“Let’s order another bottle!” Petra announced then summoned the waitress.
“So we’re meeting again tomorrow morning, Petra?” Lucie asked, keen to distract her friend from her worries.
“Yes, darling.” Petra filled their glasses from the fresh bottle of champagne. “Just to practise hair and makeup and to try the dresses on in case they need any final adjustments.”
“Ooh! Makeup, eh?” Dale asked. “So you don’t trust Lucie to do her own.”
“Ha! Ha!” Petra flicked her long platinum blonde hair over her shoulders. “Much as Lucie does a grand old job on herself, we’re going for something a bit special. I was thinking, Lucie, that we could get some highlights in your hair. Brighten it up a bit. What do you think?”
Lucie swallowed more champagne. So she wasn’t just going to have to wear a dress of Petra’s choosing, but she’d be caked in makeup and have her hair played about with too. “Whatever you think is best, Petra. It’s your wedding.”
“Wonderful!” Petra placed her empty glass on the table and watched as Harry approached.
“Sorry about that. Bloody subordinate can’t make a decision without checking first. No idea how he’s going to manage when he’s out there on his own. Probably won’t, if I’m brutally honest.” He snorted and shook his head.
Petra pursed her lips in disapproval. “Well, I hope they leave you alone on Christmas Eve, because I don’t think it’s appropriate to answer the phone as you say your vows, Harry.”
Lucie shifted uncomfortably in her seat and noticed Dale doing the same. The last thing they wanted was to get caught up in a domestic.
“That won’t happen, Pets. I promise. Phone will be switched off… at least until the reception.”
Petra jerked in her chair and her eyes widened, but Harry held up his hands. “Joking! Joking! It will be switched off until after Boxing Day, I promise. Now let’s make a toast to friendships, to marriage and to having a very merry Christmas!” Harry announced as he refilled all the glasses.
“Cheers!”
They clinked glasses, but as Lucie eyed the couple over the bubbles, she wondered exactly how enjoyable it was going to be for Petra, and came to the conclusion that for her friend at least, it might not be very merry at all.
***
Lucie and Dale said their goodbyes to Petra and Harry then headed back out into the snow. They’d left the soon-to-be-married couple finishing off their champagne as Petra glowered at Harry over her glass.
“Okay, out with it!” Dale took hold of Lucie’s upper arms.
“Out with what?”
“Whatever’s bothering you. I know you, Lucie, and something’s wrong.”
“Oh Dale, it’s just that being there with Petra and Harry… it didn’t feel right.”
“In what way?” He let go of her and tucked his hands into his coat pockets.
“I feel that it’s not my place to analyse their relationship, but at the same time I can’t help it.”
“Well, it’s okay to tell me isn’t it? That won’t cause any damage; you can just sound it out. But it would be a different matter if you were telling Petra all this just days before her wedding. That could kind of spoil things for her.”
Lucie nodded. “Do they seem happy to you?”
Dale blinked hard. “Happy? I don’t know. The thing is, I don’t know them very well and I don’t see them regularly, so for all I know, that could be as happy as they ever get.”
“What I mean is, do they seem like a couple about to get married? They should be ultra-loved-up right now, seeing as how Harry only recently proposed and they are getting married in one of the most exciting cities in the world at Christmas.”
“I’m honestly not sure. Weddings are supposed to be extremely stressful to plan, so perhaps it’s just the pressure getting to them.”
“Ever the pragmatist, Dale. So you think this is just me being overly sensitive, right?”
“No. No.” He shook his head. “I would never presume to suggest that. All I’m saying is that it’s difficult to judge how happy someone else’s relationship is, let alone the relationship of a friend you rarely see.”
Lucie watched as a snowflake melted on his cheek, leaving a crystal droplet of water. She instinctively reached out and gently wiped it away with her thumb. “I know. You are right. I don’t know how they are together usually. They’ve been together a long time too, so it’s not as if they’re in the first flush of love. I just believe that you should be head over heels in love in order to marry someone. Otherwise, what’s the point?” She pushed a lock of hair under her hat.
“I’m sure Petra knows what she’s doing. She always seemed to know exactly what she wanted.” Dale shrugged. “As much as you care about her, though, you can’t interfere in her life. Imagine if you did and things went wrong then she blamed you for it.”
“I know.” And Lucie did understand how awful that would be, but at the same time, she knew she would struggle to leave things unsaid. She vowed to only raise her concerns if she really had to. After all, Lucie knew how it was to be hurt by a man she loved. To find out that he wasn’t who she’d thought he was. The humiliation had been devastating, and coming at Christmas time it had further compounded her loathing of the festive season.
“Come on, let’s get to Central Park. There’s something I want us to do and we need to make the most of today.”
Lucie smiled. He was right. They were in New York, in the snow and away from everything that had hurt her in the past. As much as she cared about Petra, she also cared about Dale. And right now, it was time to focus on him.
Chapter 11
“So we’ll see you in just over two hours?”
The driver nodded at Dale then handed him a receipt. Dale walked back to where Lucie was standing as she gazed at the incredible view.
“All sorted.”
“You managed to book us a ride?”
“Of course.”
“But how did you do that at such short notice? I thought the carriages would all have been busy at this time of year.”
“Oh, I have my ways.” Dale tapped the side of his nose.
“Yeah, yeah.” Lucie giggled. “Bet he had a cancellation didn’t he?”
“Something like that. Right, come on, time for our walk in Central Park.”
Lucie rearranged her scarf so that the back of her neck was completely covered, then followed Dale through the opening on West 72^nd^ street into the park. Everything seemed dreamlike. The snowflakes drifted lazily from the leaden sky and sounds were muffled, as if the heavens had dropped cotton wool onto everything. They crunched along the path through the freshly fallen snow, and Lucie breathed deeply of the fresh, icy air.
“Here we have Strawberry Fields.” Dale gestured to their left. “In case you don’t know, it’s the area of the park dedicated to John Lennon. It’s in the shape of a teardrop.”
They stopped in front of a large mosaic on the ground. It was partially covered but it looked as though someone had already wiped some of the snow away. At the centre of the circle was a word. Lucie moved closer. “Imagine.”
“Gosh, yes, imagine. It’s hard to, I know, but just across the road from where we came into the park is where Lennon was shot.”
Lucie covered her mouth, her eyes suddenly stinging. “Really?”
Dale nodded. “It’s so sad, even all these years later.”
“When did it happen?”
“December nineteen-eighty.”
Lucie shook her head. “Such a long time, yet still no time at all.”
“Before you were born.”
“Before you were born, too.”
“True. It’s a cool vision though, right?”
“Living in harmony and all that?”
Dale nodded.
“This is beautiful, Dale, and I’m glad we started here. I like to imagine how good life could be. I mean… life is good anyway, but what I mean is… well, we all need dreams, right? Things to aspir
e to.”
“We do. I wanted to show you the spot because it’s iconic, and you can’t come to Manhattan without seeing Strawberry Fields.”
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm then said, “I’m freezing!”, as if she needed to explain why she wanted to get closer to him.
Next they approached a large fountain. “And this is Cherry Hill Fountain.” They paused in front of the impressive landmark. “It was originally created as a watering trough for horses.”
Lucie gazed at the ornamental Victorian structure with its granite dome and tiled basin. At the top of the central tower were eight frosted glass lamps and a golden spire, all now dusted with soft white snow. “It’s beautiful. I can just picture horses stopping here to drink.”
“Wait until you see what’s next,” Dale said.
“Oh, Dale!” Lucie squealed as they approached a bridge. “I know this one.”
“It’s Bow Bridge.” He smiled. “It’s uh… Hold on.” He turned away and pulled his mobile from his pocket, scrolled down the screen, then tucked it away again.
“Message from home?” Lucie asked, feeling a bit disgruntled as she realized that she wanted his full attention. She didn’t want anyone else interrupting this day that they’d planned to spend together.
“Something like that.” His cheeks flushed. “Anyway… as I was saying… this is Bow Bridge. It’s made of cast iron and spans sixty feet. The walkway, which we can’t really see right now because of the snow, is made of a type of hardwood that apparently turns a rich deep red when it’s wet.”
Lucie frowned. “You sound like a tour guide, Dale. Have you worked here in a former life perhaps?”
He laughed.
“I know you read up on some places to visit before we came, but how did you remember so much?”
His blush deepened. “I just wanted to be able to provide you with enough detail. You know… impress you a bit, I guess. So I was checking the tourist information on my phone.”
“But why’d you need to impress me? We’re relaxed together, right?”
Dale paused halfway across the bridge and gazed out across the water. “Of course we are.” Lucie watched as his breath emerged from between his full lips like puffs of smoke. “I want you to enjoy this trip, Luce. It’s really important to me.”
“I am enjoying it, Dale. It’s such a fabulous place to be.”
“Isn’t there someone else you’d rather be here with, though?”
Lucie paused for a moment, picturing the men she’d been with in her life, the ones she’d cast aside quickly and the ones who’d been allowed to get closer, like Jamie, who in the early days of their relationship had seemed perfect. Her stomach lurched at the memory. Then she looked back at Dale; tall, broad, dark-eyed, warm-hearted, familiar. Dale was patient and kind. He was everything that Jamie hadn’t been, indeed that no other man had ever been for her.
“No, Dale.” As she inhaled, the icy air was cleansing, renewing. Like a fresh start. The beginning of a whole new dream. “There is no one I would rather be here with than you.”
He smiled at her then, so openly that it lit up his face and it filled her heart.
Suddenly she knew without any doubt at all.
And she was terrified.
***
“Quick! Look at the time!” Dale tapped his watch. “We need to get back for our carriage ride.”
They retraced their steps across the park, back to West 72^nd^ street. Lucie giggled as they slipped and skidded along on the snow-covered ground. Her heart was racing, her breaths coming short and sharp and her fingers were tingling where Dale was gripping them as he tried to keep her upright.
“Stop laughing, Luce! It’s not funny. I had to pay extra to reserve that carriage.”
“Sorry! It’s just we took such a leisurely stroll and now we’re having to run back. If we’re not careful, one of us will break something – and if it’s me, Petra will be furious. I don’t think I could pull off a cast on my arm with my bridesmaid dress and, well, if it’s my leg, crutches would make her absolutely furious.”
They reached the edge of the park. “There he is!” Dale pointed at the large red and white carriage.
They marched over to it and the driver jumped down. “Hey there! You enjoy your walk?”
“Beautiful!” Lucie announced.
“Fascinating,” Dale replied. “But we got carried away and I was worried we were going to miss you.”
“I’d have waited for a bit. You made it worth my while, remember.” He winked at Dale, and Lucie watched her friend’s face carefully, wondering exactly how much he’d paid the driver to reserve the carriage.
Dale helped her into the cab then climbed up next to her and the driver handed them a fluffy red blanket.
“Champagne you wanted, wasn’t it?” he asked as he opened a cooler box and produced a bottle and two glasses.
“Absolutely!” Dale took the glasses and handed them to Lucie then popped the cork.
“More champagne?” Lucie held the glasses out for Dale to fill them.
“We can’t do an afternoon carriage ride around Central Park without something special to drink, now, can we?” Dale clinked his glass against hers. “Cheers, Luce! Here’s to being best friends and to having a good Christmas.”
“Cheers!” Lucie sipped her champagne. She wanted to say more, to make a toast to friendship and to Manhattan, but her throat was so tight that she knew she’d be unable to squeeze any words out. So instead, she snuggled under the blanket, moved a bit closer to Dale and his comforting warmth, and settled in to enjoy the ride.
***
Dale felt as though they’d stepped back in time as the driver clicked his tongue and the horse set off. The carriage was immaculate, with its velvet-covered seats and leather canopy. The horse even had a plume in its harness to match the deep red colour scheme.
The driver called out when they reached the first attraction on the tour. “There’s the Wollman Rink. It opened in 1949 with funds donated by Kate Wollman. She donated the grand sum of six hundred thousand dollars, to commemorate her family from Kansas. Her brother William operated a stock exchange firm.”
“That’s a lot of money to donate,” Dale replied.
“Probably not to them.” The driver turned and flashed them a crooked smile. “Next up is the Carousel.”
Dale was warm and comfortable and the soft rocking of the carriage combined with the cosy warmth of the blanket made him incredibly relaxed. He sipped his champagne and listened to the driver’s New York twang as the knowledgeable man relayed more details about the Chess and Checkers House, the Sheep Meadow and the Central Park Zoo.
“How’re you doing there?” Dale eyed Lucie’s glass. “Need a top up?”
“Please.” She held out her flute and waited for him to refill it.
“Have you stopped worrying now?”
“About?”
“Petra and Harry.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“You shouldn’t worry. They’re both adults and whatever they decide to do is on them.”
“I know.” She ran a finger around the rim of her glass.
The combination of the bubbly and the cold had made her cheeks pink, which Dale thought made her look irresistibly cute. He wondered if he’d be able to taste the champagne on her lips if he kissed her. If her lips would be warm. If she would slide her hand around his neck and pull him close.
“What?” Lucie met his eyes and heat flooded through him. “You’re staring at me funny.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Like you want my champagne or something.”
Or something…
“I’m a bit cold, Dale.”
“Come here.” He held out his arm and Lucie snuggled under it. He tucked the blanket around her and leaned slightly to clink his glass against hers. “That better?”
“Yes. You always make it better.” She lifted her chin and their mouths were almost touching. Her breath was sweet and warm and he
was overwhelmed by the urge to taste her.
“Lucie.” His voice came out ragged. “I—”
“And here’s The Plaza!” the driver announced, making Dale jump and spill the remains of his drink down the front of his coat. He pulled his arm back and rummaged in his pocket for a tissue.
When he looked up, Lucie had shuffled over on the seat, and he knew that the moment they’d just shared, when he could have told her exactly how much she meant to him, had passed.
***
Straight after breakfast the next morning, Lucie left Dale at their hotel and made her way to The Plaza. After the previous day’s events, she was reluctant to leave him but she had to attend the hair and makeup trial then have a final dress fitting.
The receptionist directed her to the salon, and when she entered, she was greeted by delighted squeals and coos. Petra and her other bridesmaids had already arrived. The salon was spacious and bright, with large mirrors hanging on the walls and lots of shiny surfaces. Spotlights dropped from the ceiling, positioned precisely to create optimal illumination for the stylists. On the walls between the mirrors were small lamps with sheer pink shades.
“Lucie!” Petra bestowed her customary air kisses. “So good to see you, darling! If you take a seat, Lauren will take care of you in a moment. She’s just finishing off Giana’s eyebrows.”
Lucie looked across to Giana and had to bite her lip. The beautiful Anglo-Italian woman was in a debate with the stylist about whether one eyebrow was thicker than the other. The stylist was being very apologetic, but even so, it didn’t look like Giana was going to let the girl off easily.
“Sorry about the little tiff you and Dale witnessed over champers yesterday. It’s just the pressure building, I’m sure, and I do wish Harry would turn his damned phone off just for two minutes, you know?” She paused, chewing her lower lip, and Lucie nodded, uncertain what to say – unless she told her what Tania had said, but that was a no. Dale had agreed on that one. “You and Dale seem very happy though. Did you sneak back later and look at some more rings?”
A Very Merry Manhattan Christmas Page 14
