by Lori L. Otto
“Hands off!” I laugh. “Fine. You don’t have to show me yours because I’m not showing you mine.” He raises his eyebrows. I realize what I said and laugh as I nudge his arm with my shoulder.
“I say we take all the boys back to their homes... and we take a trip to campus. What do you say?”
“You have something to show me?” I ask coyly.
“I might,” he says. I let him take one of the bags from me when he promises not to peek, and we make two stops before finding ourselves at Columbia, where we spend the next couple of hours in the comfort and solitude of one another. If this was the only thing he gave me this Christmas, it would be fine with me.
It’s not, though. As we gather our things to head home, we both have moments of weakness and decide to exchange gifts while we’re alone. He likes all of his gifts, and immediately transfers his things to his new wallet.
“I have more to give you, but here,” he says, handing me the bag from the department store. The plaid pattern brings an immediate smile to my face. “The one you wanted was a little out of my price range, but–”
I cut him off with a kiss, which eventually causes me to drop the gift on the ground as we get a little carried away again.
“It’s okay?” he asks after pulling away. I lean back down to pick it up, admiring the small cross-body bag that will hold my essentials perfectly.
“I love it! I’ll get much more use out of this, thank you!” I gush. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby. And thank you.”
The following night, on Christmas Eve, Jon’s family comes to my house for a small dinner. My parents wanted to take some time to get to know Margie better, and to see how she was doing post-rehab. She and Jon’s brothers are coming to the big family celebration tomorrow, too, but this will give everyone more time to talk.
As we sit around the tree after dinner, I give his family the ornaments I’d painted for them over the past week at home.
“You have such a talented daughter,” Margie tells my parents.
“Well, we’re pretty impressed with Jon, too. They seem well-suited for one another,” Mom says.
“Yes,” Jon’s mom agrees.
“Margie, would you like some coffee?” Dad asks.
“That would be great.”
“Livvy, why don’t you and Jon go get some started? And boys?” he addresses our brothers. “You’re free to go downstairs and play some games or watch movies.” Will, Max and Trey all run to the basement, and Jon and I head to the kitchen.
“That wasn’t subtle, was it?” I ask Jon, handing him the pot to fill with water. I turn on the coffeemaker and measure out the fresh grounds.
“Not at all.” Too curious, we move to the counter closest to the living room, trying to listen.
“I think they’re too young,” I hear my dad say softly. I glare at Jon, feeling restless and wanting to be a part of this conversation. Jon takes my hand, holding me in place.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Margie says. “I don’t want them making the same mistakes I made. Not seeing what was out there... raising a young child when I was still barely an adult myself... it’s a hard life. You two were much older, and look how you’ve turned out.”
“We were much older when we married, yes,” I hear my mother say, “but I was close to Livvy’s age when we first met. It was love at first sight,” she adds.
“Jon’s, what? Nineteen?” Dad asks.
“He’ll be twenty in March.”
“He does seem so much older,” Mom laments. “Jacks was twenty-three? Right?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe kids are more mature these days, but Jon seems much older than you were when we met.”
“I think it’s just Jon,” Dad says. “Look at Andrew. Or Finn. Or hell, Brandon.”
“He did have to grow up so quickly. I don’t know where he gets his maturity from,” his mother says. “Maybe his father, but he’s so different from him. But regardless, he’s still only nineteen. He has so much of his life ahead of him.”
“Jacks and I disagree on this subject,” Mom tells her. “They are in love. They are madly in love. I won’t be the one to impede that. She’s happiest when she’s with him, and I want nothing more than for my daughter to be happy.”
“But think of how she spent her summer, Poppet,” Dad says. “She was devastated. Every day, her sadness chipped away at my own heart. I hated what was happening.”
“I think the distance made Jon feel like it was okay for him to ignore the situation... but I think it was a momentary lapse in judgment. In his maturity, even,” Margie says.
When I see the remorse on his face, I look away from Jon, not willing to dwell on a single memory of last summer. I forgave him long ago.
“Maybe he’s not as grown up as we think he is,” his mother adds. “Believe me, I’m ecstatic that your daughter loves my Jonny. The whole thing just seems too good to be true. I’ve even heard Jon say that.”
I caress his face as my gaze returns to his. “What are they plotting?” he whispers to me. “Do they think they can arrange a separation?”
“They’re stupid if they think that,” I comment.
“Very,” he agrees. “This is it,” he reminds me.
“I know,” I say, stretching toward him for a kiss. “I think my mom knows.”
“Yeah, your mom’s on our side.”
“Which means it’s only a matter of time until my dad gets on board.”
“My mother just has no reference point,” Jon says. “I think she expects all relationships to fail.”
“We won’t fail,” I declare with a smile. “We’ll show her.”
CHAPTER 14
“Hey, Francisco!”
“Livvy, we’ve missed you,” my doorman says, giving me a hug.
“I’ve missed you... and the loft,” I tell him with a shrug. “But it’s been nice staying with Mom and Dad. Don’t tell them, but I’ve kind of missed them, too.”
“Well, it was so thoughtful of you to let Jon and his family stay here over the holidays. The little one–”
“Max?”
“Yes, Max. He’s been teaching me karate.”
“Karate, really? I didn’t know he knew karate. I guess you never know when that might come in handy, huh?” Francisco laughs. “Can you call up and let Jon know I’m here?”
“Oh, of course.” I watch the passers-by from the lobby windows, excited to get on the road. “Livvy, I can take you up now.”
On the twelfth floor, Matty’s door is wide open. I peek inside on the way to my own door, but he doesn’t appear to be inside. Jon opens my loft for me before I have a chance to knock.
He’s wearing the black sweater I got him for Christmas with a collared shirt underneath. “You look really nice,” I tell him, going inside. My uncle is sitting at the dining room table with Margie.
“Hey, Matty.” My uncle gets up to give me a peck on the cheek. “What are you doing here?”
“He didn’t approve of my first outfit,” Jon half-mumbles.
“This is your work?” I ask my uncle, pointing to Jon. He nods proudly. “That makes more sense. No offense, Jon,” I tell him, “but you do look a little more put together than usual.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says.
“That’s so cute you went to Matty for fashion advice–”
“No, I didn’t,” he says as his cheeks get blotchy.
“No? I think you did,” my uncle argues.
“Well... not for that. I don’t want to wear a bow tie, Olivia, that’s all. I just wanted to see if he had any options.”
“That’s why you called to get the color of my dress? Did you find something?” I ask Matty. He nods. “Let me see.”
“It’s packed,” Jon says.
“Warm silver?” I clarify with my uncle again. “It’s borderline champagne. Please, let me see?”
“It’s fine, Liv. Let’s hit the road,” Jon says, arranging a suitcase and hanging bag on t
he dining room table. My uncle also let him borrow his incredibly expensive luggage. “I’ve got the black tie and stuff, too, if it doesn’t work. Don’t worry.”
“Alright,” I sigh. “Margie, thanks for letting me steal him away. This party means a lot to my roommate.”
“I just want pictures,” his mother says.
“I’ll make sure we take some,” I assure her. Jon goes into the other living room to tell his brothers goodbye while I hug his mother and my uncle. I take the rolling luggage from Jon, letting him deal with an overnight bag and his tux.
Francisco holds the door for us, and our driver takes the bag from me immediately. I stand back to see Jon’s expression. He looks incredibly apprehensive, taking cautious steps to the trunk to hand over his luggage. After the trunk is closed, the driver comes to open the passenger side door. I step inside, moving my purse off of the seat next to me. Jon stands on the sidewalk until he realizes he’s supposed to get in on the other side of the car. He seems to only discover this when the driver opens the door for him.
“I don’t know limo etiquette,” Jon says, embarrassed.
“You’re fine,” I promise him, leaning in to give him a kiss.
“This is necessary?”
“Kind of, yes. This is a pretty special-occasion for me, too,” I tell him. “My dad doesn’t like the fuss.”
“I’m with your dad,” he says as a few people watch the car pull away from the curb. “I’ve been in one limo, and the car I was in was the last thing on my mind.”
“When?”
“Dad’s funeral.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. “Well, hopefully this will provide happier memories.”
“I’m so nervous,” he admits. “I’ve never been so stressed to go to a party. Parties are supposed to be fun, right?”
“It will be.” I confidently make him that guarantee. “And I have some surprises in store for you, too. I promise you’re going to have an amazing night today, and an awesome day tomorrow.”
He takes my hand in his over the center console and puts his feet on the footrest in front of him. “So back to etiquette...”
“Leon, can you raise the privacy screen, please?” I ask the driver. He’s already pushed the button before I finish the question.
“Why’d you do that?” Jon asks.
“I’m trying to teach you etiquette. So, you should always ask the driver to do that before a heated argument or sex.”
Jon looks at me, uneasy. “And which one are we about to do?”
“Neither,” I laugh. “I just thought you would prefer the lesson without him actually hearing.”
“Okay.”
“We have to tip him when we get to Hartford.”
“How much?”
“Dad says between fifty and seventy-five. I’ve got it,” I tell him, not expecting him to pay for anything this trip.
“Do we tip him that every time?”
“He won’t be driving us anywhere else. He’s just taking us to our hotel in Hartford. There’s another car waiting for us there.”
“Okay. Wait, how are we getting home?”
“Can you not worry about things, please?” I ask him. “I just want you to relax. I’d serve you some champagne, but my dad made sure that wasn’t included in the contract.”
“It’s a practical question.”
“And it’s one you don’t need to worry about. You took care of everything last New Year’s Eve. Let me do it this year.”
“How are your parents faring without you? Don’t you always spend the day together?”
“Mom and Dad made plans. They took a jet to Boston this morning. Actually, Dad made the plans in an effort to keep Mom from worrying about us. She doesn’t want us on the road tonight at all... so I kind of lied and told her we were staying in Glastonbury with Rachelle.”
“I thought we weren’t lying anymore.”
“Dad told me to.”
“Well, okay then,” Jon laughs. “Your father knows best.”
When we finally arrive at the boutique hotel, Jon uses his own money to tip the driver after he hands over our luggage to the bellboy. I allow Jon to meander through the lobby, watching as he takes in the surroundings of the hotel. I check out a large aquarium that takes up an entire wall. He makes his way to one of the twelve towering shelves of books, picking one up and thumbing through the pages. It’s an architectural design book with glossy pages of photos and sketches.
“We can take that to our room, if you want. Any of them,” I tell him.
“Really?”
“Yeah. And from what I understand, there is a wall full of books there already, too.” He grins from ear to ear. “See? That should be enough of a distraction to keep you from being nervous, right?”
He tucks the book beneath his arm and picks up another large tome before we make it to the check-in counter.
“Reservations for Jon Scott,” I tell the hostess brightly, happy to be out in public with my boyfriend.
“Yes, Miss Holland. You had the King Study, correct?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“For one night, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Here is your key to the hotel,” she says, handing Jon the small card, “as well as the key to your rental car.” For that, we get a small envelope, which he looks at curiously.
“Ready?” I ask him.
“Yeah, of course.” As we follow the bellman to the elevator, he tries to open the envelope.
“Let me hold your books,” I suggest, taking them from him. Mathematic theory? My boyfriend’s such a nerd. An adorable nerd, but still.
“Holy shit, Olivia,” he says, pulling out a card with a photo and description of the car. “An Aston Martin. You can’t drive an Aston Martin.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“I can’t drive an Aston Martin.”
“Well, you better figure out how, because you’re driving us to Glastonbury in it.”
“An Aston Martin Vanquish?!”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a nearly two-hundred-thousand dollar car, Liv.”
“It’s just a rental. It’s insured.”
“I’m not driving that,” he says, but the smile on his face betrays the sentiment.
“Okay, then.” I look at the bellboy’s name tag. “Justin?”
“Yes, miss?” he says politely.
“I have a party to go to tonight, and I need someone to take me. Would you mind–”
“Never mind, Justin, thank you,” Jon says, playfully covering my mouth.
“Yes, sir,” he answers.
“Her house is only fifteen miles from here. We can make it there and back, don’t you think?”
“Hope so,” he says. “I thought this was supposed to be less nerve-wracking. This is a lot of pressure, baby.” Justin sets our bags inside the hotel room. While Jon wanders around, checking out the accommodations, I tip our bellboy and dismiss him from the room.
“We have six hours before the party, okay? You can geek out on your books or watch porn or sleep or–”
“Or show you how much I appreciate you?” I smile, letting him wrap his arms around my body. He kisses my temple, then my cheek.
“No, not that,” I say, freeing myself. “That’ll come later tonight. I’m afraid if we start that, we’ll miss the party.”
“Would that be so bad?” he asks.
“You’re going to want to take me out when you see my dress,” I assure him.
“Plus, I get to drive that car.”
“What, now you’re excited about that?”
“My heart’s racing... and I’m pretty sure that might be the cause. I just don’t want to make a fool out of myself, driving that thing.”
“I can unpack our stuff,” I offer, “if you want to give it a test drive.”
He barely even considers the offer before taking the keys in his hand. “Where’s this place tonight?” I find the invitation in my purse and hand it to him
. “Does the car have GPS?”
“Of course.”
He takes a deep breath, then returns to me, enveloping me in his arms. He kisses me fully and appreciatively. “I’m just going to make a test run. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Just be careful,” I tell him. “Take your phone.” I put my hands on his jawline and press my lips to his once more. I can feel his quick heartbeat beneath my pinkies. He really is excited about this car. Good call, Liv.
Matty’s woven silk tie is beautiful. It’s monochrome with a beautiful paisley pattern. I take my dress out of its bag and hold the two next to one another. In certain light, the sheen of it matches perfectly, and at other angles, it will still look like we belong together. Not that we need fancy clothes for that.
I’ll have to do something nice for Matty for his help with the car and the tie. I hope both make Jon feel more comfortable tonight.
After putting everything away, I sit down at the work table and wake up the iMac provided by the hotel. I check the weather, tracking a cold front that’s supposed to hit in two days. I log in to my email to see if last semester’s grades have posted. Straight A’s. Mom and Dad should be happy. After awhile, I give in to my curiosity, doing a search for my biological father.
Isaiah Grate.
Not that I want to meet him or anything... I just want to see where he lives. I’m in his hometown. I can’t help but wonder about him. After all, I might run into him. Hartford’s not that big.
I see the link to the article quickly. My hand shaking, I go back to that page and study his eyes intently again, still seeing how similar they are to mine.
Returning to the main search page, I find his address and plot it on a map, checking the distance. He lives less than five miles from here. After closing the browser, the city traffic outside the window keeps the focus of my eyes while my mind wanders elsewhere. Would he see himself in me, if he ever came across me?
The wiggle of the door knob startles me out of my haze. I struggle to keep the melancholy at bay. I don’t want to be sad or reflective today. I know I have to exude enough confidence for both of us tonight, although I have a feeling Jon will warm up to the surroundings, if he gives the other guests a chance.
“You okay?” Jon asks.
