Macarons at Midnight

by Suzanne Nelson

  “Trouble?” Dad laughed, giving me a huge hug. “How could you even think that? Your mom and I will need to talk about it, but we’d love to have you with us, for as long as you’d like.”

  “It would be wonderful,” Gail said, smiling while Destry cooed over Sabina.

  Worry passed over Dad’s face as he glanced back at me. “But … are you sure? About staying longer?”

  I glanced at Gail and Destry and Sabina, then at my dad’s proud face, so full of love. This was my family, as much as Mom and Bill were. For the first time, I felt like a true part of it. Not a part being wedged into place out of necessity or circumstance, but a part made to fit.

  “I’m sure.” I gave Dad a kiss on the cheek, smiling. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

  I had no idea what time it was when Dad finally took Destry and me home from the hospital, but Saturday night had become Sunday morning by the time we fell into bed, exhausted but too excited to sleep.

  When I finally drifted off, it seemed as though I’d only closed my eyes for a few seconds when I heard the doorbell ringing. Dad had told us that he was going back to the hospital as soon as the sun came up, so I knew he wouldn’t answer the door. And across the room, Destry was snoring like a gurgling teapot, so it was me or nobody.

  I stumbled out of bed, eyes still half closed and, after pulling on my sweats, felt my way to the door. I peered through the keyhole, then groaned inwardly at the sight of Viv, holding a stuffed pink unicorn and looking uncharacteristically nervous.

  “Open up, Lise,” she said, knocking loudly. “I know you’re in there. I can practically hear you thinking how much you hate me.”

  I took a deep breath and opened the door. “I don’t hate you,” I said grudgingly. “But the unicorn is up for debate.”

  “Really?” Viv said, giving the unicorn a squeeze, then pushing past me into the house. “Good thing it’s for the baby, then.” She giggled nervously, but when she saw I wasn’t returning her smile, she sighed. “Look, we need to talk.”

  I folded my arms. “There’s nothing to talk about. I saw you kissing Raj last night. I know I have to get over him, and I will. Because …” I stared at the ground, and took a deep breath. “Because I don’t want to lose your friendship. It’s just going to take a little while.”

  “Wait.” Viv’s eyes widened. “Kissing?”

  I nodded. “Under the gazebo. I saw you when I was leaving the dance.”

  Viv shook her head. “I don’t know what you thought you saw, but we weren’t kissing. Anything but.” A frown pulled at her mouth. “I was ending it with him.”

  I gaped at her. “But why?”

  “I saw the way he was looking at you while you were dancing. He’s never looked at me like that. But even before that, I knew it wasn’t going to work. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

  I bit my lip, confused. “One dance doesn’t mean he’s into me,” I said.

  “No, but this does.” Viv plopped the unicorn into my hands, reached into her messenger bag, and pulled out Raj’s sketchbook. “Raj left his sketchbook in my dad’s car on the way to the dance last night. Since his mom picked him up right after our talk, I didn’t get a chance to give it back to him. I guess he did this sketch after our Concord trip,” she said softly. She flipped the sketchbook open to a page in the middle, then held it up for me to see.

  I stared at the page as my knees turned to putty. There I was, drawn in charcoal and pastels, my face tilted toward an unseen sun, my eyes closed, a daydreamy smile on my lips, my dark hair spilling out behind me and twining with a tangerine breeze that blew across the page.

  “It’s not me he likes,” Viv whispered. “It’s you.”

  “But … but …” For once, I didn’t have words, written or otherwise, to match the moment. A million thoughts raced through my head.

  “I was horrible for acting the way I did,” Viv continued sadly. “Raj wasn’t ever mine to begin with. We’re not right for each other. Not even close. But I got caught up in his niceness.” She smiled. “And then, well, you know how I get with boys.” She gave a shrug. “I wanted to like him, but honestly, I couldn’t. Not when I kept feeling guilty. I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” I said, feeling a jumble of emotions. “It was as much my fault as yours. I should’ve told Raj the truth about who I was from the very beginning. It wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position with him, and then expect it not to get complicated.” I glanced at her. “So … can we be friends again?”

  Viv grinned, then hugged me. “We never weren’t.” She pulled away, looking at me sternly. “But you have to do something to make things right. You have to tell him the truth!”

  “I can’t,” I said. “It’s too late. When he finds out I’ve been lying this whole time, he’ll never want to speak to me again.”

  “Maybe. Or … maybe not. There’s only one way to find out.”

  “But what about you?” I asked, biting my lip.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Viv said with a suspiciously cheerful smile.

  My mouth dropped open when I saw a blush creeping over her cheeks. “Are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you’re already onto another crush? Who is it?”

  I’d never seen her so flustered before, but she finally blurted, “Kyan.”

  I burst out laughing and clapping. “It’s about time!”

  “I knew you knew he liked me!” Viv declared. “You were dropping hints about him all along, and I was oblivious, right?”

  “Pretty much,” I said teasingly. “But … when?”

  “At the dance,” Viv said shyly. “Raj left after we talked, and Kyan and I ended up hanging out for hours. We talked about the stuff going on with my mom, and how she was going to let me take a break from modeling. I told him that I was thinking about running for student body later this spring, and he offered to help me with the campaign! Then he asked me to dance out in the gazebo, and then, the next thing I knew, we were kissing! And … it was amazing!”

  I laughed. “We are talking about Kyan?”

  She blushed all over again. “I never would have guessed it. But he completely swept me off my feet. He’s so kind, and thoughtful, and cute, even with the bug thing.”

  I laughed. So Kyan had gotten his Casanova on. I couldn’t wait to call him later. “Just don’t go all praying mantis on him, okay?”

  “Me? Never going to happen,” Viv said adamantly. “Not with a guy like him.”

  And here’s what was really crazy. For once, I believed her.

  “Here,” Viv said, putting Raj’s sketchbook in my hands. “You should be the one to give this back to Raj.”

  I nodded, my pulse picking up at the mere thought of telling Raj the truth. “I have no idea how I’m going to do this.” But then, suddenly, I did know, and it was perfect.

  “We have to go,” I said, grabbing my coat and pulling her toward the door as I checked my watch. “It’s eleven,” I mumbled, more to myself than to Viv. “Madame Leroux should be there already, getting ready for the Grand Opening in five hours …”

  “Wait!” Viv said. “What are you talking about? And who’s Madame Leroux?” She stopped in the doorway stubbornly.

  “I’ll tell you everything while we walk.” I scribbled a quick note to Destry and left it propped up against the inside of the door.

  “Okay,” Viv said hesitantly. “But … where are we going?”

  “Swoonful of Sugar,” I said. “I just figured out how I’m going to tell Raj who I am.”

  The Grand Opening was scheduled for four p.m. After stopping by the hospital to see Sabina, and then rushing home and changing, I was back outside Swoonful at three forty-five.

  I kept pacing outside the door. I tried my best to look nonchalant, but since pacing is anything but, it only took a few minutes for Madame Leroux to take pity on me.

  “Bienvenue, cherie,” she said, waving me into the patisserie. Even with her apron on, she looked elegant, with her hair in a perfect chignon. “Y
ou’ve come to check up on my decorating skills, yes?”

  “Oh no,” I blustered. “I mean, I just wanted to see …” My voice trailed off in embarrassment.

  Her laugh had soothing bell tones. She turned toward the long wall behind the café tables, sweeping an arm in the air with a grand gesture. “Now tell me. Does the display meet your approval? I think it has that certain je ne sais quoi, don’t you?”

  I glanced at the twelve paintings and sketches hanging carefully along the wall. I’d chosen them earlier today after asking Madame Leroux if she needed some inspiring artwork to go along with her delicious pastries. I’d chosen my favorite pieces from Raj’s sketchbook, and they looked brilliant on the wall, their vivacious strokes and bright colors fitting in perfectly with the atmosphere, like this was where they belonged.

  “I love it,” I said. “I hope he does, too.”

  Madame Leroux nodded as she slid her apron from over her head, tucking it behind the counter. “What you’ve done, you’ve done from the heart. He will see that.”

  “If he comes,” I said.

  It was a big if, and as the minutes passed and four o’clock came and went, I started to think that he wouldn’t. Madame Leroux was handing out free macarons, and customers streamed in steadily. She put a brimming plateful of them in front of me, too, but my stomach was too full of butterflies to eat any. Soon, nearly every table was full, except for the one I was sitting at, which had the clearest view of the front door.

  Then, at last, I saw him. He came in wearing the same sweater he’d had on the night we first met, and his expression, one of hopeful nervousness, made me smile. Just as I was wondering how long it would take him to notice, his eyes flitted to the art on the walls, and his mouth fell open. I took a deep breath, taking that as my cue, and walked toward him with a racing heart.

  “Do you like it?” I asked softly.

  He started at the sound of my voice, then smiled. “Hey, Lise,” he said. “So you decided to do the review today after all?”

  “Um … maybe,” I said cryptically. “But that’s not the real reason I’m here.”

  “Oh,” he said distractedly. “Did you come with Viv? Where is she?” He waved at his paintings, blushing. “I … I can’t believe she did this. It’s amazing.”

  My pulse roared in my ears. Tell him, tell him, tell him. “Viv didn’t do it,” I blurted. “I did.”

  “You?” he repeated, shaking his head in confusion. “But I got an email from her this afternoon, saying she was sorry she hadn’t been telling the truth. She said to meet her here, and she’d explain everything.”

  “Was it from the Frog Princess?” I asked weakly, even though I knew the answer. When he nodded, I gathered up every ounce of my courage and confessed. “That’s me. I’m the Frog Princess.”

  “What?” he breathed, staring.

  I nodded. “I was the girl you met here on Valentine’s Day.” My face was on fire, and I couldn’t breathe. But I had to keep going. I had to tell the whole truth. “I didn’t know who you were, or how to find you. By the time I finally figured out who you were …” I swallowed. This was the tough part. “I was too chicken to tell you who I was. And you were so different in the pressroom, bossing everyone around, that I wasn’t sure—”

  “That you liked me,” he finished for me as a shadow crossed his face. “So you and Viv switched places.” He frowned.

  “It was wrong. And I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  “I can’t believe this.” The disappointment in his eyes made my stomach churn. “You and Viv …” He shook his head. “Was it like a game to you?”

  “No!” I cried. “It wasn’t like that at all. I only asked her to pretend to be me so that I could get to know you, and then things spiraled out of control. It was so stupid of me. All because I was too stubborn to admit how much …” My voice shook. “How much I really like you, and have from the very beginning.” Oh my god. Had I actually admitted that to him out loud?

  Raj stared at the ground for what seemed like an eternity, and I waited for his expression to lighten, but it didn’t. Finally, he lifted his eyes to mine. “A part of me knew something was wrong,” he said quietly. “Something with Viv felt off from the beginning. But I kept remembering how Valentine’s Day was, and hoping the connection would come back. And you started working on the paper, and I got to know you, and then …” My heart lifted with hope as he paused. But he only sighed heavily. “How can I trust you after everything that’s happened? I don’t know who you really are.”

  Pain stabbed my heart, and I felt the hopes I’d had crumbling. “Yes, you do,” I protested. “I’m the same girl you met here on Valentine’s Day. Every time I talked to you as the princess, or in the pressroom. That was me. All of it. You have to believe that.”

  His eyes were doubtful and sad. “What if … I can’t?” He turned toward the door.

  “Wait!” I blurted, then hurried back to my table for my bag. “I have something for you.” I pulled out his sketchbook, and then the watercolor he’d done of Boston Harbor that he’d given me on Valentine’s Day. “I love this so much, but … I don’t deserve it. Not after what I did. I should’ve given it back to you forever ago, but I guess I had a hard time letting it go.”

  Raj took his sketchbook, but shook his head at the watercolor. “I want you to keep it.”

  I nodded, not able to speak through my terrible dread that this was his version of good-bye.

  He glanced toward the door. “I—I think I know what I need to do now, but I really have to go—”

  “Raj, wait! I wanted to say …” I sighed, then whispered, “I hope we can still be friends.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that’s possible, Lise.” Then he was gone.

  I stared at the closing door with filling eyes, feeling as if my fate had been sealed. Madame Leroux came over, her face deepening with worry.

  “Mon dieu … where did he go?” she said. “He can’t walk away from what was meant to be!”

  A single tear slid down my cheek. “He just did.” And then, grabbing my bag and leaving my plate of untouched macarons on the table, so did I.

  It was hours before I could stop crying. Destry brought me some chocolate, but she was helpless to stop the flood. Finally, she tucked a box of tissues beside me in bed, and I fell asleep clutching a wad of them, my pillow damp, my heart aching.

  I was dreaming of a smiling Madame Leroux when a sound like rain woke me. I lifted my head from the pillow, listening in the dark. There it was again. Tiny, scattered tappings on the windowpane. But it wasn’t rain. It was … pebbles?

  “Destry,” I whispered into the moonlit room. “Do you hear that?”

  “Mmmmph” came the answer, followed by a groan. “This better be good,” she whined, just as another ping! sounded on the glass. She yanked up her eye mask and lifted the blind, peering outside. “Great,” she mumbled. “Some crazy stalker with a plateful of tiny pink burgers.”

  Tiny pink burgers …

  “What?” I shrieked, leaping out of my bed and pouncing on hers, making her holler in protest. Outside on the lawn was Raj, peering up at the window, a plateful of macarons in his hands.

  “Omigod,” I hissed. “It’s him!”

  “No kidding,” Destry deadpanned, yawning. “He had to show up at midnight, didn’t he? He couldn’t wait for morning like a normal human being.” But even as she said it, she was grinning.

  “What do I do?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding?” She gave me a playful shove. “Get out of your self-pity slump and get down there!”

  I laughed and gave her a hug. “You know, I think I might learn to like sharing a room with you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waved me away. “Now … go!”

  Trying to tiptoe and run at the same time, I managed to make it downstairs and outside in record time, slipping into my boots and coat on the way. The lawn was tinged blue with moonlight. Seeing Raj smile made my heart soar.

&
nbsp; “Hey there, Princess,” he said softly. “Would you like a macaron? The two halves connect two people, or so I’ve been told.”

  “I—I—what are you doing here?” I stuttered. “I thought you hated me. When you left Swoonful, you said we’d never be friends.”

  “Because we can’t be, when we’re already more.”

  Oh. My heart swelled. Oh!

  “But … then why did you leave?” I pressed, still trying to make sense of everything.

  “I left to go find my dad.” His smile widened. “I convinced him to come back to the patisserie with me, so that I could show him my art. He actually, unbelievably, liked it! And he agreed to let me take art classes in high school next year, as long as I keep up my grades.”

  “That’s great, Raj,” I said, smiling. “I’m really happy for you.”

  He stepped closer, peering at me intently with those blooming desert eyes. “It’s because of you,” he whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. His hand moved from my face to my waist, and stayed there. “You know, these last few weeks, I wasn’t being honest, either. There’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

  “What?” I said, electrified by the warmth of his hand.

  “Part of me believed you were her all along. I almost asked you a couple times, but never went through with it.” He leaned closer. “I wanted you to be the princess. Even from the start.”

  I felt dizzy with surprise and joy. “You did?”

  He nodded and took my face between his hands. “You’re perfect for me, Lise. I think we were both too stubborn to realize it. But that’s why I did that drawing of you at Author’s Ridge that day. You inspire me. You looked so beautiful, sitting there daydreaming.” He paused, bringing his face closer to mine. “You are so beautiful.”

  I grinned at him as my heart raced. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Raj smiled. “So … tell me one more time. How does the frog turn back into a princess?”