remember where she had left her phone. More than likely she had set it down and instantly forgotten where. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. "I know it's here somewhere."
He watched as Izzy stood on tiptoes and reached as far as she could. As she moved his eyes were drawn to her heart shaped bottom and the tell-tale rectangle in her back pocket. Biting back a grin Punk moved into the kitchen. Before Izzy could move he reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cell phone. Letting it dangle from his fingertips he tapped her on the shoulder.
"Looking for this?" He asked.
She looked at her phone then sagged in relief. "Thank you."
Taking the device from him, she turned and set it on the counter. "I'm sorry I didn't pick you up ..."
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder he pulled her against his side. He leaned his hip against the counter as Izzy let him absorb her weight.
"Don't worry about it." Punk affectionately ruffled her hair. He motioned to the mountain of scattered paper, "So what's with the indoor snowfall?"
Izzy smiled as she glanced up at him. "Guess who has an interview at Wizard Comics on Monday?"
Punk pulled back enough to look down at Izzy. Her eyes shone with excitement. Izzy had struggled to find a happy middle ground over the last two years. She had tried to hold down a daily nine to five job but had been absolutely miserable. Corporate America was not her bag. The constant "Do this, don't do that" attitude had left her rather unimpressed. Her creativity had been shoved to the wayside as she tried to fit into some acceptable, comfortable little niche. But her heart had never been in it. She longed for the freedom to express herself; to be who she really was. So she'd quit daily grind and started doing what she loved most. She was a graphic artist. Comics were her preference. Although she struggled to regain her financial footing over the last two years, she'd never been happier. An interview with an upstart company was exactly what she needed to get back on her feet.
"Are you kidding me? Dude, that is awesome!"
Izzy smiled as she looked up at him. "I am so excited. If I can land this job, I'll be set for life."
Punk hugged her affectionately. He had no doubt that Izzy was more than talented enough. She was a born artist and her creativity knew no boundaries. She could draw anything she wanted. He'd always been a little envious of her ability to turn a blank page into something mesmerizing. She was talented beyond compare. All she needed was the opportunity to prove herself. He hoped for her sake that this was it. After giving Izzy a quick squeeze he dropped his arm from her shoulders and took a step back. He winked at her before turning away. "Get dressed. I'm taking you out to celebrate."
Izzy's lips parted in protest but he disappeared before she could say a word. Easing her weight against the counter, she couldn't help but smile. The day had turned out so much better than she expected. She was nearly finished selecting the drawings that would be added to her portfolio and her best friend was home well ahead of schedule. For the first time in a long while, things were starting to look up. If things worked out, her life might be exactly what she had been dreaming of.