by Lori L. Otto
“Never,” he vows, looking only at me.
“I know,” I whisper.
He walks back over and hugs me again, kissing the top of my head, as someone knocks at the door. Finn answers, and Jon sneaks in a kiss while his back is turned. He catches my hand in his when he pulls away, linking his pinky with mine.
Within a span of five minutes, all of my guests have arrived except for Emmanuel. I didn’t think he’d be here until later since he has friends in Manhattan he was planning to see. I’ve introduced my roommates to everyone, and tried to briefly explain what’s going on with me and Jon after seeing the curious looks on all their faces.
“We’re back together,” I had said simply. My cousins looked at me harshly. Katrina and Rachelle just looked confused. I knew I’d need to offer a better explanation to all of them, but decided I’d do it individually another day. I really hadn’t taken a single moment to prepare myself for any questions. I thought I’d be able to make it through everything with Jon at my side. I’m doing okay, I guess.
As Clara and Finn take my roommates across the hall for drinks, I take Jon by the hand and grab the key that Francisco had given me earlier. “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” I tell Lexi and Kyle as they pick at the food in the kitchen. I wave goodbye to the others that are chatting on the couch. “Just a sec,” I mouth to Jackie, the only one watching us.
“Where are we going?” Jon asks.
“I’m actually not sure. On the roof, I think.”
“Are you okay?” He helps me with the heavy metal door that’s hard to push against the wind. When the door opens, a gust of wind catches my shirt and I feel open air on my torso. Jon pulls the shirt down quickly. “There’s my eye-full,” he teases.
“Sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize for me. Just don’t come up here with anyone else tonight.” I look up at him and smile, shaking my head. “Look,” he says in awe, still holding the hem of my shirt down as he walks toward a colorful waterfall. I replace his hand with my own and follow him.
Water streams down glass illuminated with blue and purple and white lights. The colors seem to dance as the water cascades into a shallow basin, and from there, another small waterfall flows into an even lower repository. There’s a penny lying in the bottom of it, as if someone’s already taken advantage of the first wish.
“Here,” Jon says, handing me a copper coin. “Looks like you could use one of those.”
I sit down on the edge and touch the tips of my fingers into the cold water. “I wish for clarity. I need help figuring out this Isaiah situation.” I push the coin into the water, watching it sink to the bottom.
“What did you find out?” Jon asks.
“He’s a sculptor in Hartford. Never married or had kids. None that he knows of anyway.”
“He’s still alive?”
“I can’t be certain. The article I read was about five years old. So Granna must have had more current information.”
“Do you want to find out?”
“I think so. Jon, he didn’t want kids when he was younger, but he said he now regrets not having them. And I think he was much older than my mother. Like fifteen years older.”
He nods. “Love knows no age.”
“I don’t know that they were even in love. But man, the theories I’ve got going on in my head. I mean... I can understand her not telling him if he never wanted kids. It makes sense... I guess.”
“Maybe,” he responds simply. “What can I do to help you get your mind off it tonight? It’s your birthday, and you should be enjoying it with your friends.”
“I know,” I say, standing up and looking around the rooftop more. Along the other three sides, soft lights are installed on the perimeter about a yard apart from each other. They point skyward, lighting the leaves of small trees planted in four-foot-tall wooden boxes. On the edge of the rooftop are flowers. They line every inch of the wall. Three separate seating areas could accommodate our entire party–plus some–but I don’t want anyone else up here right now.
“Liv,” he starts, his voice sounding far away as I continue walking around. “We should have had that conversation with Finn months ago. I feel so stupid and so responsible for all this time we’ve been apart.”
I frown, glancing over the side to the street below. “I know, Jon. We’ve both had regrets. We’re getting everything out in the open. We can leave some of the regrets behind, you know?”
“I feel like I have so many more apologies to make.”
“Didn’t you mention something about a party?” I say, trying to change the subject once more. “So many heavy topics.” I sigh, turning back around.
Putting my hands on his cheeks, I pull him to me and kiss him. He seems to relax, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me slowly. I move my hands to the back of his neck, tugging gently at the short hair that rests there. “I’ve missed you so much,” he says softly, nuzzling his face next to mine and placing his lips on my ear.
“So it’s true!” My mother’s voice startles me, just as the slam of the heavy door makes her jump.
“Mom!” Jon and I separate, old memories of getting caught in a tender moment rushing back. I’m eighteen today, though. She should be accepting of this. It’s still weird to me, though.
“It’s a little windy up here,” she says. “Good evening, Jon.”
“Hi, Emi.” He walks quickly to her, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“It’s good to see you again,” I hear her say as I move closer. She hugs me next. “What’s going on?” she whispers in my ear.
I pull away and smile at her, then glance at Jon. “She asked what’s going on.”
“I came to see Liv today... to fix what I messed up.”
“So Matty has told me. He warned me that Livvy received a present that trumped the loft. I had to see for myself.”
“Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s downstairs. I told him I wanted a moment or two with you.” She looks up at Jon. “Alone, if you don’t mind,” she says warmly, patting him on the arm.
“Of course. I’ll go back down... if it’s safe.” I grab his hand, stopping him. He returns to me for one more kiss, then exits through the big door, careful not to let it slam behind him.
“What do you think of the rooftop?” She walks away from me, sitting on a canvas lounge chair that is positioned next to an identical one underneath a canopy tent. She motions for me to sit down next to her.
“It’s beautiful,” I admit to her. “I think I could paint up here on a less windy day. Although the sound of the breeze is very ambient and soothing.”
“It is,” she agrees. “Sweetie? I need to know what’s going on. How can things just be like they were between the two of you? You deserve better.”
“Mom,” I start, then stop, reflecting on the past few hours. Everything that has happened has been so monumental in my life, I don’t think I’ve given any of it the attention it deserves. Granna sends a letter, seemingly from the grave. In it, she tells me who my father is. Meanwhile, the love of my life (who also caused me the most pain in my life) walks back in... at an opportune time, to say the least. As I’d told him, it wouldn’t have been so easy to get through to me had I not been half-broken when he first saw me. Not only does he want me back, but he apologizes in such a way that leaves me no question of the extent of his remorse. “Where to begin...”
“Let’s start with Jon,” she suggests.
“It doesn’t actually start there, though. Mom?”
“Yes?”
“A lot has happened today, and I haven’t really thought anything through, so I want you to do three things for me. Be open minded, listen, and promise you won’t tell Dad.”
“Liv, you know how I feel about keeping secrets from him.”
“I found out who my biological father is today,” I say quickly, my eyes boring into hers so I can monitor them for the slightest change.
“What?” she whispers urgently. “Liv
vy, I didn’t know you were looking for him.” She covers her mouth, looking devastated.
“No, Mom, I wasn’t,” I explain, on the verge of tears. “James Schaeffer came by today... with a letter.”
“From Donna?” I nod. “How...?”
“It was dated early April of last year. It goes back further than that. The day she died, Mom, she had left me a voicemail. She had something to tell me, and she said it was urgent. I guess this was it.” I start crying. “Jon and I were in Mykonos, you know. We were... we ignored her call, and I feel just awful...”
“Oh, Liv.” She takes me in her arms and holds me tightly. “Shhh...” I remember the guilt again as if it just happened. “You couldn’t have known. You couldn’t have changed the outcome.”
“I know,” I tell her, trying to be logical. I force myself to breathe normally, stopping the tears. “Anyway, in the letter... well, I had asked her a long time ago if Nate could have been my dad–”
“Livvy–”
“It was back then, Mom. Listen to me, okay?” I wait until she nods in assent. “She had told me no, but I think she had doubts in her answer... I don’t know why. Maybe because she really felt like I was her actual grandchild or that she saw how similar Nate and I were in how we worked. I’m not sure.”
“It’s a ridiculous notion, though,” Mom says. “Isn’t it?”
I nod. “It’s not him.” She sighs, but I can’t tell if she’s relieved or disappointed. “He’s a sculptor in Hartford. He was alive when Granna wrote the letter... I haven’t found out yet if he still is.”
“You’ve looked him up?”
“Online. I found an article... and a picture. Mom, I have his eyes. I’m sure it’s him.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she says, holding me again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m confused,” I tell her. “I haven’t really wanted to know, you know? You and Dad are everything to me. You know that.”
“I love you,” she tells me. I tell her the same, letting her wipe a lingering tear from my cheek. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to handle this alone.”
“Well, that’s where Jon comes in. Literally.”
“You called him?”
“No. He showed up. I was reading the letter in the hallway... I mean, when I got it, I assumed it was a card, so I opened it right away...” I continue to tell her about Jon’s arrival, his refusal to leave me while I was so upset, and how he helped to remind me that the information may include something I’ve never known, but it doesn’t have to change anything in my life. When I remember that, I let it sink in again. I didn’t have to tell my mother... and maybe I shouldn’t have. I can’t make her hide this from Dad.
“It sounds as if he’s taken advantage of your vulnerability, Liv.”
“Let’s go back to the listening part, okay?” I ask her, wanting her to withhold judgement until she’s heard it all. “Mom, he had read all of my letters. And when I confronted him about how selfish and hurtful he’d been, he picked the paintings out by name. He knew which one each letter corresponded to, and he had an apology for all of them.”
It’s then that she notices the necklace is back in my possession. “He gave it back?”
“It’s my birthday present.”
“It’s just all too easy and convenient, don’t you think?”
“He was crying, Mom. It wasn’t easy for him. I know in my heart it wasn’t. And if it’s convenient for me that he showed up when he did, I’m okay with that. He was a welcome sight to see, and I feel... safe. Assured. Cherished and loved.”
My mother laughs lightly.
“What?” I ask.
“We rode up the elevator with Emmanuel,” she says, and I freeze. “Here your father thinks he was grilling your new boyfriend... I could tell he didn’t know what to think about him.”
“Oh, God, he’s here?!”
“I left the two of them in the hallway when I snuck into Matty’s place... and he and Finn filled me in. Jacks and Emmanuel were still talking when I came upstairs.”
I swallow hard. “And you sent Jon down there... this is kind of a volatile situation, Mom. Jon’s not going to like Emmanuel, Dad’s not going to like seeing Jon, and Emmanuel’s not going to have any idea what world he’s just stepped into.”
“And Matty’s going to be supplying the popcorn,” Mom adds.
“We have to get downstairs,” I tell her urgently.
“Liv,” she says, holding me back. “I can’t keep this secret forever. It’s too much.”
“I know, Mom. Give me a little time, though. I need to figure out what I’m going to do about it all.”
“I’ll do my best. Say something soon. Please.”
“Okay.”
Dad and Matty are the only two in the hallway when we get back to the 12th floor. “Happy birthday, Contessa,” he says, his arms stretched out as he waits for a hug.
“Thanks, Daddy. Where’s everyone else?”
“In your loft... where I’m sure you’re wanted.”
“Little Liv, you’ve got mascara streaks. Come inside.” Matty and my parents follow me into his apartment, and we all go to the back bathroom away from the bar and Matty’s noisy guests.
“Are you okay?” my dad asks. Mom wets a tissue with some water and wipes the roving makeup from my cheek.
My uncle digs through one of his bathroom drawers and pulls out some pressed powder that better matches my skin tone than my mother’s would. “Don’t ask,” he says with a sly grin.
“Thanks, Matty.” I apply it generously, hoping to mask the redness around my eyes and nose. “And I’ll be okay, Dad. But I’m more interested in Emmanuel and Jon.”
“As am I,” he says. “Two questions,” he starts quickly. “One. Why is Jon here? Two. What do you see in that other kid?”
“Jon’s back,” I say, answering the first plainly. I would, after all, like to enjoy the party at some point. “And Emmanuel, well... he’s different.”
“He’s the Anti-Jon,” Matty says. My mom and I both laugh. “Jacks was saying how grateful he was that Jon had been your first boyfriend–”
“Yes, I’d started saying that, seeing for maybe the first time that you could have done much worse, but then I didn’t get to finish what I was saying... which was if Emmanuel treats you better than Jon has, that I’d have to adjust the expectations I have for your future boyfriends.”
“We don’t really have time to talk about this, Daddy,” I tell him. “And plus, I just fixed my makeup. Don’t change your expectations... you will have to accept the first thing I said, though. Jon’s back.”
“For good?” he asks, looking leery. In fact, they all have the same look.
“Yes.”
“To stay?” Dad clarifies. “Because he doesn’t have a good track record of that.”
“To stay. Daddy, I’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk all about the seven million things that have happened... and you can come to terms with all the decisions I’ve had to make today. Maybe I’ll regret some. Maybe I won’t.”
“Jacks, let’s let her go to her party.”
“All right,” he agrees with a smile and an embrace. “I just hope you get everything you want.”
“I have,” I tell him. “And even a few things I didn’t want.” I mumble that part under my breath as I hug my mother goodbye. She looks at me, her eyes sad. I kiss her cheek and smile assuringly.
“Take these,” Matty says, handing me two cold bottles of champagne.
“It’s special, from our cellar,” Dad says. “Share with your guests... if they’re not driving.”
“Thanks, Dad.” He opens the door of my loft for me, waving goodbye to our relatives and my friends. I seek Jon out immediately, who’s talking to Lexi and Kyle in the kitchen while the rest of the guests sit around the living room area. Emmanuel approaches me and takes both bottles from me. He sets them aside, then runs his hand down my arm and kisses my bare shoulder. I squirm away from him quickly, and I can’t avoid the hurt
in Jon’s eyes when I look his way.
“Emmanuel, have you met everyone?”
“I haven’t met him,” Lexi says, walking toward him to shake his hand. “I’m Livvy’s cousin, Lexi, and this is my husband, Kyle.”
Emmanuel greets them both amicably, and then stares at Jon, waiting for an introduction to the only one left.
“I’m Jon. It’s nice to finally meet you, Manny.” He holds out his hand.
Reluctantly, my friend shakes it. “It’s Emmanuel.”
“Right,” Jon says. “It’s just that when Liv first told me about you last year when you took her picture, she referred to you as Manny. It was a nice picture, by the way. Thank you.”
“You’re the Jon?”
“The one and only,” Jon says, commanding the conversation. “This is the same guy, right, Liv? The one who photographs nudes? The one who lured you into his studio last year for a photo op?”
I shake my head, nervous, wanting to remind him that’s not exactly how it seemed to me, but he always had his suspicions. “Yes, but–”
“I’m not sure I would call it luring,” Emmanuel says. “She came willingly.”
“Jon,” I say softly, hoping he’ll let it go. “He took that for you,” I remind him.
“Actually, Livvy, I did keep a copy. I didn’t think you’d let me photograph you like that... even if I’d told you how pretty I thought you were.” Jon smirks at me. “I still have it, actually. By my bed.”
Jon’s nostril’s flare. “Liv,” he starts, “if this is a test of my patience, I’m about to lose it.”
“Hey, man,” my friend says to him. “She’s fair game. You walked away from her. Gotta give the rest of us a taste.”
“Wow,” I say, putting myself in between them. “As appealing as that sounds–you know, giving the rest of you a taste–” I narrow my eyes at Emmanuel, hoping he catches on to my distinct distaste of his choice of words.
“Maybe not the rest of us... you can stop with me.” He puts his arm across my shoulder, but I move before I see Jon’s arm reach for mine to pull me away.
