by Mandy Baggot
‘A leap of faith,’ Lara answered. ‘Like me getting on a plane that is impossibly heavy.’
‘Just like that.’
‘And you’re scared.’
‘Scared and a little nervous, but also excited.’
‘It could be the start of something brand new,’ Lara said. ‘Getting to know who your mom is and where she’s from and all the things she’s done since …’ She stopped herself, wanting not to say the wrong thing. ‘Since your other mom and dad took over.’
‘I know.’
‘So, will you?’ Lara asked as he slowed their pace then stopped walking altogether. ‘Message her?’
‘I did it,’ Seth admitted with the widest smile. ‘I was sitting in the park by my apartment, a little before I came to meet you and I thought about the audition today and Sam’s story and all these secrets and missed opportunities and heartache and … I knew I had to do it.’
‘You pressed send!’ Lara exclaimed, her heart pumping. ‘You didn’t just draft it or discard it? You sent her a message?’
‘I did!’
‘Oh my God! Seth! I don’t know what to say!’ She threw her arms around him, holding him close and breathing in the exhilarating yet calming scent of him. It was like lying in a meadow of the sweetest summer flowers and breathing in the sunshine and the warmth mixed with a hint of exciting pre-thunderstorm.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Seth said softly. ‘Somehow, you knew me better than I knew myself. Is that even possible?’
‘I don’t know,’ Lara admitted. But she felt it too. Seth was close to becoming her most precious confidant … and dangerously close to being even more than that. She held onto him, closing her eyes and just being in the moment. ‘Are you a little bit mad though? That I spoke to Kossy?’
She felt him shake his head and then he answered: ‘No. Because I needed the push. I’m a lifelong procrastinator, even about the big stuff. Trent says that’s why I’m not Russell Crowe.’ He smiled. ‘Although I prefer to think it’s just because I’m not that great at keeping a beard.’
Lara laughed and finally let him go, dropping herself back down to the pavement and meeting his gaze. His eyes locked with hers and she could feel herself feeling …
‘So, has she replied?’ Lara asked quickly, dissipating the moment.
He shook his head. ‘No. Not yet. Last phone check she hadn’t even read it yet, so …’
‘She might not be a Facebook addict.’
‘Yeah, her last post I could see was a week ago.’
‘She might not have the Messenger app.’
‘Lara, it’s OK,’ Seth said. ‘I’ve done my part. I’m good about having done my part. I can’t do anything about the rest.’
She nodded. ‘You’re right.’
‘So,’ he said, smiling. ‘We’re here.’
‘We’re where?’ Lara asked, looking away from him now to the street they were standing in.
‘Well, Lemur Girl, when I thought about where to take you out tonight I had to think big …’
‘I said nothing fancy,’ Lara reminded him. ‘I could have chosen to wear the onesie.’
‘Who said anything about fancy?’
‘OK, I’m intrigued by the reference to “big”.’ She swallowed and directed her gaze to the streetlamps hung with stars. Why did everything sound like an invitation to the screening of a porn premiere tonight?
‘I give you … Zabb Elee.’
Lara looked to where Seth was indicating, taking in a glass frontage, Christmas wreaths hanging inside but shining out to the street, a welcoming red sign displaying the restaurant name.
‘Thai,’ Lara remarked.
‘You like Thai food?’ Seth asked.
‘I like food,’ Lara reminded him. ‘I’ve never tried Thai before.’
‘And that was what I was hoping. Because, Lara, tonight we are going on a culinary voyage,’ Seth said, putting his arm around her shoulders and moving her towards the restaurant door. ‘My New York gift to you, someone who has never travelled before is … Around the World With Food and Beer … starting with Thailand. Now, you can have absolutely whatever you want, but I really recommend the Namtok pork.’
She was unable to believe what she was hearing. This was no ordinary night out. This had required a lot of thought and planning and he’d just told her he’d spent his afternoon trying to find his birth mother too. She wanted to cry as a myriad of emotions washed over her. She was here in New York because of Dan. And now she was here with Seth Hunt and he seemed to know her so crazily well … and she liked it. More than that, she wanted to love it without concern for what it meant for anything else other than the now.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, his face a picture of concern, perhaps at her reticence to move.
She nodded, sniffing desperately like winter hay fever was somehow a thing. ‘Tell me about the Thai beer. Is there more than one brand?’
‘Two served here,’ Seth answered. ‘Singha and Chang.’
‘Let’s get one of each and share,’ Lara replied.
Forty-Six
Caffe Napoli, Little Italy
As they arrived outside the next venue, Seth could still taste the spiced pork on his tongue, together with the beers and an ice tea the waitress had given them for free. He had mainly watched Lara enjoying everything about the Thai restaurant from its intricately tiled floor to the white leather banquette seating and the Christmas crafts hanging from the walls. Her excitement made it as if it was his first time experiencing the restaurant too.
‘Italian!’ Lara announced, stopping alongside him and slipping her arm through his so easily. Every time she did that he felt so comfortable, so perfectly happy with it he almost had to admonish himself for feeling that way. Caffe Napoli looked just like something out of a film set where gangsters ruled their turf and rolled around with the windows down and their tommy guns out. With its black frontage, gold lettering and tables on the street complete with patio heaters to stave off the cold, it could easily have been in an Italian piazza instead of here in NYC. And that’s the night he wanted to give Lara. A piece of the world. Some of the things she hadn’t yet discovered.
‘I love pizza,’ she added excitedly.
‘Ah, but there’s one rule in this restaurant,’ Seth told her.
‘A date with rules?’ Lara asked. ‘I’m not sure that sounds like fun.’
‘You haven’t heard me out yet.’
‘So bossy!’
Seth smiled. ‘We both have to try something we haven’t tried before. New experiences, right?’
‘Hmm,’ Lara mused, looking up at him. ‘How do I know that what you order isn’t going to be your very favourite dish on the menu?’
‘Well, how do I know that you’re not gonna order what you always have in your favourite Italian restaurant in the UK?’
‘I only ever order pizza.’
‘OK. So, my favourite dish here is the veal in the lemon and garlic sauce.’
‘You could just be saying that.’
‘How about a little trust?’ Seth suggested.
‘Trust?’ Lara asked. ‘What’s in that dish?’
‘Very funny.’ He pulled her into him a little, their arms still joined, enjoying the connection.
‘Are we allowed beer here too?’ Lara asked him.
‘Birra Moretti? Peroni?’
‘One of each?’
‘Let’s go.’
Lara took a sip from the bottle of Peroni and washed down the gorgeous, slightly chilli-hot Bucatini all’Amatriciana pasta dish she had been served. They were sitting outside, at a tiny table for two at the very edge of the sidewalk where passers-by had to breathe in to navigate around them. But it was perfect. It was cold, yet toasty warm under the canopy, a glowing heater keeping the chill off their eating cocoon. There were sparkling lights in the trees and chilled-out Christmas Sinatra coming from somewhere, plus a few staggering Santas who could possibly be part of the same run/bar crawl she and Susie
had seen earlier.
‘How’s your food?’ Seth asked her.
Lara smiled, passing the beer bottle over to him. ‘It’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Honestly?’ he said, taking the bottle from her.
‘Really. It’s something I would never usually have gone for, but it’s so good.’ She put some more pasta on her fork and offered it over the table. ‘You want to try some?’
‘You want to try some of this?’ he replied.
‘I don’t even know what an eggplant is,’ she admitted.
‘You call it something different … give me a second …’ He held his finger in the air as if thinking. ‘Aubergine.’ He smiled. ‘It’s aubergine.’
‘And all I really know about that vegetable is people use the emoji of it when they want to reference a penis.’
‘What?’ Seth exclaimed, laughter bursting out.
‘You didn’t know that? And now I’ve said “penis” on a first date.’ She leaned a little forward, still holding her forkful of pasta. ‘And those two women across from us now really want to listen in to the rest of our conversation.’ She proffered her fork. ‘Try the pasta.’
He opened his mouth to accept the food and she watched him eating it, each movement of his lips making her think about their almost-kiss … and how wonderful tonight was. It was all so relaxed, so simple, so much fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt that way, if ever.
‘It’s good,’ Seth said, nodding. ‘It’s real good.’ He speared some aubergine with his fork and offered it to her. ‘Your turn.’
‘I’m not really a purple vegetable person.’
‘Don’t disappoint the ladies at the table over there,’ Seth teased.
She opened her mouth and seconds later her tongue was tasting a warm, soft, deliciously mellow flavour that was enhanced only with olive oil and a slight seasoning she couldn’t quite work out. ‘This is …’ she spoke through her mouthful. ‘Really good. I didn’t know it was going to taste like that.’
‘Now the women are turning in their chairs to make sure you’re eating actual food.’
Lara laughed, putting a hand over her lips. ‘Don’t make me laugh or it won’t stay in my mouth.’
‘God, Lara, those women are going to stroke out any second …’
‘Seth! Stop!’
‘I’m not doing a thing,’ he answered. ‘It’s all you … and their wild imagination.’ He took a swig of the Peroni and passed the bottle back to her.
‘Give me that,’ Lara said, swiping up the Birra Moretti from his side of the table and drinking some of that down.
‘So, I’ve given you Thai and Italian. What d’you think is next?’
‘Me in a food coma, probably.’
‘Oh, come on!’ Seth said. ‘I’ve seen you eat barbecue, remember?’
‘Rude!’
‘Well, what’s a country on your bucket list? There must be one place you’ve always wanted to go that you haven’t been.’
Lara shrugged. ‘Not really.’
‘No? Really? Not one country you’ve seen on TV or in magazines and thought, one day I really wanna go to that one place, if nowhere else?’
She thought about it for a second before answering him. ‘Everywhere seemed so far away. I’d see places and think they looked cool and interesting, but they were literally all out of my reach. I’ve never really had that much money, you know, to take holidays or even think about taking holidays so I didn’t dream too big.’
‘Lara, I didn’t mean to—’
‘No, it’s OK. I am what I am. And I’m happy with who I am most of the time. Happier in jeans, if I’m honest, but Susie wasn’t going to let me out of the apartment until I got changed and she practically blacked out when I said was wearing socks not tights.’ She took a sip of the Peroni and handed it over to Seth. ‘What’s your one country you want to go to but haven’t been.’
He sucked in a long, slow breath, his eyes on her, making her sit up a little straighter in response.
‘Honestly?’ he asked.
‘Nothing less than,’ Lara answered.
Seth looked suddenly serious and she really wondered what he was going to say. Did he want to head off to the depths of Peru or Cambodia? Or was he perhaps more into Scandinavia and the fjords?
‘I’ve never been to the UK,’ Seth said. ‘I’d really like to go there.’
She was stunned but she knew she had to respond. Because the UK wasn’t Appleshaw. The UK was a big country with lots of exciting things in it and him saying that had nothing to do with this date, this first, very loosely named date. She was not the only UK attraction. She was not the Queen or Stonehenge.
‘You should definitely visit the UK,’ Lara began, knowing she was going to start gabbling at high speed and also knowing there was nothing she could do about it. ‘It’s nice. It has … flowers and … rivers … and lots of old, old things to see, like, Dame Maggie Smith and … St Paul’s Cathedral and there’s … red buses and black cabs and, where I’m from, there’s fields of wheat and combine harvesters and Morris dancing.’ She poked a forkful of pasta into her mouth to stop herself saying anything else. Then she hurriedly ground up the food and stated: ‘Brazilian,’ she said loudly.
She noticed the women at the table across from them raise eyebrows before nestling into a clique of conversation. Lara looked back to Seth. ‘Brazil,’ she said. ‘I’d like to go to Brazil. You know, the beaches, the sunshine, the fiestas, the dancing on the sand, the animals and … the coffee.’
Seth smiled, nodding. ‘Great choice.’
‘Have you been already?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘But, let’s finish our food and go.’
‘What?’ Lara said with a laugh.
‘You can go virtually anywhere in New York,’ Seth told her. ‘Let’s go to Brazil.’
‘You’re serious?’
‘Absolutely,’ he said with a smile. ‘And, for the record, I’m really digging your socks.’
And suddenly it was like a whole salsa beat carnaval was parading around her heart.
Forty-Seven
Brazil Brazil, West 46th Street
It was a total contradiction, the snow layered on the sidewalk, the ice-cold air, the city decked out for the approaching holidays, then the samba beat and Brazilian vibe spilling out of the Brazil Brazil restaurant. The two trees outside were swirled with lights like the Brazilian flag – green, white, yellow and blue – and the wooden planters that framed the outside area were filled with a mix of winter foliage and festive sparkle. And Lara was holding his hand. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but, when they had got up out of their seats at Caffe Napoli, heading for the subway, they had kinda brushed arms like they had been the whole night. But, this time, instead of offering his arm to her, he had held out his hand and suggested they run in pursuit of a jogging Santa Claus carrying a six-pack of beer. She had put her hand in his and they had laughed, a little buzzed from the beer, heading up the street singing ‘Jingle Bells’. And neither of them had let go. She had held his hand on the train, up the steps from the train, down the street and now, outside the restaurant, she was still holding his hand. And he really really liked it.
‘Oh my God, Seth!’ Lara exclaimed, eyes looking through the doors to inside. ‘This really is like Brazil.’
‘I told you,’ Seth replied, adoring her thrill. ‘You can travel anywhere in NYC.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Wanna get dessert?’
She turned to face him. ‘I don’t even know what Brazilians eat for dessert.’
‘Shall we find out?’ he suggested.
She nodded enthusiastically, and he led the way.
Lara took in everything. The varnished, bare-board floor, the beaded ceiling, the Brazilian flag pinned in the middle. Wooden chairs, tables with plain white cloths and low cage-style lighting set the atmosphere. It was lively, the bar busy, and diners seemed to have moved on from eating formally and were just sitting with drinks, th
e remains of desserts or coffees. There were musicians at one end of the room – a man singing and playing guitar, another on a keyboard – one couple were dancing, swaying their hips in time to the sultry rhythm.
‘Beer?’ Seth asked her.
‘Yes please,’ she answered, then laughed. ‘I’ll have a Brazilian.’
‘You know that joke’s old already, right?’ he replied.
‘Oh, aubergine!’ she said dismissing him with a wave of her hand. She went back to watching the couple dancing, suddenly struck by the fact that she had never actually danced like that with someone else. Dan didn’t dance. Not even slow smooches when he was drunk. In the beginning she had always asked. In the end she had given up. In the end. She guessed that’s exactly where they were now. She swallowed. And there he was invading her thoughts again like an ever-present time-suck.
‘Lara,’ Seth said. Suddenly she felt her hand being tugged. It took her a second to realise she was still holding on to him tighter than ever. She immediately let go.
‘Sorry,’ she apologised, feeling stupid.
‘Hey, no, don’t be sorry. It’s just, I’ve gotta get my wallet out and pay and get beers and I need two hands, just for a second.’
‘I’ll find somewhere to sit,’ she said quickly.
By the time he had joined her, at a table next to potted palms on the edge of the dance floor, she had regrouped a little.
‘Brahma,’ Seth said, holding the bottle out to her. ‘And a dessert menu.’ He put the menu down on the table.
‘Thanks,’ Lara said, immediately taking a large gulp of beer. Brazilian courage, if that was a thing.
‘You want to look at the menu?’ Seth asked, sitting down next to her, facing the slow-dancing couple and the band.
‘In a bit,’ she answered. Ugh. What was she doing? She was letting Dan creep into this night and it was absolutely the last thing she wanted to do. Everything had been so wonderful, so completely right, so natural. Seth had offered her his hand and she had taken it, like it was something they did all the time, like it wasn’t a first date, like they were already an established couple and it had made her feel like she was starring in some sort of rom-com where the world might not be perfect but that she was zorbing in a couple’s bubble where nothing ugly could touch her. It had to be the beer. Perhaps beer from multiple countries wasn’t a good mix …