by Danika Stone
Laurent stuck out his hand. “It was very good to meet you, Mr. Nakama. I’d like to hear more about ‘Down Home’ and your career at the Tri-State Herald.” He glanced at Madi, winking, and she rolled her eyes. Laurent was laying it on a little thick. “I’d love to hear how you decided on a career in journalism.”
Charles’s face brightened into a beatific grin. “Well, then,” he said, chest swelling. “Next time you visit, Laurent, we’ll continue our little chat.” He nodded to Madi. “You two kids go on and have a good time. Just keep your phone on, Madi, and give me a shout if you need me to pick you up somewhere. I’ll let Sarah know you’ve gone out.”
She stared at him, expecting at any moment for some type of prankster film crew to come exploding out of the kitchen, and for her to be dragged back to her room. This was not her life.
“You sure?”
He nodded.
“That’s only if you want to go,” Laurent said. “I never actually asked. Are you busy, Madi?”
She turned back to find him staring at her with pleading eyes. Like this, he seemed young and uncertain, a high school student once more. The moment in New York—when she’d been almost certain Laurent was going to kiss her—returned in a wave of yearning. She had no idea why life had just done a one-eighty, but she wasn’t about to question the bright turn of fortune.
Rewrites could wait.
“Of course I want to go.” She couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “Ready to explore the booming metropolis of Millburn and mingle with a few of its cosmopolitan residents?”
Laurent tapped the camera hanging around his neck. “If you don’t mind being the guide, I’ll play photographer.”
Madi grabbed her coat and swung open the door. “Let’s check out the sights.”
“Sights?”
“First stop: a taste of Millburn’s best coffee.”
Laurent’s face took a decidedly greenish tint. “Oh no. Please tell me we are not going back to the train station.”
She laughed. “Definitely not.”
* * *
They were halfway down the block when Sarah’s first text message appeared.
When are you getting back?
Madi groaned, and Laurent looked over at her in concern.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Just fine,” Madi muttered as she typed in a reply.
i don’t know. (i just left, sarah!) is something wrong?
No. But I thought we were gaming tonight.
we can do that later
When?
SARAH i’m busy right now
But when can we hang out? We are supposed to be gaming right now. The rest of the team is ready to go. @StarveilBrian1981’s freaking out!
go ahead and play without me. tell brian to lead the team
I don’t want to.
then don’t! srsly, sarah. i need some space—all right?! (i’m with a BOY!) can you talk to dad about this or something?
He said I should text you.
i’ll be home later. chill please
Promise you’ll come back?
YES. please relax. i’m allowed to be out.
Promise me. You never promised.
…
PROMISE ME, MADI.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Laurent asked. “You look … tense.”
“It’s nothing. I mean, it’s something. It’s my sister. But I’m fine.” She gave him a tight smile. “I’m okay. Just let me send one more text.”
“Of course.”
Madi sent one last text, but she flicked off the phone’s ringer before she sent it.
fine. i promise
…
* * *
They walked down the shadowy street, warm patches of sunshine heavy on their shoulders, spring’s chill waiting in the shadows. With Laurent at her side, Madi hardly noticed. He paused at random moments, snapping pictures: a silhouette of a house, a single flower, an unfurled leaf.
They were halfway to the coffee shop when he stopped dead in his tracks.
“What?”
“The light through those branches,” he said breathlessly. “See there?”
It fell in bright bands. Any other moment and Madi would have walked past without noticing, but Laurent seemed attuned to beauty. She waited as he took a series of photographs.
He turned the camera on her. “And now my real reason for the camera…”
“Oh God, no.” She laughed, turning away. “Please don’t.”
She thought he’d do it anyhow. (She would have.) But Laurent dropped the camera back to his chest as soon as she said the words.
“I … I just don’t like how I look,” she explained.
“You don’t?”
“I—Yeah, no.” She laughed. “And pictures make me look weird.”
“All right. No pictures of you.” The corner of his mouth curled. “Unless you change your mind and ask.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
He smiled and they walked on.
“So why’d you decide to come out?” Madi asked. “Surely you couldn’t be craving Millburn coffee.”
“Ah, no! But I had other reasons.”
Madi smirked. “Those reasons being…?”
“You sounded upset when you texted, so I decided to visit.” He ducked his chin so his hair fell over his eyes. “And not just for half an hour of drinking terrible coffee.” He lifted his eyes and grinned. “Besides, I wanted to share my news with you.”
“Your news?”
“I’ve been accepted to the College d’Arts in Paris. I’ve been waiting and waiting. And today I got my answer.” Laurent grinned. “Next year I’ll be learning professional photography. I’m in!”
“Oh my God, that’s—that’s—that’s freaking AMAZING!”
“I’ve been dying to tell someone! And then when we talked, I wanted to tell you, but you were upset, so—”
“You came out!” Madi laughed. “I’m so happy for you, Laurent. That’s fantastic! You’ll be a famous photographer someday.”
He reached out, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Maybe you’ll let me photograph you then?”
She looked away, smiling. “Maybe.”
“Maybe works for me. Just means I’ll have to convince you.”
He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, but Madi couldn’t reply. Her eyes skimmed the street. They were far from the Nakama house, but she could sense people watching behind half-parted curtains. The sense of being on display pushed away her excitement, and she walked faster, Laurent easily matching her pace.
After a moment Laurent spoke again. “I’m relieved about the College d’Arts. I wasn’t sure if I’d get in or not. My grades aren’t what yours are.” He chuckled. “I applied for a couple here in the States, too. The Rhode Island School of Design and the School of Visual Arts in New York both have great photography programs.”
Madi’s breath caught. Please let Laurent stay here!
“And…?”
His smile dimmed. “And nothing. It’s all right, though. The College d’Arts is a fantastic choice. I honestly didn’t expect to get accepted. The admittance interviews are much harder to do when you live on another continent.”
“I’d think so.”
“Thankfully, videoconferencing seemed to work.”
“That’s fantastic!”
“It’s an amazing program. And the college is close to my family’s apartment in Paris, so I’ll be able to save money.”
“That’s so cool. God! Living in Paris? What an awesome life! I’d kill to have a chance to do that.”
“I’m hoping to complete the photography courses in three years, rather than four. Maybe get out and do a work term in my last semester. I’ve been looking forward to learning more about photography. But the College d’Arts is beyond my expectations! During my interview I showed them a bunch of pictures I took in New York this year. The portfolio was a big factor in
my favor.”
Madi reached out and squeezed his hand. “That’s really awesome, Laurent!” Nervous, she giggled and let go again. “I’m kind of starstruck here. That sounds like my dream life!”
He grinned. “I think so.”
“Paris … wow. What I wouldn’t do to live there!”
Laurent tugged her gently to a stop. They stood on the sidewalk, the sounds of the city echoing around them. He stepped forward, so close she had to crane her neck to see him. His hands slowly slid down her shoulders until he caught her fingers in his. He didn’t let go.
“I’m glad I came to tell you,” he murmured.
Heart pounding, Madi smiled. “Me, too.”
And they walked, hand in hand, the rest of the way to the coffee shop.
12
“This is true love—you think this happens every day?”
(The Princess Bride, 1987)
“Verdict?” Madi asked as the lingering taste of perfectly roasted coffee and steamed milk faded on her tongue.
“Mmmm…” Laurent took the last swallow of his coffee and closed his eyes, breathing slowly.
“It’s good, right?”
“Well…”
“Well, what?”
He opened one eye. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You’re stalling, Laurent,” she said drily. “I can tell, you know.”
“Not stalling. Deciding.”
“If you can’t decide, it’s got to be good.”
He grinned and pushed the empty cup aside. “You think so?”
“Oh, come on! You know it’s good. Better than good … great, even!”
“Fine. The coffee was very good,” he said with a wink. “But…” He paused dramatically. “I’ve had better.”
A swell of laughter broke from Madi’s throat. “I don’t believe it!”
“It’s true.”
“This here,” Madi said, “is the best coffee in the world!”
Laurent covered his mouth with his hand. “In Millburn, maybe,” he whispered.
“What did you say to me?”
He stood, dropping money onto the table. “Nothing at all.”
“You did!”
“Nope. You’re imagining things.”
Madi tried to block him, but he dodged past and headed out the door to the owner’s shout of “See you again soon!”
“I’m not imagining anything,” Madi said, laughing. “You said something there. Is this a comparison to Parisian coffee or something?”
Laurent turned, putting his hands on her shoulders. “It was very good coffee, Madi,” he said. “Wonderfully so.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Told you so.”
“You did, and it was. Almost perfect.”
“So you admit it!”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. To be stubborn?”
“Ah, but stubborn is your thing, not mine.”
She laughed, and Laurent slid his arm over her shoulder, resting it there. “I like that about you,” he said.
“Good thing.”
They were coming up with excuses to touch now. Little moments—passing the cream and sugar, or sliding into the booth—became tiny excuses for exploration. Ever so slowly, Laurent’s hands slid down her arms, catching hold of her fingers. Madi’s gaze flitted around the empty street, and then she relaxed. There was no one here who she knew.
“This was really fun today,” she said.
“It was.” Laurent checked his watch, and her expression saddened.
“Is it time for you to leave already?”
“Oh no. I’ve still got a couple hours before my train leaves. There’s time for more.”
Madi turned around, still holding his hand. “Doing what?”
“It’s almost sunset. Let’s go someplace different.”
Madi raised an eyebrow. “Different, meaning what?”
“I don’t know. A park or downtown or something. Train yard, maybe? Someplace I can take pictures. What was the place you were telling me about? The place you and your sister used to play.”
“The ruins!”
A short fifteen-minute walk took them to the Colonial Inn. As they followed the path into the park that surrounded it, the heat of the day leeched away. Birdsong filled the trees. Careful to avoid the guests and owners, Madi and Laurent tiptoed across the manicured lawn.
“We used to play here all summer,” Madi said, leaning against the rock foundation. “Just Sarah and me, for hours and hours. I love it here at the ruins.”
The sun dropped in the sky, brightening the surrounding houses, blue shadows contrasting with warm, sun-drenched colors.
“It’s beautiful.” Laurent lifted his camera, focusing on the lake, visible beyond the ruins. “Do you mind if you’re in this one?”
Madi grinned and turned away. “Not really. But are you sure you want me in the picture? Won’t I wreck it?”
“You’re just a silhouette,” he said, taking several shots. “It’s better this way. A little contrast with the landscape. Hold on, I’ll show you what I mean.”
Laurent set to work, moving from one side to the other. The light faded until the clouds were only painted crimson. A bright canvas against the black.
“Perfect,” he murmured. “Just perfect…”
An endless time later, he finished to find Madi watching him, a pensive smile on her face. He dropped his chin in embarrassment.
“Sorry. That took longer than I thought.”
“I liked watching you work,” she said. “You’re very intense when you’re behind the camera. Very focused.”
Laurent grinned. “It’s where I feel the most ‘real,’ you know? Everything else fades until it’s nothing but me and the lens.”
“Writing’s like that for me.”
“That’s your art.”
A flurry of movement from the side caught his eye and he lifted the camera, taking a series of snapshots as two birds took off from the underbrush and flew across the lake.
“Can I see?”
“Of course.” Laurent brought the camera to Madi, flipping through the digital images on the screen.
“Oh, wow! That’s really beautiful, Laurent.” Her fingers brushed his as she pulled the camera closer and squinted at the screen. “The lake looks like it goes on forever. And the ruins are gorgeous.”
“Here,” he said, zooming in the frame. “You can see them better this way.”
Madi moved through, one by one, inspecting the photos. After a long while, she turned to him and smiled. “This one with the birds is my favorite.”
“I’ll send it to you,” Laurent said. He turned his gaze back to the lake. The clouds parted and a line of light appeared above the horizon, sunset’s final blaze.
“Ah! Look there!”
The top of the highest stone on the ruins was bathed in gold, but the light would only last a minute.
“I’m going up!” Laurent clambered to the edge of a broken stone wall, finding footholds, and climbed to the top. He stood slowly, hands outstretched. From here, the perspective changed: the small lake and the paved path around it, the rooftops and the lights of the Colonial Inn twinkling in the distance.
“Come up,” he said, offering his hand. “You can see forever from up here.”
“I’m scared of heights, Laurent.”
“Pfft! It’s hardly more than ten feet off the ground,” he said, waggling his fingers. “I won’t let you fall. Promise!”
“You go,” she said, giving him a lingering once-over. “The view from down here is just fine. Thanks!”
He laughed aloud, then jumped from the top straight down to the ground.
Madi squeaked in surprise. “You’re crazy!” she laughed.
He put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re right. The view from down here is pretty amazing.”
He caught hold of her hand and pulled her toward the paved path that circled Diamond Mill Pond, around the inn, and behind th
e line of houses.
“Quel bel endroit!”
“What?”
“It’s so beautiful. No wonder you played here as a girl.” He took another photograph and another.
Madi reached out to touch his hand. “Hold on a second,” she said. “It’s going to be dark soon. I wouldn’t want to trip.”
“Of course not.”
They strolled hand in hand, watching the disk of light travel the last few degrees, sky and water blending together. The circuit was an easy walk and barely ten minutes later they were back around the other side, the Colonial Inn shining like a lantern behind them. The voices of guests on the veranda wafted forward, music coming from the dining room.
Madi knew that someone there might see them together, but at this moment, she didn’t care. Her fingers tightened in Laurent’s. Tonight everything felt exactly right.
* * *
Madi was almost out of breath when they made it back around the path to the ruins, but she had no intention of telling Laurent that his long legs were an issue to keep up with. She’d gladly do cardio if it meant another moment holding his hand. When he stopped to photograph a swirl of night-flying insects around a lamp, she perched on a stone slab, watching. He was in his element here, taking pictures. She liked seeing it.
After he finished, Laurent sat down beside her and set his camera aside. It wasn’t until his hand brushed her back that Madi realized he’d moved closer. His leg was pressed alongside hers, the warmth spreading from one to the other.
Madi looked up. “What are you…?”
Her words faded as she realized he was staring down at her, so close she could see how his eyes held flecks of gold in the depths of mossy green, the same shade as the glitter on the lake. Laurent reached out, his fingers tracing the shape of one black brow, then moving to her lips, before sliding along her jaw, to bury themselves in her hair.
“I wanted to kiss you at Penn Station that day.”
Madi tried to answer, but couldn’t. She was trapped by his eyes.
“May I?” he asked, moving closer.
She wanted something funny or smart to say—like some kind of moment from the movies when the sassy heroine tells it like it is—but she was no Molly Ringwald, and her words and brain had parted ways. When Laurent moved no farther, she realized that he was still waiting for her agreement, and since she was mute, this moment was going to end before it began.