Despite the daylight, Madison Avenue is glittering from start to finish. There are throngs of shoppers hurrying up and down, rushing in and out of stores and coffeehouses, and I can hear three different Christmas songs at once, all competing for the attention of gift-hunters. Aiden takes my hand and slips my arm into the crook of his elbow, and as we walk down the street the city stench of traffic fumes gradually gives way to a lighter, almost sickly scent of cinnamon and coffee.
We visit no less than seven stores within an hour, and I’m shocked at how efficient Aiden is. He has a task to complete, and he is on it. I walk along beside him, happy to observe him in action as he strides through crowds that seem to part for him, scanning every shelf and aisle for anything of interest. He stops a couple of times, picking up and quickly replacing a few things that I imagine were possible gifts for Dave. We linger the longest in a joke shop, and draw the attention of other shoppers with our laughing as we try out prosthetic noses and fart machines.
An hour of browsing later, it’s time for lunch. I can feel my feet swelling inside my boots, and I visibly wince when I step on an uneven paving stone.
“What?” Aiden demands, stopping dead in his tracks and turning to me. A squat man nearly walks dead into Aiden and mutters a curse, but when he looks up and sees Aiden staring down at him, he meekly side-steps and continues on his way.
“Nothing,” I say, trying to smile brightly.
“You’re really a terrible liar,” he says, smiling. He places a finger under my chin and tips it up. I love it when he does that. I’m instantly tingling all over.
“My feet. They’ve been getting a bit sore lately,” I tell him. “It’s nothing.”
He glances down at my feet, holding my upper arms with his hands, then lifts his gaze to my face again. He looks way more concerned about my swollen feet than I am.
“Lately?” he asks.
“Couple of months.”
“Seen a doctor?”
I shake my head. “Figured I’d go after Christmas.”
“If the New Year rolls around and you still haven’t been, I’m going to make you an appointment and take you to it. Alright?” he says.
I lift my brows. He has a way of being so demanding sometimes, but it never makes me feel condescended to. I feel… cared for.
“Yes, boss,” I say, sarcastically, and salute.
“Good,” he says, and his thumb moves up a little from my chin to swipe ever so gently over my bottom lip. The sudden roll of desire that wells up inside me is almost overwhelming. “Good,” he says again, and I notice his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Now, let’s get some lunch. We’ll skip skating if your feet are hurting.”
“But I was going to show off!” I whine.
He looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Oh were you, now? How’s that?”
“I might have done some figure skating when I was younger,” I tell him, looking around innocently.
“Ah, so you’re a hustler!” he says, laughing, and offers me his arm again, which I gladly take. “Well, maybe next year.”
I’m speechless for a moment, trying to parse what he means by next year. Next Christmas? Next year in a few weeks’ time? It’s hard to deny that I’m starting to fall for him, big time. And I’m struggling to find any reason not to.
Aiden
I can’t shake the worry about her feet. It’s been nearly a decade since Sophie first started complaining of niggling little pains and aches, but the horror is still with me. I could never go through that again. I’m trying to walk slowly so that Pippa will be able to keep up, but the instinct to run away from the worry is almost too much. I try to slow my breathing and calm myself, reassure myself that it’s not the same, and that I don’t need to worry about losing Pip the same way.
I’ve just about managed to push it out of my mind when we happen upon a diner, and step inside to grab some lunch.
“Wow, this place is… festive,” says Pippa.
She’s not wrong. There are gold, red and silver streamers hanging from every inch of the ceiling, a peppy, rock-beat version of Jingle Bells is playing a little too loud, and the servers are all dressed as elves—striped tights and all.
“No kidding,” I say, guiding her into an empty booth.
We order some drinks—a beer for me and sparkling water for her—and sit in silence to look at the menu. I can’t help looking over at her as she sits there, studying the menu as if this is the most important decision she’s ever made. She’s beautiful. Not in an obvious, supermodel sort of way, but in an effortless, natural sort of way. Something has changed, since March. I don’t know if she’s lost a little weight or gained a little weight, or if it’s just the effect of time and longing, but she looks more beautiful to me today than ever before.
“Ready?” asks the server, suddenly appearing beside me. I look across to Pippa, who’s nodding.
“Alright, then,” I say. “Ladies first!”
I would have said that anyway, but I’m a little relieved to have some time to quickly pick something out while she’s ordering. She gets the cob salad and I end up ordering the same. The server takes the menus and heads off with our order, and Pippa looks over to me and smiles.
“So,” she says.
“So,” I repeat. “Feet better?”
“Yeah. Much better, thanks. It’s nothing major. Probably the boots. Hey, we didn’t get anything for Lexi and Dave yet.”
“I’ll come in again another time,” I tell her. “I’m not dragging you around on sore feet. What sort of monster do you think I am?”
“Aside from a kidnapper and grand theft… auto-ist? Well that would be telling, Mr. Coleman,” she says, and I narrow my eyes at her. She’s been doing some detective work.
“Quite so, Ms. Holmes,” I say, and she laughs. It splits the air like glitter, brightening up the atmosphere in an instant.
“I saw Lexi’s name on the TV this morning and just assumed…”
“Ah,” I say, nodding. “So you haven’t Googled me yet, then?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I mean, I was going to, but then they started telling me how to apply this season’s hot new eye makeup and I couldn’t drag myself away.”
I think I love her.
It dawns on me in that instant, and it’s the most ridiculous thought I’ve ever had. I’ve known her for all of two weeks, and one of those was a no-strings-attached vacation fling. And aside from all that, I know how much it hurts when it all goes terribly wrong. And yet, here I am, thinking it, regardless.
I must be looking at her strangely, because she tilts her head and gives me a puzzled expression.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to sound breezier than I feel. The server comes along to deliver our drinks, saving me from the moment.
“Yeah, just glad you’ve got your priorities straight,” I say, recovering myself. “Eye makeup first, always.”
“Hear, hear,” she laughs, and lifts up her glass. We clink, and takes simultaneous sips.
“So, hey,” she says, looking at me across the table. There’s a little pink flush in her cheeks. “What’s the deal with Lexi? I mean. She’s not married or dating, right? Is she just a workaholic? Sorry to pry, it’s just… she’s so nice and so beautiful…”
I smile at her, as gently as I can, and shake my head. “You’re not prying. It’s a perfectly normal thing to wonder. And it’s something like that, I guess. Partly, she’s just really busy with work all the time. And partly… well, I think the main problem is that nobody she ever meets is Dave.”
“Dave Dave?” she asks as she leans in closer. She looks comical in her sudden interest. “That’s right, you mentioned they had a thing.”
“Dave Dave,” I nod. “Dave Driscoll. They’re made for each other. But she has her career here in the city and he’s a country boy through-and-through. They dated for a while, but—”
“Really?! I thought you just meant a one-night stand or so
mething.”
I laugh at the look on her face. It’s true that Dave and Lexi seem like polar opposites when you meet them. And in many ways, they are. Pippa’s shock is understandable.
“Yep. Back when they were in their late teens. I know it’s hard to imagine, but that’s because you’ve never seen them together. They got on like a house on fire, but Dave was about to start college, Lexi was already in college on the other side of the country, and vacations just weren’t enough. And I think the two of them sort of realized they were on different paths. It’s a shame, really.”
“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “And what about you?”
I look up sharply at her—more sharply than I want to.
“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to pry.” There’s a look of embarrassment on her face that makes me want to hug her. I reach across the table and take her hand.
“It’s fine. I dated a little in college. There was someone serious, but it ended. And then I got busy with work. And then I met you.”
I left a lot out there. I didn’t mention Sophie by name, nor that I’d planned to be with her forever. I didn’t mention the way it ended, or why, or how much it messed me up. Just the basics. But that will have to do.
“Short but sweet,” she says, looking satisfied. She’s obvious realized I’m not up for talking about it and she’s willing to let it slide.
“Just like you!” I say, grinning at her, and she throws a napkin at me.
The food is surprisingly good, considering that the only reason we’re in here is it was the first place we came across. In the middle of eating, I get an idea for something we can do instead of ice-skating. I’m not ready to let the day end halfway through, so I ask her to excuse me for a moment, and fire off a quick text to Dev.
Thank heavens Dev agreed to move to the Big Apple - at a significantly higher rate, of course. The company guy that’s been driving me around since I got here is fine, but Dev has been with me for years, we each know how the other works, and he goes above and beyond. Now that he’s relocated, New York City is beginning to feel a bit more permanent.
Pippa and I chat a little about what I might get for Lexi and Dave for Christmas, and she says she needs to pick something out for her mother and her roommate.
“Well, when I do eventually find gifts for them,” I say, “you want to come see their reactions when they open them?”
She pauses in the middle of wiping her mouth and looks over at me.
“What?” she asks.
Admittedly, it’s not the big speech I thought I’d be making, about how much I like her and how I want her to come and be with me, but trying to come up with the right words has been freaking me out, and this feels more natural.
“Spend Christmas with me,” I say. “With us. At my place.”
“I…” She looks speechless. There’s a sudden, sinking lurch in my stomach, and for a second I think I’ve blown it.
“I mean if you’re already busy, it’s fine,” I say, quickly.
“No, no. It’s not that,” she says, shaking her head. “Well, it sort of is. My mother is going away for Christmas and my roomie and I were going to have a girly Christmas at the apartment, watching old-time movies and pigging out on ice-cream.”
She grins, and so do I—but I’m not willing to let it go just yet.
“Bring her along?” I say. “It makes sense, no? There’d be five of us altogether. You can’t even play charades with two!”
“Or three,” she says, accusingly.
“Or three,” I agree. “So let’s save charades. Together.”
She laughs at this, and I feel relief flooding me.
“I’ll have to ask,” she says, but I can see her mind ticking over and the little smile tugging at her lips that says she wants to. Even if we can’t pull it off, that smile is enough to keep me floating.
“Great,” I say, lifting my now-empty glass. “To charades!”
The server comes along to clear our table, I win an argument with Pippa about who’s going to pay, and while she pulls her coat on, I check my phone and see a message from Dev.
“Okay,” I tell Pippa, taking her hand to lead her back into the street. “I’m not letting you stomp all over the city and pretend your feet are fine. Ice skating is out of the question. I can get the gifts I need next week, anyway. So we’ll do something else.”
She looks up at me, her huge, blue eyes questioning, with a curious look on her face. Thousands of Christmas lights give her eyes a shifting sparkle. “What are we doing?” she asks.
“You’ll see,” I tell her. I know there’s going to be protest and questions before I say it, so I take the opportunity to lean down and press my lips against hers. Her hand lifts to sit flat upon my chest, and I cup the back of her head. Her lips are the softest, most yielding I’ve ever felt. I feel like I could stay in that kiss forever, until we’re jostled a little too much by passing shoppers. Our teeth clonk together and we both break apart, laughing.
These are the moments I savor with her. It’s not just that she’s beautiful and soft and smoking hot. She has an edge to her. An incredible sense of humor, an easy-going attitude, artistic talent. She’s so much more than a vacation fling, and I can no longer believe I agreed to that ridiculous arrangement in the first place.
“Ah, there he is,” I say, nodding to the car that’s just pulled in. Dev gets out and opens the back door, and we hop in.
“Mystery tour!” Pippa grins, as I get in and sit beside her.
I tease her about where we’re going. The mountains. The ski slope. The North Pole. She doesn’t believe any of it, but I manage to make her laugh, and I get to see her dimples.
Less than ten minutes later, we’re pulling up near Central Park, and Dev once again gets out to open the sidewalk-side door.
“Thanks, man,” I say to him, quietly, as he slips a piece of paper into my hand. “Call you later.”
When Dev is back in the car, I turn to Pippa and offer her my arm.
“Sooo… a walk in Central Park?” she asks, and I’m loving the way she’s so desperate to know. I give her a sly side-smile and she gives me a frustrated little grunt in return.
“You think I’d drag you around Central Park after you’ve told me your feet are sore?” I ask her.
“Hmm,” she says. “No, I don’t.”
“Well, you’d be wrong,” I tell her, grinning. I nod over her shoulder, and she turns around to see a small, horse-drawn carriage sitting at the side of the path. It’s my surprise to her, but even I’m impressed by how pretty and romantic it looks. There are glittering fairy lights wrapped around its edges, and the seats are covered in deep-red velvet cushions.
“Seriously?” she says, turning back around to face me. Her face is bright with excitement. She looks like a kid on Christmas morning, and I instantly know I’ve made the right choice.
“Coleman?” says a short, wiry man with a friendly face, as he emerges from behind the horse, giving it a quick rub on the nose.
“That’s us,” I nod, and I hold my arm out, indicating Pippa should go first.
“Now, once we’ve got you settled in under a nice cozy blanket, we’ll do the full tour,” says the man. “Frank’s the name, by the way. We’ll stop now and then at the landmarks, but if you want to get out you just let me know.”
He holds out a hand to help Pippa up into the carriage, and I pull out the ticket that Dev handed me, passing it off to Frank.
“All aboard,” he says, when I’ve pulled myself up and settled in beside Pippa.
She immediately grabs the blanket from the opposite seat and pull it over us, wriggling into my side.
“I’ve never been in one of these!” she says, excitedly, all dimples and delight. “I’ve lived here almost my entire life and barely ever been in Central Park. Strange, isn’t it, how people come from all over the world to see the sights of the place you live in, and you barely even notice them when they’re right in front of you?”
I
nod, draping my arm over her shoulder and sitting back. “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’ve got until someone points it out to you. Or until you lose it.”
I don’t feel the usual pang of guilt when I talk about losing love, and its absence is so shocking it almost feels like a part of me is missing.
She looks up at me, meaningfully, her teeth pressed into her bottom lip. “Maybe people should be more careful about keeping the things they hold dear close by,” she says. “And not let them go because of some stupid agreement they made on the spur of the moment.”
“What sort of idiots would do that?” I ask, playing along, but my heart is pounding in my chest as she grins back at me. That must mean what I think it means, right? I swoop down to kiss her, but she’s barely parted her lips when Frank’s voice interrupts us.
“Off we go!”
The carriage jerks a little as it starts into motion, and then the ride is slow and smooth.
“Aww, that could’ve been us,” says Pippa, as we pass by the Wollman Rink.
“Pfft. Yeah, and I’d have been on my ass with bruises while you glided round like a swan,” I snort. I squeeze her a little tighter into my side. “This is much better.”
On we go, past the carousel that’s bustling with families and couples. We ride by the glittering Plaza Hotel and along the Upper East Side, its looming buildings painting an old-style silhouette against the grey, cloudy sky. Frank gives us some landmark commentary here and there. Pippa’s eyes are wide as she looks around, taking it all in like a tourist in her own city, and the cold in the air has made her nose and cheeks bright pink. She looks adorable.
“Oh! Frank…” she says. Frank half-turns his head to hear. “Frank, can we stop here?”
“Woah, boy!” Frank calls to the horse, and I glance around as the carriage draws to a slow halt, wondering why she’s asking to stop here. By the time I turn back to look at her, she’s already out of the carriage.
“Come on!” she says, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder. She’s grinning and beckoning me with her hand. Beyond her, I can see some sort of statue.
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