by Lexi Aurora
Now, Allan’s pressing his lips to mine.
“It is real.”
Once again, he’s pressing me to him, my eyes are closing, and he’s rocking me, even slower this time. Until I’m half-asleep and then, suddenly, remembering just whose arms I’m in, just who’ve I slept with, I jerk up with a jolt.
A half-delighted, half-hysterical gurgle of laughter escapes my throat, then Allan’s laughing too. It’s both of us, flopped together on the floor, hands clasped, laughing our heads off at it, the luck of this, of everything, of us.
Allan squeezes my hand once again.
“So, is that your way of saying that I’m not a fool for having these strong of feelings for a woman I’ve only had a handful of dates with?”
I respond with a kiss.
“Not a complete fool.”
Allan smirks, and I continue.
“You too, Allan, awakened something in me that I’d forgotten was there. A sort of vulnerability, a willingness to share, an openness. Before, I was so caught up in power games and half-truths with men who weren’t good for me, I’d forgotten what a real, healthy relationship built on honesty and mutual respect looked like. You believed in me, my work—even when I had trouble believing in it myself. From the start, you saw me, you really saw me. And then, as I grew to know you, my attraction for you only grew, as inconvenient as it was, I couldn’t deny how I laughed and opened up like no other with you, how, once you left, my face hurt from smiling so much. You get me and you challenge me, and Allan, I would be the fool if I didn’t tell you that you’re the man for me. Allan Dane, you’re the man for me.”
We both grin in a painful face-wide smile. Allan kisses me again, the world stops, and I’m so happy, my lips and his—and nothing, ever—has felt so right, and I’m so happy that I could burst out laughing at nothing again.
“Oh damn.”
Allan’s looking at his phone.
“What is it?”
“It’s 11:00 p.m. already and I haven’t even told you.”
“Told me what?”
His face, which was unreadable before, grows excited.
“We’re launching the app at midnight.”
I jump up.
“What?”
Chuckling, Allan rises himself, puts the still-lit candle on the table, takes my hand.
“You heard me.”
I turn to him, scanning his face for signs of deceit but only find more evidence of his incredible happiness.
“You didn’t think that would be a good thing to maybe mention?”
He shrugs.
“Other things came up. Other things that seemed… pretty important.”
At his mischievous smile, there’s no doubt exactly what he’s talking about. Still, I give him a light bat on the arm.
“So what—we’re just going to sit here and grin about it?”
Allan gives me a light pat himself.
“On the contrary, you’re going to call Angel up and we’re going to go for another ride around town.”
“Oh yeah? And do I get to know why, this time?”
Allan gives me a light kiss on the cheek, then opens the door.
“You really hate surprises, don’t you?”
Squinting into the blinding restaurant light, I nod.
“Does that mean you’ll tell me?”
Allan bops my butt lightly, laughs.
“Nope.”
So, I call up Angel and invite her over.
No sooner have I put the phone down, however, than has she arrived, the whole restaurant filling with a frenzied knocking sound. Allan and I exchange a quizzical look, but I go to open the door regardless.
Standing in front of me, however, hunched over with drink, is not Angel, but Geno.
Seeing me, his frenzied face twists into a vicious smile.
“So, you’ve taken over my restaurant, stole it right from underneath me, eh? After all I’ve done for you, taught you…”
His laughing sounds something like choking, but he’s only gotten started. Staggering forward, hands extended, he sways his gaze about the room as he speaks.
“But not for long. I don’t care about your goddamn app and that goddamn Allan Dane. In fact, if I so much as see him, I’ll…”
Finally, Geno’s gaze flops on Allan. He freezes, his voice choking in his throat. Frozen in place, he sways back and forth, as Allan advances.
“You were saying, Geno?”
Silence.
“If you so much as see me, you’ll…”
At this, Geno turns around and takes off, half falling into the door in his haste to leave. By the time Allan and I make it to the door, Geno’s half a block away, cursing and moaning into the night.
Allan and I laugh, embrace, and that’s when Angel actually decides to show up.
“You just missed Geno.”
We recount what she just missed, and then Allan goes to the back to wake up Lisa. She comes into the room with a shy smile, then hugs me.
“I’m so glad you two worked things out. My brother deserves someone who makes him as happy as you do.”
No sooner have we all sat down to await the “surprise” Allan still assures me is coming, than the whole restaurant is filled with a honking sound. I cast Allan’s still-grinning face an incredulous look.
“You didn’t…”
He winks.
“I might’ve.”
We all rush outside to see that a limo has pulled up to the curb. Angel and I give each other an ecstatic hug, and then we go outside to the gleaming thing. Allan holds the door for all of us, taking care to help Lisa in, then clambers in himself. Then, shutting the door, he calls, “Go time” to the driver, and we’re zooming off, away from Picklebucket and into the glimmering city.
Allan presses a button and the sun roof opens up.
“You ladies go on out and enjoy the fresh air.”
To our stupefied faces, he gestures once more.
“Go on, stick your heads out—go on, I insist.”
Still, I can’t make out what this whole trip is for—if it’s just to celebrate our success, or if the furtive grin on Allan’s face is there for another reason.
As soon as my head’s out of the sunroof, into the cool night air, I get my answer. There, on an electronic billboard in front of me, is the all-too-familiar symbol: a smiling measuring pot being filled with foods and ingredients for my company, Delicieux. A billboard for my app.
As Angel whoops, I poke my head back down.
“You didn’t!”
Allan’s looking at me with his eyes alight. He hands me a glass of champagne, toasts his with it.
“I might’ve.”
And then, passing glasses of champagne to Angel and Lisa, Allan joins us, poking his head out of the sunroof, wrapping his arms around me. We all toast, laugh, whoop into the night. Allan wraps his arms around me, whispers into my ear.
“Keep your eye out, I have the driver taking us on a path around town to see a bunch of them, though we probably won’t even see half or a quarter of what I’ve purchased. These ads are going to run for the next month nonstop—all of New York is going to be inundated with your little app, Eva. You and Angel already have a waiting list of people who want to buy it, and now that it’s launched, I wouldn’t be surprised if it goes viral within the week. You’re going to have more business than you know what to do with.”
And so, the limo zips along New York city’s lit-up streets, all of them blurring into a luminescent paradise, everything dulled by the ads we spot every few minutes, the beacons of hope, of hard work paid off—Delicieux ad after Delicieux ad, spanning the roads as far as the eye can see.
I look over to my best friend Angel, my own happiness reflected on her teary-eyed beaming face, my new friend, Lisa, looking quietly happy herself, and behind me, Allan’s looking happier than I’ve ever seen him. And then I look back over the city, my New York City, metropolis of hopes and dreams, and, because this is already so much like a dream, All
an says the words that go with it, that make sense: “Eva, I want to meet this father of yours. This is definitely too soon and too much and over-the-top, but I love you, Eva Lynn, I do. I want to start talking about the future.”
And now the tears in my eyes are spilling over. I confirm what’s been beating in my heart since the moment I met him, and then we kiss, the whole city and every single atom in the universe smiling at us, and I know then, that everything, absolutely everything, is perfect and can’t get any better than this.
Chapter 18
And yet, perfection grows even more, does get better. The month is one long Allan binge. We spend nearly every waking minute together, day and night. I wake up to his snoring face and fall asleep to his blissfully happy one. We visit Lisa at her recovery clinic every few days and go to press conferences for Delicieux with Angel on the other ones. We go into Dad’s nursing home together. I want Allan to be there when I tell my Dad we’re getting him out of there. Besides, Allan himself was strangely insistent that he come.
This time, the walls look even yellower, the recreation room smelling even worse of pee. The TV is frozen between what looks like a cartoon and historical show, into some half-static hybrid that looks downright menacing.
After I break the news to Dad, he can only manage the smile that was there already. Allan, however, for his part, shoos me away before whispering something in my Dad’s ear. When I come back, he takes my hand in one of his, my Dad’s in the other, and then he turns to me.
“Is it okay if we go to the roof?”
“But why?”
That handsome grin of his is indefatigable.
“Trust me, babe.”
Finally I nod, with a worried look to my Dad.
“Could we leave him with Deidre?”
And so, we escort my dad to Allan’s Porsche outside, where Deidre waits. The final product of hundreds of interviews and a score of background checks, Deidre is, hands down, the best woman for the job. Perpetually cheerful and good-humored, I almost wanted to hire her to be my best friend instead of lending her out to my dad. Now, at the sight of my dad, she breaks into gleeful clapping.
“So, this is my new friend, now?”
I don’t leave them without a bit of reticence. Allan, however, assures me that whatever’s happening on the roof will only take a half hour and that I’ll be sorry if I say no.
So, I give in and let him take me back into that horrible, ugly building. The roof, luckily, is a bit less horrible. Open to the night air, with none of the grime of the interior, it’s almost nice.
No sooner have I turned to Allan than I hear a whirring sound from above.
“No way.”
Now, Allan can’t hold his grin back.
“Yes way.”
“But why?”
Worry flickers over his face. He shakes his head.
“You gonna make me do this now? On the top of the ugliest, rankest building I’ve ever been in?”
What he’s doing, what he can’t be doing, flashes through my mind, and now I’m the one shaking my head.
“No way.”
But already, the helicopter’s arrived and Allan’s pulling me on. Pulling me on so, as it lifts off, half strapped into his seat, half falling out, he can ask the question: “Eva Lynn, would you do me the profound honor of marrying me?”
As I gape at him, his half-stunned face adds, “Your dad just agreed to it.”
I break out laughing.
“Oh, so you call his usual serene smile ‘agreeing to it’?”
Allan smirks.
“Well, it’s certainly not a no. Is that a no?”
I shake my head.
“No, it’s a… a…” I can’t hide my giveaway smile a second longer, but already Allan’s launched into a breathless tirade.
“Before you get all sensible and mention how this is a crazy idea and way early and I’m crazy and all that, know this: you’re completely right and I agree with you.”
His smile is as nervous as a schoolboy’s, but he’s already deep into his rant; I couldn’t get a word in if I wanted to.
“And I thought about leaving this a few more months, even a year. But then, I knew it would eat at me. It would eat at me, and Eva, let’s face it, you read me like a book and would guess something was up within a week. You already noticed I was acting a bit off, didn’t you?”
At my grinning nod, he continues, “So yes, this is rash, and yes, I’m not nearly good enough for you, but Eva, if you ask me if I’ll spend every day of my life trying to be half the man you believe me to be, the answer is hell yes. I know it’s only been a few months that I’ve known you and a month since I’ve been able to call you mine, but never have I been more certain of anything in my life. Never. So, I’m not saying say yes now. Aw, fuck it, okay, I am. What I mean is, I want to get married in a year or so, give us enough time to plan it, do it right.”
Now we’re face-to-face, his eyes misty.
“But if I’m going to be honest, Eva, I knew you were marriage material before I even kissed you.”
Before I can answer, he’s kissing me. His lips and tongue are insistent, eager, clasping and pulling and twining. I feel my own lips and tongue are giving the answer, but when Allan pulls away, he’s looking at me expectantly.
“Well?”
The answer is obvious, all over my face, and yet I say it. I say it loud and clear.
“Yes.”
And then we’re kissing again, and the whole world falls away. We’re soaring, him and I, over New York City, just the two of us, laughing, whooping, thanking God we met each other.
Epilogue: One Year Later
The Brooklyn Botanical Garden is even more beautiful in the light. It’s fitting that we picked here for the wedding, the very place it all changed for us the first time. The second we started brainstorming wedding venues, we both grew silent, then blurted it out at the same time.
“Eva, I swear to God, if you peer out that window for any longer, you’re going to miss the wedding and I’m going to have to go out there instead!”
At the sound of Angel’s gleeful voice, I whack her lightly with my bouquet.
“Careful, or I’ll un-maid of honor you.”
Angel snorts.
“As if. You’d have no one to replace me with.”
I shrug, point my bouquet in the direction of the curled-up mop in the corner that is Popper.
“Popper’s been wanting to join in more since he got in this room.”
Both of us snicker at the vision of Popper as my “maid of honor,” with his eager barks and frantically wagging tail walking down the aisle.
“Be careful, though,” Angel says, tugging me to the door with a mischievous grin, “Gerald would all too well love the opportunity to just kick it with me in here instead of sitting through a loooong borrrring lovey-dovey ceremony of his best friend.”
As we make our way out, I elbow her. Angel isn’t totally wrong. While Gerald, her new boyfriend who also happens to be Allan’s friend, is a loyal friend, he’s totally crazy about Angel, and can hardly keep his hands off her. And she looks stunning in her light blue bridesmaid gown and happy lit-up smile.
When I step into the aisle, however, it’s me everyone’s gaping at. At the end of the aisle, Dad has tears in his eyes. I’m in Mom’s old wedding dress, after all, the one with the exquisite lace top to bottom and jewel-encrusted bodice.
Seeing him there, so well and alert only a year after he was completely mute, the sight brings tears to my eyes too.
As I walk, I see everything in slow-motion, my collected beaming family and friends, Lisa and Allan’s parents the happiest of all, sitting near the front, watching with rapt attention. And then, there at the end, is my Allan. My Mr. Dane, looking as dashing as ever in his dark purple suit with the black tie. He looks handsome as hell, scared shitless.
I’m scared shitless. I’m so scared I can hardly hear what the priest is saying. I only figure out it’s my turn to say something, t
o say my vows, when Allan squeezes my hand.
I take a deep breath, stare into my love’s eyes, and speak.
“Allan, I don’t know what to say, except that I love you more than words can express. I feel like I’ve talked your ear off about how much I’d give up hope on finding an equal, about how much you surprised me from the start. All I can tell you is that this—us—is something like my greatest hope, my best wish, my wildest dream all combined and come true. So, my love, thank you. For believing in my business, believing in me, believing in us, time and again. For being an astounding boyfriend and for what’s to come—our glorious days lived out together.”
Now, Allan’s beaming at me and advancing like he’s going to kiss me. At the last minute, he remembers himself, steps back, then turns to the guests.
“Okay, so I know we said quick vows, but I know this one too well. And I have a thing or two to say myself.
“Eva, from the first second I spoke to you, I knew there was something different about you. And no, it wasn’t just that you were sexy as hell. Although that did help.” The guests laugh. “No, it was how, even at your worst, even when you hardly felt like it, you were honest. And from start to finish, you have been honest with me, even when it’s been scary, especially when it’s been scary. You’re playful, irreverent, fun, and most of all, from the start, you believed in me. I don’t know how to express just what that meant to me, after having nearly everyone I cared about lose faith in me, to have you keep on believing in me. Even when reality made you doubt me, time and again you gave me more chances. Because you saw something in me, something I had yet to see myself. You saw the good in me, the good man who was struggling to emerge amidst all the chaos. And, more than that, in believing in me, you inspired me to believe in myself. You gave me the belief I needed to find my sister and change my reckless ways. When I met you, I had all but given up hope in people, women and men alike. You challenged me and inspired me, and Eva, every day I wake up next to you, I can’t wipe this shit-eating grin off my face. Because it’s like I’ve won the lottery or something. Because, in a way, I have. I’ve found the love of my life, and she feels the same way about me. Things can’t get any better than this.”
