Winter Hopes (Seasons of Love)

by Jennifer Gracen

  Lydia glanced at her watch. It was only four-thirty. “Wow, yeah, you made good time.”

  “Yes, I did.” Sam grinned and joked lightly, “Well, it's a nice building you've got here, but are you going to invite me in or what?”

  “Oh!” Lydia laughed and flushed with embarrassment. “God, I'm sorry. Come in.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him through the doorway into her apartment. He pulled his suitcase in and closed the door behind him.

  “Here, let me take your coat,” she said, helping him off with his mid-length brown leather jacket. “Wow, this is gorgeous. And heavy!” Her fingers brushed the thick shearling lining. “Mmm, soft.”

  Sam grinned. “You approve?”

  “Yes. You look sexy as hell in this coat.” She gave him a beguiling smile and a quick kiss before going to the closet to put it away.

  Sam stretched his arms over his head and turned to survey the space before him. It was a little small, as she'd told him it was, but welcoming, comfortable, and pleasant. He looked around: hardwood floors, cream colored walls; framed pictures on the walls, both of art and of Andy. A few feet from where he stood was a dark brown tweed couch, adorned with a few dark brown throw pillows; an attractive area rug with varying shades of brown, beige, and tan; a television, an end table with a phone on it; and in the corner, a small wooden desk with a computer on it. Next to the desk was a blue bean bag chair, and a thick purple wool blanket folded neatly on top of it.

  Lydia had returned to his side, watching him in curious silence as he examined her apartment. “So?” she finally asked. “Is it at all like you pictured it?”

  He grinned down at her. “I guess, pretty much. Only it's cozier. Definitely the benefit of a woman's touch.” He reached out to brush her hair away from her face, just wanting to feel the thick copper strands beneath his fingertips. “Give me the tour?”

  “All thirty-eight seconds that it'll take?” she joked. “Sure.” She extended her arm. “Living room, as you can see. The bean bag is Andy's, and it's usually here, in the middle of the floor, on the rug, so he can watch TV.”

  “Open space, no coffee table,” Sam noted. “Not toddler friendly, I guess?”

  “Good guess. But I don't have room for one in here anyway,” she shrugged. “It would take up the whole area, make it feel smaller in here than it already is.” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm to the modest open space just beyond the living room. A small, round, light wood table and four chairs were arranged by the large window. A booster seat was attached to one of the chairs. A sizeable colorful bouquet of flowers was centered on the table, brightening the whole room with its vibrant hues.

  “That's the dining room, if you're generous enough to call it that,” Lydia said dryly. “And those are the stunning flowers you sent me. It was actually hard to fit that in my car to take them home,” she added with a chuckle.

  “They are nice.” Sam went to the bouquet to examine it more closely. “They did well. Lots of purple. Good. I'm satisfied.” He turned around and saw the tiny kitchen area. He pointed. “Kitchen, obviously.”

  “You figured that out all by yourself?” she teased.

  “Yeah, I'm a rocket scientist in my spare time.” He smirked, went back to her, and took her hand. “It's a nice apartment, Lydia. Show me the rest.”

  “Come on.” She led him by the hand down a short hallway. “Bathroom,” she said, pointing to the door on the left. She leaned over and pushed open the door on the right. “This is Andy's room.”

  Sam followed her inside. The room was tiny, but Lydia had made it cheerful. The walls were a soft shade of robin's egg blue, the thick carpet a dark royal blue. A tiny wooden toddler bed was up against the wall in the far corner, covered with a blue and red Elmo bedspread. A few stuffed animals were on the bed, and a big blue plastic bin under the window was filled with toys, almost overflowing. A small wooden bookshelf in the other corner was fully stacked.

  “It's very cute,” Sam smiled. “You made it a great room for him.”

  Lydia smiled demurely, but was obviously touched. “Thanks. I tried.”

  “You succeeded.” Sam pulled her out of the room and headed towards the room at the back of the hall. “Your room?”

  “Yup.”

  They went in together. The room was in shadows; being the middle of December, it was already almost dark outside. She turned on a lamp on her bedside table. The smaller light, as opposed to the brighter overhead light, gave the room a warm, intimate glow.

  “This is definitely a woman's room,” he grinned, looking around.

  “Well, of course it is. I didn't have to share it with anyone, so I could make it as feminine as I wanted to,” Lydia said plainly. “My colors, my tastes. Mine all mine.”

  Sam took it all in: the lavender walls, the plush dark beige carpet, the lavender and dark violet comforter and throw pillows on the queen sized bed, the gauzy beige curtain that was delicately draped over the window. Next to the bed, on the right, was a small cherry wood end table, accommodating a phone and the small lamp. The lamp looked to be made of stained glass, a pleasant and pretty combination of many shades of purple. The light from within seemed to make the mosaic of glass pieces shimmer and glow. “Tiffany?” he asked, pointing to it.

  “A fake one, yes,” she grinned. “But I love it.”

  “I like it too. It's a nice accent to the room.” A small cherry wood dresser was opposite the bed, with several framed photographs resting on top of it. He went to examine the pictures more closely. There were several: one of her holding Andy when he was an infant; one of her and Jane, sitting on a grassy hill and laughing; one of her and another dark haired woman he didn't recognize, smiling together at an elegantly set table; one of her with Andy when he was a toddler, where he looked to be about two years old; another of her with Andy, apparently taken fairly recently; and the shot of the whole family, standing on Jane's porch on Halloween, that Sam had seen in an email.

  “This is your sister, right?” he asked, pointing to Jane.

  “Yes.”

  “Same exact eyes as you, it's amazing. Who's this woman, then?” He pointed to the other picture.

  “Tracey.”

  “Ah, the famous best friend. Gotcha.” He studied the photo again, then pointed to the one of Andy as a toddler. “Cute! How old was he here?”

  “Twenty-one months,” Lydia answered.

  “He was an adorable baby,” Sam remarked.

  “Yes, he certainly was. Thank you for saying so.”

  He went back to her side and smiled down at her. He stepped close and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her gently against him. “Hey. I'm in your apartment. In your bedroom. I like this.” He kissed her with tenderness and a little bit of heat.

  “You know… you'll be the first man I have in this bed,” Lydia revealed, a bit shyly.

  That nugget of information pleased him. A smile broke across his features. “Then I definitely intend to help you christen it properly,” he said, his voice low and seductive. Without warning, he lifted her into his arms.

  “What are you doing?!” she sputtered.

  “Beginning the christening.” He grinned. He tossed her gently onto the bed and they both laughed, then he stretched out beside her. He swept her hair back from her face as he looked down into her eyes, ran the backs of his fingers delicately along her cheek. “I'm really glad you let me come here… into your home. I know what that means to you… for us… and I'm not taking it lightly. I just wanted you to know I get that.”

  Her gaze locked with his, and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. She reached up and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him with soft, heated intensity. He embraced her tightly, wanting her, craving more.

  “I missed you,” she whispered.

  “Show me how much,” he told her in a husky voice.

  She reached over to the end table to turn off the small lamp, but stopped. She looked into his eyes with a hint of a dare in her knowing grin, and brought
her hand back to his face. “I guess we could leave it on,” she whispered. “I mean, if you want to…”

  Wow. Thatta girl. “Oh, honey,” he whispered back, kissing her. “I want to. I want to look at every gorgeous inch of you, all night long.”

  Her eyes softened. Then she wrapped her legs around his and moved sensually beneath him, bringing his body to rest on top of and align with hers. In response, he all but lunged at her.

  Beyond the small pool of lamplight, pale stripes of light streamed through the window. Soft bluish beams that filtered in from the lamp post outside marked the time that passed. As the sky darkened, the angles of light changed slowly.

  ***

  Sam and Lydia held each other close in a state of stillness and contentment, their energies spent from their passionate reunion. Sam ran his hand along her smooth back in slow, delicate strokes. Lydia curled against him, molded herself to him, and traced gentle patterns along his chest. The dark hair there was soft beneath her fingertips.

  “Still awake?” he whispered after a few minutes.

  “Barely,” she murmured. Her usually rich voice was even deeper from fatigue.

  “So go to sleep for a while,” he said softly. He reached with his free hand to cradle her and play with the long locks of her thick, shiny hair. “The night is ours, there's no set schedule. We can go to dinner whenever. Sleep if you want.”

  “Mmmm… maybe.” She kissed his neck. “I'm not used to having such a non-structured evening ahead of me, being free to do whatever I want. It feels weird.”

  “Good weird?”

  “Oh, yeah. But it's definitely strange… an odd feeling, like I'm off, like I forgot to do something, you know what I mean?”

  Sam shifted suddenly. “Hey, I forgot to do something, now that you said that.” He kissed her forehead, then gently disentangled himself from her and got out of bed.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Be right back,” he assured her. Unabashed by his nakedness, he walked out of her room.

  “Aaagh!” he exclaimed in the hallway. “Too bright out here! It buuuurns!”

  She giggled at his outburst and heard him rummaging around. She barely had time to stretch all of her limbs by the time he returned. He got right back into bed, but sat up. “Here we go. Happy Birthday, Lydia.”

  “Aww,” she cooed. He was holding a small, wrapped box with a tiny bow on top. She pulled herself up to a sitting position beside him.

  “I can't believe I temporarily forgot your present.” He grinned. “Although I absolutely would've remembered later, at some point, of course.”

  “You didn't have to get me anything,” she chided him gently. “You're here. And you sent me those beautiful flowers. That's more than enough.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” His grin turned into a wide, teasing smile. “Shut up, and open it.”

  Lydia laughed. “Okay.” She took the box and ripped delicately at the paper. In her hands lay a gray, velvety square that opened to reveal a pair of teardrop earrings. Tiny clusters of sparkling diamond chips dotted the top of the hanging pear-shaped stones, each one easily about a carat.

  “Are these tanzanite?” she asked, staring up at him in disbelief.

  “Of course,” he smiled. “Your favorite stone.”

  “Sam,” she breathed. "You—this is too much.”

  “No, it's not.”

  Touched by his thoughtfulness, she could only shake her head at him in astonishment.

  “What, you don't like them?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up in mock alarm.

  “What? My God, Sam, they're beautiful,” she stammered. “Absolutely exquisite.”

  “Just like you,” he murmured quietly. The corner of his mouth curved up in his signature half smile. His eyes rested on her face with patience and affection.

  She shook her head at him again, but smiled in surrender and leaned in to kiss him firmly. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips, kissing him again. “You were too generous. And very thoughtful. And I love them.”

  “Good. You can wear them to dinner.” He kissed her once more. “Are you more hungry than tired, I hope? Because I just realized I'm starving.”

  “I just got a second wind,” she smiled. “Let's go to dinner.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  IN THE HEART of town, there were many restaurants and bars, all kinds of cuisine and varying levels of volume. Most of them were only a ten minute walk from her apartment building. Despite the cold, they held hands as they walked to the Japanese restaurant Lydia had chosen. It had a few private booths in the back, shuttered away from the rest of the customers by decorated folding wooden screens. Lydia had reserved one for them. The table was low, almost to the floor, and they left their shoes at the entrance to sit comfortably on pillows.

  Sam rubbed his eyes as he glanced over the menu for the third time. The words were fuzzy, almost swimming; his headache was returning. The one that kicked in by the end of the day, every day. Annoyance rushed through him. He refused to give in to it, refused to let it ruin the pleasant evening he'd been enjoying so much. Focusing on Lydia's beautiful face across the table, he ignored the dull throb behind his eyes and looked up gratefully when a waitress came to take their drink orders.

  “Are you sure you don't want any?” Sam asked a few minutes later, offering her a taste of his heated sake.

  Lydia wrinkled her nose in disdain. “No, thank you. I never liked it. Hey, more for you.”

  “Alright.” He grinned and raised his small porcelain cup to her. “To your birthday. Many happy returns. Here's to a fantastic year ahead.”

  “Well, it's certainly starting off beautifully.” She smiled. “Thanks to you.” She clinked her glass to his cup and took a long sip of her pomegranate martini.

  “We need to thank your sister,” Sam said after he'd swallowed his sip of sake. “Promise me you'll do that for me.

  “Well…” Lydia slowly traced the rim of her glass with a fingertip. “About that. What if I told you I've changed the plans slightly for tomorrow, and you'll have the chance to thank her yourself?”

  Sam stared at her. The slightest hint of a smile curved one side of his mouth. “Go on.”

  She pressed her lips together briefly before saying, “I asked Jane if you and I could go over there for breakfast in the morning. Like, instead of just picking up Andy and taking off, we stay to have breakfast. With all of them. Hang out a little. You up for that?”

  Sam's dark eyes seemed to light up with elation. The grin broadened, unrestrained, into a radiant smile. “I am absolutely up for that.”

  Lydia nodded, smiling back. “Okay then.” She took another sip of her drink. “We have to be there at nine-thirty. Too early?”

  “Nope. I'm always up early to go running, you know that,” Sam said. “I've gotten up earlier than you every time we've been together—you sleep in until I wake you.”

  “Because I can,” she stressed with a smirk. “Because those are the only times I don't have a small child climbing on me at the crack of dawn to wake me up.”

  “Gotcha.” Sam winked, smiled, and took a long swallow of his sake. His gaze deepened, fixed intently on her face. “So… okay. You're not only introducing me to your family, you're letting me meet Andy tomorrow. And spend a little time with him.”

  Lydia nodded, gazing back at him with significance. She knew he got it.

  “Wow,” Sam said, his voice deep with appreciation. “Thank you.”

  She smiled lightly, but her brows furrowed. “What are you thanking me for?”

  “Trusting me,” he said. “Trusting me enough to let me meet your son, your family. For trusting in us. I know what that means… and it's not lost on me. I'm flattered, and I'm thrilled.”

  She reached across the table and took his hand. He squeezed it gently, raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it.

  “So then, what's the whole plan for tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Breakfast at Jane's,” Lydia b
egan. “We'll hang out there for a while, but then we have to take Andy over to Matt's apartment; he has to be there at three. After that, we'll head back to my place, get ready, and go into the city for this surprise dinner you keep teasing me about.”

  Sam grinned, but looked distracted.

  “What?” she asked.

  “We're taking Andy to Matt's?” he asked. He seemed confused. “Have you told Matt about us? I thought you hadn't yet.”

  “You're right, I haven't,” she said.

  “You’re letting me meet your family, your son, but you’re not telling your ex about me yet.” Sam’s dark eyes held hers. “Can you tell me why? Just… curious.”

  She sipped her drink, wondering how to phrase it. “Um… I don’t think it’s any of his business. He doesn’t need to know. It has no impact on him. So until it does, I just… I don’t know, it seems like I’m rubbing his nose in it to tell him about you. I don’t need to do that.”

  Sam nodded as he seemed to turn that over in his head. “Okay. Hey, it’s your decision. It’s not my business either, really. Whatever you want.”

  “Thanks.” She brushed her hair back from her face, fidgeting. “So, I'm not going to leave you at Jane's while I take Andy over to Matt's; to get there and back will take an hour. So you can come for the ride, and while I take Andy upstairs, you can wait in the car. I'll only be five minutes. Then the rest of the day is ours.”

  “Sounds good. Fine by me.”

  The waitress, a petite Asian woman, opened the folded screens to bring them two bowls of steaming miso soup. After she left, Sam said to Lydia, “So tell me a little bit about Jane.”

  “Jane?” Lydia asked as she reached for her deep white spoon.

  “Yeah. I mean, I know she's older than you, and married to Tyler, who's a surgeon. And that she's a stay at home mom to her three kids, and that she helps you with watching Andy a lot, that's she's been an amazing help to you.” Sam shrugged. “Those are all great things to know, but tell me about her. She means so much to you. I want to know, what’s she like?”

  “Alright.” Lydia smiled. She watched Sam take careful sips of his soup while she tried to think of things to say. She swallowed a mouthful of her own soup before she started. “Well, she's thinner than me, the nasty bitch.”