“It’s dangerous.” Henley didn’t seem to notice my slipup. “And what did I say about slowing down on the alcohol? We should probably start walking back to get you some water.”
“Hydrating is good,” I said, taking his arm. “You’re not going to miss the party?”
“No. I don’t need that,” he said.
When we stepped outside, the cooler air hit us in the face and the light blinded us. The sound—the music and the voices—escaped through the door with us and leaked out onto the street. Once the door was closed, it was amazing how soundproof it was. Or maybe it just seemed that way because our ears were ringing.
“I didn’t realize it was that loud in there,” Henley said. “I’m yelling just to hear myself now.”
“Shh, there are probably other people on the street. It’s still the middle of the day.”
Henley said something.
I shook my head. I couldn’t hear it.
“How are you feeling?” he said, much louder. “I don’t care that I’m yelling in the streets. You’re the one who’s drunk in the middle of the day.”
He linked arms with me, and I leaned my head toward him as we walked.
The sun was warm on our backs. It felt like the same warmth I had drunk earlier. It felt good. Everything felt good.
“You know something?” I tilted my head up at Henley.
He was patient with me. “What?”
“We’re going to be okay.”
“I hope so.”
Henley wheeled me in through the hostel lobby past a baffled Aaron. “She’s drunk? It’s still daytime,” I think I heard him say. He was laughing.
Henley stood me outside our door.
“You forget the key?” I asked.
“No, but I did think we’d end this stereotypical date in a stereotypical way.”
I was confused.
But then his lips were on mine. It was the first time he had kissed me since 1904. It was worth a century. Even through the haze in my mind, he tasted sweeter than any drink. He made my cheeks warmer—all the way down to the base of my neck. And there was something else, something I felt with my whole body.
He pulled away. “Had to end our first proper date with a proper kiss on the doorstep.” Henley unlocked the door and held it open. “Ladies first.”
I ducked under his arm and made a beeline directly for the bed. I didn’t know what to think, but I did know my martinis were something I needed to sleep off.
TWELVE
THE BED MOVED beside me, and I opened my eyes.
“Had a nice nap?” Henley asked.
I realized I had fallen asleep on my stomach. As I slowly turned over, I became aware of how sore my body felt. Finally on my back, I rolled my shoulders.
“You slept pretty soundly,” Henley said. “You didn’t move at all. At one point, I thought I should make sure you were still breathing.”
I probably also slept strangely on my arm. That was probably why I was so sore and stiff.
“You even snored.”
That got my attention. “I did?”
“Yes, you did. A lot.”
Now that was embarrassing. Especially in front of Henley.
“It was probably from the alcohol. At least you know now what it does to you.”
“Makes me feel warm and good?” I said.
“And able to sleep through the end of the world.” Henley propped himself up with his pillow.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Just a few hours,” Henley said.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked like you needed it,” he said. “Besides, it’s not as if there’s anything we need to do urgently now. I did take the opportunity to talk to Alanna and Peter, though.”
“You talked to them? Without me?”
He poked me. “Don’t look so shocked. I like having friends and socializing too. Anyway, they invited us out for drinks.”
I groaned into my pillow. “Ugh, drinks.” I liked green apple martinis, but I felt so tired after drinking. I just wanted to lie down.
“Exactly. I thought you’d have that reaction,” Henley said. “Which is why I got them to do breakfast tomorrow instead.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
I didn’t even have to look at Henley to know that he was smirking.
The next morning started off rushed.
“We were supposed to be in the lobby to meet Alanna and Peter ten minutes ago!”
“I know, I know.” I was struggling to get my shoes on.
“You grabbed the backpack?” Henley asked, standing by the door.
“Yes. Look, it’s right here.” I dangled the backpack in front of me.
Henley pushed me out of the door to lock it behind me.
I ran down the hallway, not caring who I woke. It was time to get up anyway.
“There you guys are!” Alanna rose to give me a big hug.
A week or so ago, that would have scared me, but I was used to it enough to remember to hug her back.
Henley caught up to us.
“Peter.” Henley gave him a nod.
“Why is it that men don’t hug as much?” Alanna wondered. “You know, it’s not unmanly to hug it out.”
“Oh, we know, honey,” Peter said. “Just let us do our own thing.”
Alanna rolled her eyes, muttering “stubborn men” under her breath.
“So I heard you and Henley had a fun day yesterday?” Alanna pulled me along, out the door.
“Yes we did . . .” I was hesitant, not knowing how much Henley had told her. Had he mentioned how I had been tipsy for the first time?
“I also heard that you found a new drink that you liked.” She nudged me.
“Yes. A green apple martini,” I said.
“Very good. I like mine extra dry. I like that it’s sweet, but not too sweet that you can’t have it with appetizers.”
“I don’t drink that often,” I said. And it was true.
“I can imagine . . .”
I gave her a look. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Henley mentioned you got a little drunk yesterday. It wasn’t even dinner yet.” Alanna giggled.
“I’m not going to live that down for a while, am I?”
Alanna pretended to think for a moment. “Um . . . nope.”
“So where exactly are we going?”
Her steps were quickening. “There’s this marvelous crepe place we found. It’s just divine.”
“That good?” I said.
Alanna paused at a crosswalk. She looked both ways and even over her shoulder once before crossing. “We’re already heading toward it, and ‘good’ doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Alanna said, walking faster.
“She’s not kidding when she says it’s out of this world,” Peter said, rushing to keep up with her. “Not that Alanna would actually know . . . ,” he muttered.
“See! If Peter says it’s good, you know it has to be,” Alanna said.
“You two are walking so fast, it’s like you think this place will run out of food!” Henley said.
Alanna looked at him with a serious expression. “It’s so fantastic, I wouldn’t be surprised if it did.”
I grinned. “I guess we’ll have to put it to the test then, right, Henley? You do know that New York has some of the best breakfast places.”
“Oh, I agree. We need to see if it’s all that it’s cracked up to be,” Henley said.
“I’m sure you’ll love it as much as we do. You have to.”
We ended up walking into a restaurant that looked like a kitchen from a home-improvement magazine. The floor was tiled in black-and-white symmetrical patterns. The lights hung from upside-down brass cups that swung ever so slightly with the air conditioning. The room was full of light, reflecting off the silverware and white dishes.
“Four for brunch,” Alanna told the hostess.
We were led to a table with a view of the street. I squeezed myself
beside the window and Peter since Henley and Alanna had taken the other side.
“Here are your menus,” our waitress said. “Could I start you off with something to drink? Coffee or tea, perhaps?”
“Waters for all of us, please,” Henley said.
Alanna put up a hand. I noticed it looked freshly manicured—I wondered when she’d had time for that. “A mimosa for me . . . because I’m not Rebecca.”
Alanna smiled at me, causing the confused waitress to look my way.
“A coffee for me, please,” I said.
It didn’t take our waitress long to get us our drinks. I plopped two sugars into my coffee, trying hard not to splash.
“Looks like someone has a sweet tooth,” Peter said. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Alanna . . . or else she’d make you eat kale or something dreadful like that.”
“Kale?”
“Yeah, she’s a health freak. Or haven’t you noticed?”
I glanced at Alanna, who was busy scanning her menu.
“She told you the crepes are amazing here, right?” Peter said.
“Yeah . . .”
“Well she only knows that because I order them,” Peter said. “She’ll order the healthiest thing she can find on there. Like plain steamed broccoli or a boring salad sans dressing.”
“And you? You’re not into health?”
“Am I a health freak? Oh no. Thank God. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
The waitress came up to us. “Are you all ready to order?”
I had forgotten to look at the menu. I started furiously scanning it, hoping to find something before the waitress got to me.
“I’ll have the salmon crepe,” Henley said.
There was a pause as our waitress wrote that down. “And you, miss?”
I looked up. Thankfully, she was talking to Alanna.
“Oh, could I have the house salad?” she said. “But without the dressing?”
“Told you . . . ,” Peter whispered next to me.
“And you, sir?”
“The chocolate, banana, and strawberry crepe,” Peter said. To me, he said, “I have a sweet tooth too.”
I saw Alanna momentarily wrinkle her nose at Peter’s order.
“And you, miss?”
“The mushroom and poached egg crepe, please.”
When the waitress left, Alanna looked carefully at Peter.
“Here comes the lecture,” he murmured.
“Eighty, twenty,” she said. “You’re supposed to eat healthy eighty percent of the time and eat what you want twenty percent of the time. We both had those fish and chips a few days ago. And gelato. You need to eat healthier, Peter.” Alanna was almost yelling over the loud music and bustle in the restaurant.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Alanna huffed, but luckily Henley distracted her with some question.
“She means well,” Peter said. “She does it because she loves me. And by ‘it,’ I mean drive me raving mad. That’s why I chose to spend the rest of my life with her and not someone else.”
I smiled at that.
“You saw the ring, right?” Peter tilted his head at Alanna. “It’s pretty good, isn’t it?” He looked proud.
“Yes, I’ve noticed it before.” I turned to look closely at it now.
The oval diamond lay glittering on her finger. It looked like a rose-gold band. Simple, with something a little unique.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“Well, it should be. It took me forever to save up for it. So many odd jobs to scrape the money together . . . You know, I once was even a substitute teacher? Me. A teacher. Can you believe that? They wanted me to cut my dreads, but I put my foot down.”
I told him that I couldn’t believe it.
“But it was worth it. Alanna likes it. And she’s worth everything. I can’t wait to make it all official.”
“Official?”
“You know . . . marriage. The real deal,” he said.
That brought a smile to my face. Even a modern, slightly unconventional couple like Alanna and Peter were traditional enough to want to get married and have the bond between them validated by society. Yes, even a man who refused to cut his dreads.
He leaned in. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
“Alanna wants me to cut my dreadlocks for the wedding, but I probably won’t.” He smirked. “If she loves me, she’ll take me as I am. Dreads and all.”
I could imagine Alanna throwing a fit. “Not sure how happy she’ll be at that,” I said. “But hopefully she’ll warm up to the idea.”
“Oh no. I’m thinking of just not telling her until I show up on the day of the ceremony with my dreads.”
It was lucky for Peter that the restaurant was too loud for Alanna to hear him right now. I couldn’t imagine that going over well at all.
The food came, and Alanna’s face lit up.
“I can’t wait to dig in,” Henley said.
I raised my fork.
“Stop!”
We both looked up at Alanna, since she had been the one to bark at us.
“You can’t eat yet,” she said. “I need to take a few photos. Put that fork down!”
I obeyed, as Alanna pulled out a phone and stood up over the table to begin taking photos.
Henley’s eyes met mine. There was something urgent in them. He wanted to tell me something, but not in front of them. “Later,” he mouthed.
“Alanna always takes photos of her food before she eats it,” Peter said. “And if you’re eating with her, she’ll photo yours too. That’s like a cardinal rule of Alanna.”
“So . . . what does she do with all these photos of her food?”
“She posts them online. Sometimes to her blog, but definitely to Instagram,” Peter said.
I had never heard of Instagram.
Alanna sat down once she was done. “You guys can go ahead and eat now.”
“Blog?” I asked Peter as I picked up my fork again. I had to keep talking to keep my mind off worrying about what Henley wanted to tell me.
“Yeah, Alanna blogs. She didn’t tell you that?” Peter looked surprised, and then looked at Alanna across from him. “You didn’t tell them that you blog?”
“I must have mentioned it sometime,” she said. She gestured at the restaurant around us. “You know it’s not all my parents’ money.” Alanna laughed.
“Give them one of your business cards,” Peter said.
“Let’s see if I have one . . .” Alanna dug into the black cross-body bag she was carrying. “Here we go.”
She slid it across the table to me. I picked it up.
Alanna Santelli—Blogger of Colorful Plate and Dress
“So what do you write about?”
“The three Fs: food, fashion, fun. And basically anything else that comes to mind,” she said.
“And recently travel,” Peter added. “You can’t forget that.”
“Right. My blog’s been getting loads more hits from the outfit posts I’ve been doing at each place we travel to. And more hits mean more sponsors.”
“And what do the sponsors do?” Henley asked.
“Sponsors do everything, from donating stuff for free giveaways to providing me with clothing. Sometimes restaurants in the cities we visit sponsor me, and we’ll have a free meal provided I blog about it.”
“Interesting . . .” The gears in Henley’s mind seemed like they were churning. “Sounds strangely profitable, if you do it the right way.”
He was ever the businessman.
“Peter takes care of the finances for me,” Alanna said. “Not to mention, he also takes the photos for the outfit posts and the other photos I’m in.” She leaned across the table to touch Peter’s arm. “He’s incredibly helpful.”
Peter looked at me. “It’s how I earn my keep.” He chuckled. “Practically the only way I got her to say yes when I got down on one knee.”
Alanna slapped his hand. “That’s not true.�
��
“So when are you two getting married?” Henley asked.
“We’re still in the process of figuring everything out,” Peter said. He tilted his head at Alanna. “That’s because this one here can’t make up her mind between a summer or a winter wedding.”
“And that changes everything,” Alanna said. “On one hand, an outdoor summer wedding with wisteria in the garden would be so beautiful. On the other hand, can you imagine the lights and the snow outside during a December wedding?”
“So we need to get that decided before we decide anything else. That’ll dictate inside or outside, the location, everything.”
Alanna smiled. “There’s only one man crazy enough to marry someone as indecisive as me.”
“She means stupid enough,” Peter said, earning him another smack.
They seemed perfect together.
“But we’re definitely thinking of doing it this year or the next, depending on venue availability,” Alanna said. “You know, you both should come. In fact, you need to come.”
“To the wedding?” Henley looked a little startled.
“Of course! It’ll be wonderful to have you there. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, Peter?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Peter said.
I knew what Henley was thinking. We wouldn’t be there for the wedding. There was no way. We’d either be in another time . . . or dead.
I saw that Henley wasn’t going to answer anytime soon.
“We’d love to try,” I said. “I’m afraid things are up in the air for us as well.”
“Well, promise me you’ll try hard,” Alanna said.
“I promise.”
The rest of brunch was small talk. Alanna and Peter sounded so excited for the future. They were going to get an apartment someday, to finally settle down. An apartment with a yellow door, since that signified happiness to Alanna for some reason. They wanted a dog. The big, scruffy kind. Peter wanted to learn to cook. And Alanna wanted a closet bigger than the kitchen.
I was happy for them, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit envious. They had everything planned out. They could afford to dream about the future, because it was going to happen for them. Every time I thought about actually having a future with Henley, I felt like I was going to jinx it. We had to live day by day. Yes, that meant we were thankful for every moment we had with each other, but it just wasn’t fair. I wanted to think about kitchen countertops and argue about the color of bedding too. I wanted that with Henley.
The Day Before Forever Page 19