by Mandy Baggot
‘What is this?’ Seth asked, taking her cell from her hand and staring at it.
‘There’s barely any battery left. Press the screen!’ she urged him.
‘Don’t you stop waltzing!’ Maggie warned and then coughed like her chest was going to crack open.
Seth pressed the screen and saw that the Facebook app was open. And there was a profile photo looking back at him. It was a profile photo belonging to Candy Garcia. She was perhaps mid-forties, mid-length dark hair, cafe-au-lait skin and with eyes he knew so well. His eyes. The pull inside himself was overwhelming.
‘That’s her,’ Kossy breathed. ‘That’s Candice.’ She swallowed. ‘That’s your birth mom.’
Forty-Three
East Village
‘Lara, look! There are literally a million Santas over there!’
The only thing Lara was looking at was her phone. Should she have messaged Seth this morning to say good luck for the audition? She had thought about it. She had thought about it so much she had actually started composing a message but then worried, as she didn’t know the time of the audition, that his phone might not be on silent and it might go off in the middle of the audition and that her good luck message might just be the thing that ruined the whole thing and she deleted it. But now she hadn’t heard from him at all and it was the afternoon and she was thinking all sorts. Maybe her half-crushed burrito was on his coat and he had realised what an absolute liability she was … maybe when he said he would message her he hadn’t really meant it …
‘Lara! Look! Millions of Father Christmases!’ Susie exclaimed, grabbing her arm and pointing.
This time Lara looked up. ‘God! There really is,’ she answered. Perhaps not millions of them, but there were certainly scores of men and women dressed up in bright red and white Santa suits and they were jogging. People on the pavements were clapping as they passed. It seemed strange, rampant festive parcel-deliverers bouncing through the snowy tree-lined streets past the brownstones and bistros and independent shops.
‘Maybe it’s for a film,’ Susie said, tracking the runners and applauding too.
‘It’s a race.’ Lara pointed to a sign. ‘And apparently also a pub crawl. Maybe we should join in, with the pub-crawling bit, not the dressing up as Santa and running bit.’
‘Ooo!’ Susie pulled her phone from her handbag. ‘I just got a text from David.’
‘How do you know?’ Lara asked.
‘He has his own special noise.’
‘Wish I hadn’t asked.’
‘I don’t mean he has a special noise. I meant I chose a special tone for him … he’s asked if I want to go Christmas shopping with him tonight. Oh my God! Do you think he means somewhere like … Tiffany’s? Do you think he’s going to buy me jewellery … like a ring? Like one of those special rings you give to girls you’ve been dating for a while to make things a little more permanent?’
‘If you say the words “engagement ring”, I don’t think it curses you,’ Lara answered.
‘No,’ Susie said, nearly hitting a running Santa with her handbag as they continued up the street. ‘No, it wouldn’t be that. I mean, why would it be that? We haven’t been going out that long and he’s been away here for so long and … do you think he is going to buy me a ring?’
Lara smiled. ‘I don’t know. Do you want him to buy you a ring?’
‘I don’t know,’ Susie admitted.
‘That was some high level of excitement for someone who doesn’t know.’
‘I’m just trying to manage my expectations, that’s all. I mean, if I get all hyper and thinking about rings when he’s only said the words “Christmas shopping” then I might be disappointed.’
‘Ah!’ Lara said, pointing a finger. ‘You just admitted you would be disappointed if it’s not shopping for a ring.’
‘Did I?’
Lara nodded.
‘Oh God! Is he going to propose? Do I want him to propose?’
‘Quick,’ Lara said, getting her phone out of her pocket. ‘Let’s capture this moment and the sprinting Santas with an Insta pic.’ She held up her camera ready for a selfie, waiting for the Clauses to be in prime position with all the delights of their East Village neighbourhood too. ‘Smile.’
Lara’s phone took the photo then immediately started to ring. She looked at the screen.
‘It’s Seth.’
Her stomach was already performing a dirty, sexy samba just from looking at his name.
‘Answer it!’ Susie ordered. ‘Maybe he’s going to invite you Christmas shopping too!’
Before she could think about it, she pressed the button to answer and put the phone to her ear. ‘Hello.’
‘Hi, Lara, it’s Seth. Hunt. Seth Hunt.’
She smiled. His whole manner was so sweet yet undeniably sexy and she suspected he had no idea what it did to a girl. ‘I know. Since you gave me your number it tells me who you are. I thought about rejecting the call because I’m currently surrounded by hundreds of really gorgeous guys – and girls, actually – all exceedingly well dressed with beautifully groomed beards and it’s really, really mesmerising.’
‘I have no idea where you are, but I kinda wanna see for myself.’
‘I’m in East Village, just going back to our apartment, and there’s a Santa race going on.’
‘Do not join in,’ Seth warned her. ‘It’s an annual thing. Those guys are heavy drinkers, you’ll be drunk before sunset.’
‘What about the girls?’ Lara asked. ‘I’m hoping they’re even worse.’
He laughed, and it made her skin tingle and instinctively hold the phone closer to her ear. She liked feeling that way.
‘So, I’m going now,’ she told him. ‘To have drinks with the Santa Girls.’
‘Oh well, that’s a shame because if you’re drunk before sunset you might not fully appreciate the date I was hoping you’d join me on tonight.’
Tonight. He wanted to take her on a date tonight. She wasn’t a girlie girl who needed a whole day of mani-pedi and facials, but she might need a couple of hours to pull together an outfit she was happy with from her suitcase full of creased clothes she still hadn’t hung up.
‘I … er …’ She looked to Susie. Her friend was raising her eyes and hopping from one foot to the other shaking both hands like she was doing a children’s entertainer dance teaching about how to stay warm in cold weather.
‘Too soon?’ Seth asked. ‘I’m sorry, I just … you haven’t told me how long you’re here for and—’
‘No,’ Lara said quickly and loudly. ‘No, it’s not too soon.’
‘You don’t have other plans? I’ll understand if you have other plans.’
‘No … no other plans.’ She swallowed, the bubbles of anticipation growing in her stomach like she had downed a whole bottle of Fairy Liquid. ‘And Susie and David are going shopping at Tiffany’s.’
‘No one said Tiffany’s!’ Susie shouted. Lara muffled her mouth with her hand and they both almost fell into the path of another bunch of Father Christmas joggers.
‘Great. So, shall I come to your place? Pick you up?’
‘I …’ Lara began. Why couldn’t she just answer in a normal way? Susie grunted from behind Lara’s hand, desperately trying to get free.
‘Or we could meet somewhere.’
‘No, my place is fine,’ she said, releasing Susie finally. ‘I’ll text you the address.’
‘Cool,’ Seth answered. ‘Say, seven thirty?’
‘I’ll be somewhere near ready.’
‘Great. I’ll see you then.’
‘Wait! Seth!’ Lara called as if he was right there with her and she was hailing him back.
‘Yeah?’
‘How did the call-back go?’
There was a pause, but somehow she sensed he was smiling. A strange sensation ran up inside her, like a dancing cat was breaking out the pompoms and leading a cheer squad. She felt … gooey – not in a gross way – in a warm-hot-chocolate-with-marshmallows-by-
the-fire way.
‘It went great,’ Seth answered. ‘Really great. I’ll tell you tonight.’
‘I’m so pleased,’ Lara said, feeling so proud of him.
‘Me too,’ he said. ‘And I have something else to tell you too.’
‘What?’ Lara asked.
‘I found my mom.’
Forty-Four
Lara and Susie’s Airbnb apartment, East Village
‘For the third time, Lara, not jeans!’
‘I don’t really have anything else,’ Lara exclaimed, throwing another T-shirt to the floor of her room to join the rest of the clothes already discarded. ‘No, I take that back. I completely don’t have anything else.’
‘What about your nice black trousers?’ Susie asked, searching through Lara’s suitcase and scrutinising everything.
‘Ripped them getting over a barbed wire fence chasing a goat.’
Susie shook her head. ‘If it was anyone else telling that story I wouldn’t believe it.’ She held something up in the air. ‘What about this?’
‘That isn’t mine,’ Lara said, screwing up her eyes as if trying to bring the item into focus. ‘What is that?’
‘It’s a navy-blue dress, plain with a little lace detail around the neckline and shoulders.’
Then Lara understood. ‘Did you just put that in my case?’
‘No,’ Susie said in the most unconvincing voice ever.
‘Then it must belong to whoever owns this apartment,’ Lara concluded. ‘And it must have fallen right out of the wardrobe into my case.’
‘Yes!’ Susie pointed dramatically and almost dropped the item of clothing. ‘That must be it … but it’s nice, don’t you think? And no one would know that you borrowed it. And you could wear some of my tights.’
‘No!’ Lara exclaimed. ‘Not tights. They almost killed me that last time. I came out in hives. And, if Seth sees me in a dress again he’s going to think I’m a girl who dresses up in dresses and I’m not a girl who dresses up in dresses. I’m a girl who … who … dresses way down … usually in some form of denim.’
‘But the New York Lara could do something different,’ Susie suggested, holding the dress up and almost making it move like it had come to life and was shimmying towards her.
Lara sighed. This break was supposed to be about embracing new things and striding towards the exciting and unknown. But there were also thoughts in the back of her mind telling her that she had done quite a lot of compromising in her relationship with Dan without really being aware of it. She didn’t want that again – not that one date with Seth was in any way like what she had had with Dan. Not that she really knew just what she had had with Dan … She looked again at the dress Susie was still holding out like she was a sales assistant in a fancy boutique.
‘Can we modify it somehow?’ Lara asked, leaning her head to the left as she stared at the dress.
‘Which parts?’
‘I don’t like the lace,’ Lara told her. ‘And I’m not sure about the way the skirt flares out like that.’
‘But, Lara, that’s most of the dress and I’m not exactly great with needlework or anything like that.’
Lara smiled at her. ‘Do you think the woman who it belongs to would mind if we cut it?’ She watched Susie’s expression. ‘I was thinking, if she had left it here then she can’t be missing it and if we alter it and take it she probably won’t mind …’
‘Well,’ Susie began. ‘I looked at the label and it’s from a boutique I’ve heard of in London and it’s quite expensive.’
‘That’s settled then,’ Lara said, reaching for her suitcase. ‘I’m wearing jeans.’
‘Wait! No! I … suppose we could, unpick the lace parts and, maybe pin up the skirt somehow.’
‘Susie, I’m not going to wreck your dress!’
Susie sighed. ‘You know it’s mine.’
Lara laughed. ‘Of course I know it’s yours!’ She slipped her phone out of her pocket and pressed the home button.
‘What are you doing?’ Susie asked. ‘Who are you calling?’
‘Aldo,’ Lara answered.
‘For fashion advice?’
‘Don’t sound so surprised. Who do you think picks out my dad’s business dinner ties?’ She nodded knowingly at her friend then sat down on the bed, waiting for FaceTime to connect.
‘But I’ve never seen Aldo wearing a pair of socks that match.’
‘Ah,’ Lara said. ‘Because that’s a fashion statement and nothing to do with him not being able to coordinate.’
‘I’ll go and find some scissors,’ Susie said, heading towards the door.
‘Hello,’ came Aldo’s voice. On the screen was a sheep wearing a string of bells around its neck who started sniffing at the camera.
‘Aldo! Why is there a sheep using your phone?’
‘Get down, Burkini! Get down!’
‘What did you just call the sheep?’ Lara asked, observing the wet tongue of the animal and wondering if Aldo’s phone was going to survive the saliva.
‘Lamb Burkini. That’s what the farmer’s called this one.’ Finally, Aldo’s face came into shot, grinning.
‘I think it’s probably Lamborghini, you know, like the car.’
‘Oh! Do you think so? I’d better tell the school. I’m taking some sheep there for a nativity service.’
‘I’m sure they won’t mind what they’re called … listen, Aldo, I need your help. I’m going out on a date tonight and I don’t know what to wear and—’
‘On a date?’
She hadn’t meant to say the ‘date’ word to Aldo. She hadn’t meant to say it to anyone from anywhere near her life back in Appleshaw. Seth and everything here in New York was like a delicious escapism bubble she didn’t want to get out of until she had to pop it and return on the heavy, hopefully well-engineered plane.
‘On a date with no dojo Seth?’
‘No, yes, I mean …’
‘Dan was in the pub last night,’ Aldo continued, tying another string of bells around a sheep he had just sat astride. No mean feat when he was also holding a phone.
‘Oh,’ Lara said. She had wanted to sound like she was feigning uninterest but her interest was piqued, no matter what she was trying to tell herself.
‘He was with Chloe and the horrible hot-tub men,’ Aldo continued.
‘Oh,’ Lara said again. What else was there to say?
‘He asked me if I had heard from you.’
Had he? Why? What did he care?
‘I said you were catching animals for the zoo like you do at the farm here and you were visiting all the places we’ve only seen on TV and … I said you were laughing all the time and buying Christmas presents, but not for him.’
Lara swallowed. Poor Aldo. Stuck in the middle of her stupid relationship situation.
‘Then Dad came over,’ Aldo continued. ‘Told Dan that he owed nineteen pounds ninety-five for the Weeks Haulage Christmas dinner he didn’t come to.’
Lara smiled and shook her head. That was typical of her dad, making a point. ‘Did he pay?’
Aldo shook his head, grabbing sheep number three and straddling it. ‘Chloe gave Dad twenty pounds and told him to keep the change.’
Of course she did. Because that seemed to be Chloe’s job now. Being by Dan’s side. This was good. This was definitive proof that Dan was moving swiftly out of her life and she needed to stand strong and drive her own sleigh.
‘Aldo,’ she started, watching her brother fasten the bells on the sheep that was bleating its disapproval. ‘I am going on a date with Seth and I need your help. What can I wear that isn’t jeans or a dress?’
He smiled at once, getting off the last of the sheep due for embellishment. ‘Have you got your unicorn onesie?’
‘No!’ came Susie’s scream from the lounge. ‘There is no way you’re wearing a onesie on a date!’
Forty-Five
East Village
‘You know, I’ve never dated a unicorn before,’ Seth told
Lara as they walked up the street away from the apartment. It was snowing lightly, mere kisses of flakes, touching everything and everyone out that evening. Festive lights were glowing from office blocks, restaurants and cafes and there was a relaxed buzz in the air. People carried shopping bags, briefcases, pushed bicycles, strapped Christmas trees to roofs of cars as the endless stream of yellow taxis honked in pleasure or displeasure – no one really knew.
‘You’re disappointed, aren’t you? I can tell.’ Lara smiled and fastened the zip of her jacket over the dress Susie had modified. It was now two inches shorter, minus the lace and teamed with thick, long socks coming up from her Dr Martens boots. It was a look she was happy with. It wasn’t jeans, but it was still very much her.
‘Maybe you could wear the onesie on our next date,’ Seth suggested.
‘Ah, that’s very presumptuous of you. That seems to insinuate that the first date is going to go so well that there will be a repeat performance.’
‘What can I say?’ Seth said, looking at her. ‘I’m feeling optimistic today.’
Lara smiled. ‘So is Susie, and I really hope she doesn’t get her heart crushed.’
‘Tiffany’s?’ Seth guessed.
‘Yes,’ Lara said. ‘David invited her Christmas shopping and she thinks it’s Tiffany’s, although he hasn’t mentioned Tiffany’s … but in her mind, despite what she says, I think she’s already been into the shop, chosen the ring and booked Meghan Markle’s preacher to do the service.’
‘OK,’ Seth said. ‘Got it.’
Lara slipped her arm inside his. ‘But anyway, enough of rings and preachers. I want to hear about your mom. I can’t believe you found her! How did you find her?’
‘Actually, I think it had a lot to do with you.’
Seth went on to tell her how Kossy had found Candy Garcia on Facebook and how he and his adopted mum had spent the afternoon trying to find out where she lived. They had drawn an absolute blank leaving him with only one option …
‘If I want to meet her,’ Seth said with a sigh. ‘I have to message her.’ He took a breath. ‘I have to just pluck up the courage to send her a message. I have to tell her who I am, and hope that she wants to know me.’