In 27 Days

by Alison Gervais

  When I got to the church, the gym doors were thrown open, light spilling out onto the pavement and a jazzy, fast-paced tune filling the night air. A few people were milling around by the entrance, soda or coffee drinks in hand as they greeted one another. I got a few smiles as I approached the doors. I purchased a ticket from the elderly couple sitting at a table just inside the doors, and walked farther into the gym, taking in the sights.

  Numerous strands of Christmas lights were strung across the ceiling, casting a dim, golden glow over the floor. An array of brightly decorated Christmas trees were set up in a far corner, stacks of presents piled beneath them. Long rows of tables had all sorts of plates and crockpots and trays full of food set on display, and people were lined up to get their share.

  I made my way through the tables of families laughing and eating together, searching for any familiar face. I was almost to the food line when I caught sight of Lauren DiRosario rushing toward me, a smile on her face.

  “Hadley! I’m so glad you could come!” she said excitedly, gripping my shoulders. “I swear, I thought I was going to go insane if there wasn’t another girl around.”

  I laughed. “Glad to be of help.”

  She linked her arm through mine and led me over to two tables that were occupied by the entirety of the Incitti family. Just like on Thanksgiving, I was bombarded with another round of squeezes and kisses and, “It’s so great to see you again, Hadley!”

  The only ones that were not present were Sofia, Ben, and their three children, who lived three hours away in Albany.

  Archer didn’t stand to greet me, but at least he smiled. He was slouched in his seat, picking at a plate of chicken and rice in front of him. I could tell by the expression on his face that his mind wasn’t totally in the present.

  “Hey,” I said, dropping into the empty seat beside him.

  He glanced up from his plate of food, opening his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His eyes traveled me up and down for a moment, and he raised an eyebrow, saying, “Nice dress.”

  “Um.” I yanked on the edges of my dress, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I was starting to wonder if I should have stuck with jeans and a T-shirt. “Thanks.”

  Archer blew out a sigh, dropping his fork, turning in his seat to lean closer to me. “After we eat, would you want to—”

  “Hadley, c’mon! Come get some food with me!”

  I was pulled out of my chair and tugged toward the food line with Rosie and Lauren before Archer would even finish his sentence. I shot a look at him over my shoulder, but he just gave me a smirk in return. One of the ladies working the food tables handed me a plate, and I piled it full with chicken and rice, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and a few scoops of fruit salad.

  I was forced into a seat beside Lauren and Karin, a few chairs over from Archer, who was now having an animated discussion with Vittorio and Art about the Italian national soccer team. I listened to the easy chatter around the table as I ate, trying to put all that had happened over the past few days from my mind.

  When I was with the Incitti family, it was easy to forget what brought me to Archer in the first place. It felt like I belonged here, with these people who treated me as if I were actually a member of their family. More to the point, I liked being with them all. I liked being with Archer. It was entirely screwed up that it had taken him ending his life to bring us together. If I had just gotten over my nerves and hadn’t been such a wimp in freshman English, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all.

  “Attention, everyone!”

  I looked up from my plate as Regina got to her feet, wine glass in hand, and the chatter around the table immediately died down. I didn’t know what kind of announcement Regina was about to make, but I wondered if it had something to do with her ex-husband’s appeal.

  “So, I’m pretty sure it’s no surprise that these have been a rough couple of days,” she began, taking a deep, steadying breath. “Carlo was in an accident, and we found out my ex-husband made a request to appeal his sentencing.”

  “I hope that jerk never sees the light of day again,” I heard Lauren mutter under her breath.

  “Well, after speaking with the former assistant DA who oversaw the trial,” Regina continued, beginning to smile, “we are very hopeful that the chances of my ex-husband being offered an appeal are slim to none.”

  Cheers and applause erupted around the table, loud enough to garner attention from half the people in the gym. It was well deserved, I thought. I glanced over at Archer as Regina took her seat after leaning over to hug her sister Karin. I could see he had a white-knuckled grip on his fork as he picked at the mashed potatoes on his plate, but the expression on his face was actually relaxed. That had to be a good thing.

  Archer looked up then, catching my gaze, and the smallest of smiles pulled at his lips. Definitely a good thing.

  When I’d eaten everything on my plate, I excused myself and made off in the direction of the desserts. When in doubt, always go for dessert. I grabbed another plate and dumped a handful of cookies on it, followed by a few squares of brownies, and a big piece of vanilla cake with pink buttercream frosting. This would absolutely upset my stomach, but Taylor liked to live by the saying calories don’t count during the holidays, and I was definitely in agreement.

  I forked off a bit of the cake and happily munched away as I returned to my seat. I only made it a few steps before Carlo suddenly appeared in front of me, a somewhat mischievous smile on his face. There were yellowing bruises on his face, and those dozen cuts were angry and red, but he otherwise looked as if he was well on his way to making a full recovery from the accident the other night.

  “It’s good to see you out of a hospital bed,” I said, grinning. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Well, I’m just fabulous, Hadley, thanks for asking,” he said before reaching over to snatch my desserts. He dumped the plate on a nearby table and wrapped an arm around my waist, steering me toward the dance floor.

  “Carlo!” I yelped, gripping his forearm tightly. “Hey, wait! I wanted to finish that cake!”

  “It can wait. I want to dance.”

  I gave up trying to make an escape, and instead let Carlo take the lead, placing a hand on his shoulder, my other hand in his own. “What are you doing?” I asked him, trying not to trip over my feet. “Trying to embarrass me?”

  “Not at all,” Carlo said smoothly. “Just trying to make my dear cousin jealous.”

  “He wouldn’t get jealous over me,” I insisted. I wanted to get off this dance floor as quickly as possible. “It’s not like that.”

  “His girl dancing with another guy? Who wouldn’t that make jealous?”

  “I’m not his girl,” I said, though I couldn’t help remembering how Archer had just used that term at lunch earlier today.

  Judging by the look on his face, Carlo obviously knew I was lying through my teeth. Then he gave a small sigh, and an unusually serious expression came over his face. I found it disconcerting that his charming smile wasn’t in place. The cuts and bruises from the other night weren’t helping.

  “What is it?” I pressed when he remained silent.

  “I’m not trying to sound rude, Hadley, but you don’t know Archer like the rest of us do. You don’t know how happy he used to be before Chris was killed.”

  I was taken aback by the abrupt change in conversation. Why was he bringing this up? “I know that,” I said hesitantly. “Regina said the same thing.”

  I would never know that side of Archer, and I found it strangely painful. The person Archer had been back then was long gone. I doubted he would ever return. It was an unusual feeling, missing someone I’d never known.

  “Because she’s right,” Carlo said. “You don’t see the change in him that we’re seeing. He’s different. He’s . . . happy. You should have seen the look on my grandma’s face when she heard Archer laughing on Thanksgiving.”

  I kept my eyes fixed on my feet, trying to keep my mind from j
umping to ridiculous theories about Archer and his happiness. It wasn’t working. “And you think . . . you think I’m the reason he’s happy?”

  “I think you’re playing a big part in it.”

  Wasn’t that what I’d been trying to do from the very beginning of my twenty-seven days?

  “Don’t doubt yourself,” Carlo said, tugging me away from my distracting thoughts.

  “I don’t—”

  “I just wanted to tell you that you shouldn’t doubt what you are to Archer. Because you are something. And I love my cousin. I like seeing him happy. We all do.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth before I could stop it. I liked Carlo. He was typical for a guy his age the majority of the time, but he was also pretty perceptive. I could see myself being his friend.

  “You see things,” I said.

  His devilish smirk returned. “So do you.”

  “But . . . Archer doesn’t,” I said as an afterthought.

  “No,” Carlo agreed. “He doesn’t. But he sees you.”

  The song ended, and couples broke apart, clapping politely for the band. I stepped away from Carlo, and we both joined in clapping.

  “Thank you, Carlo,” I told him. “For the dance.”

  “Thank you, Hadley.” I froze when he moved forward and pressed his lips against my cheek in a surprisingly affectionate gesture—one that didn’t seem right for a fifteen-year-old guy. “Stick around, won’t you?”

  He shot me one of his special grins and wandered off, leaving me behind on the dance floor. I wasn’t completely sure of what just happened, but I was glad I had gotten the chance to talk to Carlo. It was difficult to doubt the sincerity of his words. I was going to do my best to take them to heart.

  I had to force myself to move and leave the dance floor when the next song started and couples began to dance again. I went on a hunt for the bathroom, only to run into Archer the moment I stepped out into the small hallway off the side of the gym.

  “Sorry,” I said, taking a step back. “I didn’t see—”

  “Dance with me.”

  That was the last thing I was expecting him to say. I didn’t dance. He didn’t dance. Did he? “What?”

  “Dance with me,” Archer repeated. The expression on his face was completely serious.

  I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Why would Archer want to dance with me? Had Carlo actually succeeded in making him jealous?

  “You’ll dance with my cousin, but you won’t dance with me? Gee, thanks, Hadley.”

  I laughed without thinking. “I’ll step on your feet,” I warned him. “Just ask Carlo.”

  Archer’s lips turned upward in a grin. “I’ve got big feet.”

  He laced his fingers through mine and pulled me through the hallway, back to the gym and out onto the dance floor while I spluttered in embarrassment. The band had struck up a slow, sweet tune that sounded as if it had come straight out of the forties.

  Archer wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer, taking my hand in his free one. It was distracting how warm his skin was against mine. I was positive he could feel how hard my heart was pounding from our close proximity. I’d already tripped over his feet twice, but I was going along with it. It was nice, even. We were together, and for that moment, it was enough.

  CHAPTER 27

  It Happened One Night

  It had already been snowing for quite some time when I walked out of the gym after saying my good-byes to the Incitti family. Archer and I had only danced that one dance, but I couldn’t help the giddy feeling that bubbled up inside every time I thought of his hand in mine. I raised my arm to hail a cab, but stopped when I heard a voice call my name.

  “Hadley? Wait up a second! Hadley!”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Archer jogging toward me. “Did I forget something?” I said as he came to a stop in front of me.

  “Yeah,” Archer answered. “Me. I’m going to take you home.”

  For a second, I thought I misheard him. “You’re going to take me home,” I repeated.

  “Last time I checked, you’re not in need of a hearing aid,” he said dryly. “You heard me. I’m taking you home.”

  I didn’t protest. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to find the words.

  “You know, this is feeling awfully like a date, Morales,” I said as we began to head down the street in search of a cab. “Having dinner, you asking me to dance, and now you taking me home.”

  Archer laughed. “When I take you on a date, Jamison, my family isn’t going to be involved in any way whatsoever.”

  I somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other, even though my heart gave a ridiculous leap in my chest and my breath caught in my throat. He said when I take you on a date. Not if. It was impossible to squash the feeling of hope washing over me.

  “Well, regardless,” I said, hoping my voice sounded normal. “Thank you.”

  Archer shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as we walked along. There were hardly any cars driving by on the street, or other people out on the sidewalks, and it seemed almost unnatural that there was such a lack of noise in New York. Snowflakes were falling in soft waves, blanketing the city in a cover of white. It was like a dreamland.

  When we finally did catch a cab, we had walked three blocks. I gave the driver my address, and Archer and I settled in for the ride. It passed faster than it would have had there been traffic, and for that, I was thankful. I was anxious to get out of the car. I let my hand rest on the seat beside me, and it was growing increasingly difficult not to just reach over and lace my fingers through Archer’s.

  I let Archer pay the fare, noticing the dirty look he shot my way when I reached for my wallet, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Hanson had already gone home for the night, otherwise I would’ve enjoyed introducing him to Archer.

  The night doorman pulled open the door of the apartment complex for us with a polite nod, and we walked across the lobby, toward the elevator. I kept a watchful eye on Archer as we rode up to the seventh floor. I couldn’t help but feel as if there were unsaid things in the air between the two of us. What exactly did tonight mean? Something had obviously changed. He had to know that as well as I did.

  I pulled my keys out of my coat pocket as the elevator doors slid open, and Archer and I walked down the hallway to 7E in silence.

  “So.” My hand stilled as I slid the key into the lock. I was too nervous to look over my shoulder at Archer. “Thanks . . . for, um, taking me home,” I said weakly.

  “I’m not a total jerk,” Archer said teasingly. “My mother raised me to be a gentleman, thank you very much. I know better than to let a girl walk home alone at night.”

  I glanced over at him with a wide grin. “Could’ve fooled me. Do you want to come in?”

  The words flew from my lips before I even knew what I was saying. I didn’t want this night to be over just yet, and even if it meant throwing myself out there and possibly making a fool of myself, I’d do it just to spend more time with Archer.

  Confusion was plastered across his face. “What?”

  I sucked in a deep breath and did my best to smile. “Do you want to come in? There’s always some good movie on one of the classic channels this time of night.”

  It took a moment of thought on his part, and in those seconds I thought for sure he was going to say no, but then he grinned. “As long as you have popcorn.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  I unlocked the door and pushed it open, reaching in to turn the lights on. Archer followed cautiously after me into the apartment, peering around with a shrewd look in his eyes. He’d barely stepped over the threshold before he was saying, “You’re joking.”

  “What?” I set my bag on the coffee table, looking at him curiously. “Is there something—”

  “You live here?” He gestured around at the living room, the leather couches and the flat-screen TV, the floor-to-ceiling windows, as if that was th
e only explanation I needed.

  “Um, yeah,” I said uncomfortably. “My mom has a flair for decorating. Sometimes I wonder why she went into business instead of interior design.”

  Archer continued to stand just past the doorway, long enough for me to worry that he was actually going to make a break for it, his eyes still roaming around the apartment. “Well,” he finally said, sounding awkward. “I guess you really do work for us because you like us. Not because you need the money.”

  Finally, I thought, feeling elated. I like you, you idiot. I was hoping he recognized that little difference in the equation.

  I made two bags of microwave popcorn as requested, and we settled on the couch together, the black-and-white film It Happened One Night playing on the TV. It might not have been what our classmates were doing on a Friday night, but I didn’t think either of us cared. We’d definitely gotten the better end of the deal.

  When I opened my eyes, the movie was still playing on the TV. Archer was asleep on the opposite side of the couch, his head pillowed on his arm, the other covering part of his face, his breathing slow and steady. I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face, looking at the time on the cable box. We’d barely been out for half an hour, but I guess we’d both been more tired than we thought.

  “Archer?”

  He didn’t budge.

  “Archer?” I repeated, this time louder.

  Nothing.

  “Are you awake?” I said, moving up onto my knees to lean over him.

  “I am now.” He sucked in a heavy breath and opened his eyes, propping himself up onto an elbow. He took in his surroundings for a moment before glancing over at me with a frown. “We fall asleep?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s almost eleven.”

  “Huh,” Archer said.

  I was surprised at his uncaring attitude toward the hour. “Your mother and grandmother probably aren’t going to be very happy with you.”