“We are official,” I said, smiling about how juvenile it sounded, and also at the idea of raising a family with her. “If anything, it’s late, not early.”
I thought I felt her smile against my neck, too. For all I’d dreaded telling Lake the truth about my family, a weight lifted. We’d turned a hard conversation about something ugly into a glimpse of a happy future. Being with Lake had taught me there was such a thing as second chances. I wasn’t my past or my father’s mistakes. I was just a man becoming the best version of himself for the girl he loved—for his Birdy.
*
I held Lake until she eventually calmed and I could no longer ignore the voices coming from the next room. “What’s going on in there?” I asked.
“Val invited some people over,” Lake said. “Every time she and Julian break up, she has a party claiming to celebrate. Really, she wants an excuse to get drunk or high.”
With a heavy sigh, I dropped my forehead on Lake’s chest. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“We won’t be able to hide in here. They’re my friends, too. They’ll find us.”
“Lake.” I implored her. “I want time alone with you. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
There was a crash in the next room followed by laughter. Lake shrugged it off. “One of the kitchen chairs has a loose leg. People fall in it all the time.”
With a knock on the door came Val’s high-pitched voice. “Roger’s early,” she said. “Come say hi or we’re breaking in.”
“Roger?” I asked, covering us with the top sheet. “Does your door lock?”
“No.” She craned her neck out from under me to call, “Don’t come in here. Give us five minutes.”
“You have four!” a man yelled from the other side of the door.
Lake tried to get out from under me.
“I’m not done with you,” I said. She laughed, but I hadn’t meant it to be funny. I was dead serious.
“They’ll come in here, Manning. Believe me.”
I let her push me off. “Who’s Roger?”
She picked a shirt off the ground. “A friend from class.”
“What kind of friend?”
“A gay one.”
“Ah.” Relieved, I watched her dress. “You forgot your bra.”
“It’s fine.”
I sat up, grabbing my own clothes and searching the bed for her undergarments. When I didn’t find them, I lifted the frame a little. There was no bra, but I did pull out something familiar, something I hadn’t seen in probably six years. “Who do we have here?” I asked.
When she turned and saw the stuffed bird in my hand, she lunged at me. “Oh my God.”
I held it over my head, out of her grasp. “It’s Birdy,” I exclaimed.
“I tried to hide her,” Lake said, her cheeks pink.
Unable to contain my grin, I looked up at the blue and white toy I’d won for Lake at the Balboa Fun Zone since I couldn’t take her on the Ferris wheel. “Why would you hide her?”
“It’s embarrassing.” She bit her bottom lip, obviously anxious about the bird. “Did you know Birdy was a blue-footed booby, not a pelican?”
“’Course I did,” I said, setting it on her head to resume looking for her bra. “I don’t want to go out there and make nice, Lake. I want to be alone with you, talk to you, make love to you, and then sleep with you. Birdy can stay, but they’ve got to go.”
“We should at least say hi. Then we can, I don’t know, go for a walk.”
“Are you going to tell them who I am?”
She pretended not to hear me, busying herself by fixing her hair in the mirror above her dresser.
“Lake.”
She turned to me, still hugging the stuffed animal under one arm. “What am I supposed to say?” The hurt was evident in her voice. “Should I lie like you did to that woman at the ice skating rink? Is that what you’re asking me to do?”
“No.”
“These are my friends,” she said. “I can’t hide you from them forever.”
“I’m not asking you to. Tell them the truth.”
“But some of them know Corbin, and also … he’s been calling.”
“Calling where?” I sat on the edge of her bed. “For what?”
“Nothing. Everything. He’s my friend, Manning. We talk all the time. He left messages on the machine, and I’ve been ignoring him.”
I took a deep breath, dropping my eyes to the floor. Val could be annoying, but because she didn’t take shit, she was good for Lake. What about Corbin? I hated the idea that once I left, he’d still be here, but I had to face the facts—in four years, she hadn’t given in to him. For six years, he’d been trying, and evidence would show he’d been respectful about it. And with that realization, I kinda felt bad for the fucker. “Have you considered that ending the friendship would be doing him a favor?”
“Him?” she asked. “Or you?”
“Him. I know what it’s like to love you from afar. It isn’t easy.”
Looking lost in thought, she caressed Birdy’s head, then put the toy on her dresser next to something else I recognized—the wooden box I’d made her for the earrings she’d worn as Maid of Honor.
“Do you regret it?” Lake asked.
I tore my eyes from the jewelry holder. “Regret what?”
“Loving me.”
“Obviously not, Lake.”
“Then maybe he doesn’t, either.”
“He does, he will, because he won’t win you. He’ll never have you, and that’s why it isn’t fair to him.” I waited until her eyes returned to mine, and the sadness in them made my gut smart. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know he’s your friend, and if you want things to stay that way, I can’t stop you. But a part of me can’t help but feel bad for him.”
She shook her head. “It’s not like that. Corbin knows nothing will ever happen between us, and it’s still not enough for him to end our friendship. Trust me.”
I didn’t believe that for a second, but I said, “Okay. And for the record, I didn’t lie to that woman to keep our secret. She doesn’t know us. I don’t want anyone to. You and me, we’re you and me. Nobody’s earned the right to know our story.”
“Our story.” She let out a breath then came over and straddled my lap. “I thought you were ashamed of us, and that was why you lied.”
“It’s going to take me some time to get used to touching you without looking over my shoulder,” I admitted. “But rest assured, the decisions I make are with you at the front of my mind.” I picked her up, carrying her over to her closet. “Where’s your overnight bag?” I asked. “We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?” With her legs wrapped around me, she shifted on my crotch to reach behind me. “It’s on the top shelf.”
I took it down, and a moment later, she feathered her fingers over the back of my bare shoulder. “Summer Triangle,” she whispered.
I stood still, letting her trace the three stars, even though the tattoo had brought as much angst outside prison as it had comfort inside. Tiffany didn’t understand it, so she didn’t like it. “It’s for you,” I told Lake. “I carry you on my back wherever I go.”
“You said the same thing about Madison when we were in the truck.”
“She’s the third point. My girls.”
Lake shuddered in my arms, hugging my neck. “I’m sorry, Manning. I didn’t know your sister, but I’m so sorry for her.”
“I know.” I could’ve stood still with her all night, but the noises from the next room were getting louder, as if more people were showing up. “I need you to get down or else your friends are gonna walk in here and catch us in the act.”
“Oh, okay.” I set her down by her waist. “Where are we going?” she repeated.
I didn’t answer, just started dressing. She’d figure it out soon enough.
Roger was apparently someone Lake had met in class, and they ran lines together all the time. He made a big thing about me coming out of Lake’s room, both of us looking a
nd probably smelling like we’d just fucked. I lasted with Lake’s friends about four seconds until excusing myself to the fire escape for a cigarette. I wanted to meet them, but not while I was this agitated over the little bit of time we had left.
Val followed me outside, climbing out the window. “Can I bum one?”
Years earlier, I’d told her no, but I didn’t want to be the adult here anymore. We were all equals now. I gave her one.
She lit it quickly, took two furious drags, and finally let it rip. “You have some nerve. You’re a fucking asshole. I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
Val had obviously been holding in her feelings about me. Over her shoulder, Lake was watching us. I wasn’t sure if she could see me, but I leaned over and closed the window most of the way so she wouldn’t hear. “This might surprise you,” I told Val, “but I appreciate what you’re doing. I’m glad Lake has had someone here looking out for her.”
“She’s had two someones. Me and Corbin. We picked her up off the ground after you trampled her, and it’s been four years of getting her to be human again. Now you come in here and fuck it all up with that smug expression on your face. You got her fired from her job?”
“Not on purpose. She—”
“Fuck you.”
I scrubbed my jaw, hoping I didn’t look smug at that moment. “I’m not leaving this time.”
“Lake probably believes you, too. Well, guess who’s going to be cleaning up your mess when you don’t come back?”
I smoked down my cigarette, watching her. I was not used to taking this kind of shit. Not at all. If this wasn’t Lake’s best friend, if it wasn’t Val’s way of protecting Lake, I’d have walked away already. Instead I said, “I’m coming back, and you and I will have to be in each other’s lives.”
“I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation with you. Poor Tiffany. I don’t even like her, but poor fucking Tiffany. You screwed Lake over, now you’re going to do the same to her sister.”
“Who’s better for Lake than me?” I asked, my voice louder than I meant it. “Who’s going to take better care of her? Love her more than I do?” I flicked ash over the railing, my face hot. “You don’t know the half of it. Lake’s all that means anything to me. I can tell you without a doubt in my mind that nobody will love, protect, or care for her like I can. I’m the man for her. The only man.”
The night went quiet as we stared at each other. I’d never said anything like that in my life, and it hit me for the first time that it was true. Always in the back of my mind was the fact that I didn’t deserve Lake. But nobody was worthy of her virginity, of her love, so why the fuck not me? I would appreciate it more than anyone else.
“When are you leaving?” she asked.
“I have to go, but I’ll be back.”
“When?”
Now, she was the one who wore the smug expression. She had me, or she thought she did, but she didn’t know that nothing could keep me away very long. “I fly back tomorrow.”
“When will you be back in New York?”
“I’m not sure yet. I—”
“Yeah, thought so. My money’s on never.” Val stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette, gave me the finger, and stumbled back into the living room.
Lake came over quickly, peering out at me, lit from behind like an angel. “What was that?” she asked.
“Nothing, Birdy.”
“What happened? Val looks upset.”
I squatted down to Lake’s level and took her chin between my thumb and knuckle. “All you need to know is that I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “Except to my hotel. Get your bag. We’re leaving.”
15
Lake
The mid-December night was alive with holiday cheer. Manning had wanted to take a cab to the hotel, but I’d insisted we walk. I loved to see the bell-ringing Santa Clauses, steam billowing from manholes—and hot chocolate cups—and the lit Christmas trees and menorahs in people’s windows. Or maybe I just needed time to come to terms with where we were going. Having Manning in my apartment had felt like a dream, but going to a hotel with him evoked the same uneasiness I’d gotten when he’d offered to help me with my rent, as if I was his mistress.
Manning kept his eyes forward. With our elbows linked, the tension in his body was evident. New York wasn’t like Orange County. We passed loud-mouthed street performers, tripped on uneven pavement, and avoided brushing against beady-eyed men. There was something to see everywhere we looked, and though I found it exciting, I wasn’t sure Manning did. To him, more things could go wrong here.
Whatever Val had said to him, he’d been brooding ever since. He’d fussed with my scarf and coat outside the apartment before insisting he walk closest to the curb. Admittedly, it hadn’t been the best time for Val and Roger to burst in. I thought back to Manning’s confession about his dad and squeezed closer to him.
“Cold?” he asked.
“A little.”
“We’re almost there.”
Had I known Manning was trying to reconcile his own desires for me against his father’s for Maddy, would I have done anything differently? I couldn’t be sure, because I didn’t see things the way he did. What Manning’s father had done to a nine-year-old girl had nothing to do with love or attraction. Manning and I had never so much as kissed. Just because he’d felt something for me when I was under eighteen didn’t mean he was a sexual predator or some kind of innate monster. I saw it clear as day, but Manning had always struggled to see himself as I did.
When I glanced up, I caught Manning half-turned, doing a double take at a church with massive wooden doors decorated with wreathes and bows. “What is it?” I asked. He looked forward again, silent. He’d never struck me as the religious type, so I couldn’t fathom what had crossed his mind. “What are you thinking about?”
He took a few moments to respond. “Marriage.”
With one night left, that was the last thing I wanted to talk about. His marriage had nothing to do with me. Everybody involved had known going in what Manning and I had, but they’d chosen to pursue the relationship anyway. Manning had made his own decisions, and so had Tiffany.
We were quiet so long, we passed another church. This one had tiny white lights strung along its staircase railings and an enormous stained glass Jesus that looked upon us.
Manning’s cell rang, and he took it out of his pocket before silencing it. He hadn’t looked at me in blocks. “Who was that?” I asked.
We turned a corner and sidestepped a man shoveling the sidewalk outside a bodega.
Manning stopped. “I need a cigarette before we get to the hotel,” he said. “And then I think we should talk about the logistics of what comes next. I know it’s unpleasant, but it is what it is.”
The clerk placed his shovel against a wall and followed Manning inside. I turned my back on them, on the harsh light streaming from the store onto the sidewalk. I didn’t see what there was to talk about. I’d thought the plan was for him to come back as soon as possible. I didn’t need to hear the horrible details of how it would happen. We were about to do an awful thing, and if we could stop ourselves, we would, so what was the point in beating the topic to death?
A woman passed me, the toddler attached to her hand pulling the opposite direction, trying to get to the fresh pile of snow the shop clerk had created. The boy managed to wiggle free and jump into the heap with both boots. She picked him up, playfully rolling her eyes at me as she hauled him off. I smiled at them. I hadn’t seen snow fall until I’d moved to New York, but in the four and a half years I’d been here, I’d never just played in the snow like that. I’d been forced to grow up fast, to fend for myself. Since Manning had arrived, I’d finally started to feel light again. I wasn’t ready to let go of that. Of him.
I felt Manning’s eyes on me, a sixth sense I’d developed from being unable to communicate with him any other way when I was younger. I looked back at him leaning between the shovel and a display of poinsettias and mi
niature Christmas trees. He stuffed a pack of Marlboros in his pocket, watching me as he cupped a hand around his mouth and lit a cigarette. “If this was easy,” he said, “we would’ve done it long ago.”
“If what was easy?”
“You and me.”
“Can’t we talk about it tomorrow before you leave?” I asked, sighing. I wanted to go back to that day at the ice skating rink when we’d done nothing but wander, kiss and touch, eat and make love. “Watch this.” I turned to face him completely. With a sly smile, I walked backward a few steps and planed my arms. “Ready?”
“What for?”
I leaned back on my heels until my balance wavered, then fell into the snow with a crunch. Winging my arms and legs like jumping jacks, I grinned. “Look,” I said. “I’m making a snow angel.”
“I see.”
I froze right through my cheap coat, the ends of my hair wetted, but I got up on my elbows and smiled at him. “Come make one with me.”
“I like watching you do it,” he said, pinching the butt of the cigarette, amusement in his eyes.
“If you won’t make one, I’ll have to think of another way to get you over here.” I balled up some snow, packing it tightly while he raised his eyebrows at me—a warning I intended to ignore. When he didn’t make a move, I threw the snowball at him, narrowly missing his shoulder.
He didn’t even flinch. “Have to work on your aim,” he said, winking.
“Fine. You win.” I stood, bending at the waist, brushing snow off my pants. I pretended to fix my socks while stealthily forming more ammunition. Peeking to make sure he wasn’t looking, I straightened up, much better poised to hit him. I launched the snowball and it smacked against his chest so hard, his cigarette fell from his mouth onto the sidewalk.
I stifled a laugh at the way his nostrils flared. We stared at each other a few tense seconds before we both broke into a run. Halfway down the block, he caught me by the waist and lifted me into the air. Even as I gave in to a fit of laughter, I struggled against him, making it as hard as I could for him to carry me.
Right before the entrance to the W, he tossed me into another pile of snow and fell down beside me. “Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you win,” he said, spreading out on his back like he had that night at the pool in Big Bear. I scooted over to make space for his impressive wingspan. Manning made what had to be the largest snow angel in history, then held his hand palm up for me. I took it, letting him pull me over to him.
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