Can’t. Really low battery. 4got my charger!! Shite reception. On way to see Mum.
Her lips let out a satisfied sigh as she texted back. You two made up?
Yep. Open my prezzie?
Riley glanced under the tree. Inside an opened box was a photo book of their New York memories and a cute ring featuring a real Love Heart candy preserved inside a glittery red resin heart. The candy’s message: Catch Me. Ben had also included a handwritten card: It’s not that you need catching, but if you ever did fall, I’ve got you. xo
Her fingers flew with her answer. I loved it. That ring will look perfect with my red Christmas dress.
Aw, Hope…sounds hot—send photos later?!!
She giggled, hitting send. Will do! Did you like mine? Did you like Mom’s sweater?
She didn’t receive an answer. No further texts arrived that day.
New Year’s Eve, 6:52 P.M. in NYC / 11:52 P.M. in the UK
Phone buzzing, Riley slowed her walk through the frozen slush. Finally! She pulled off her mitten and read Ben’s text.
I miss your lips!! I need a snog at midnight!!! xoxoxoxoxoxox
A chilly breath caught in her throat. Who WILL Ben kiss at midnight? That question had been burning a hole through her heart the past several days, ever since Ben had reunited with his phone charger post-Christmas and told her about Mark and Alex’s New Year’s party. The news had tripped a switch inside her, allowing depression to push its way in, wrapping itself around her palpable loneliness, and no amount of cute dog GIFs from Casey or ugly Christmas sweater photos from Piper could pull her free. Riley hadn’t felt this low since saying goodbye to Ben at the airport. Someone will kiss Ben during Auld Lang Syne—and it won’t be me. She texted back.
I love you, Ben. x
Ben’s FaceTime invite invaded her screen. She accepted it without pause.
“Riley!” In a crush of people, Ben was wearing sparkly ‘Happy New Year’ head-boppers and the purple dress shirt she had bought him for Christmas. “Where are you? It’s dark. You outside?”
He looks so good. Watching him so far away, surrounded by friends felt like a bittersweet punch to the stomach. Riley’s nose began to prickle. Don’t cry in the street. “I’m walking to Mom’s.”
Mark leaned over Ben’s shoulder. “Riley! Happy New Year, darlin’! This one’s really missing you.”
Hearing that made Riley stand a little taller. “Hi Mark. I’m missing him, too.”
Mark slapped Ben on the back and left him to it.
“Ahh, I feel better for seeing you!” Ben only had eyes for Riley. “Things all right, gorgeous?”
They are now. “Yeah. Gonna have a quiet night, watch Times Square on TV.”
“Good! I don’t want you off kissing blokes at midnight in Times Square!” He laughed. “Riles, I’ve got news! They’ve offered me a permanent spot at the market.”
“That’s fantastic!”
“I get a proper sign and everything.” He beamed. “And that’s not all—I’m definitely coming to New York in March for our airport anniversary!”
YES! YES, YES! Oh my God…I’m gonna cry. “Ben!” she squealed. “I really needed to hear that today!”
“Aw, love!” He laid his hand over his heart. “You can meet me at terminal D and we can have a do-over with kisses and Funyuns and street pretzels instead of stolen luggage! Whatcha say, gorgeous—”
“BEN!” A brunette with mischievous brown eyes and a swingy bob lurched into frame, cuddling into him. She was wearing a stunning blue dress; Riley was pretty sure she had coveted the same one in the window of Ted Baker in Soho. A colorful tattoo on her shoulder—a Rubik’s Cube—stole Riley’s attention.
“I need you—now!” The woman demanded. “Love pest by the sausage rolls. Idiot won’t take a bloody hint. Save me!”
Ben looked off screen and turned back to the interloper. “What? Again? Jeez. This is the last time I pretend for you.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder possessively. “Happy now?”
Riley frowned. Who’s she? Is that Lucy, the girl Alex mentioned at Wagamama?
Ben tipped his head toward the woman. “Riley, meet Spencer. She’s a right pain in the arse.”
That’s Spencer? Spencer’s…pretty…and there—with Ben’s arm around her.
“RILEY?!” Spencer waved. “Ben doesn’t shut up about you!”
Good. Back off. Riley mustered a smile. “Hi.”
Ben held the phone closer, cutting Spencer from view. “Riles, I have to play Good Samaritan otherwise I won’t hear the end of it when we get home…”
‘When WE get home…’ Riley’s jaw clenched. Ben’s roommate is pretty. She’s probably seen him in his FCUK pants. Maybe she’s seen him WITHOUT his FCUK pants… “Okay, I’ll…let you go?”
His eyes pleaded. “But I’ll call tomorrow, okay, first thing? I want to start the new year off with you, not a hangover.”
Big Ben’s iconic four-note chimes rang through her phone. Someone must’ve cranked up the London festivities on TV.
“Okay. Love you!” Riley’s words were lost in the tune.
“The countdown’s starting!” Spencer shrieked off camera, her jumping up and down jostling Ben.
“Ten…nine…”
“Riley? You okay?” He leaned in, his expression pinching like the party and Spencer were too much. “It’s too noisy! I love you!”
“…five…”
Riley’s heart felt heavy as she raised her voice. “Happy New Year—LOVE YOU.”
Ben pointed to his ears in frustration and lowered his phone, but FaceTime wasn’t disconnected, and Riley could still see and hear.
Spencer yelled, “Ben, that perv’s coming over…”
“…three…”
“I’m not kissing you, you daft cow.” Ben shook his head and shifted the phone, cutting off Riley’s view.
“…one…”
His phone jerked and Big Ben bonged. “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” burst though Riley’s speaker.
“Ew! Freddie!” Spencer wailed. “You kiss like a fucking fish!”
Hitting disconnect, a relieved smile warmed Riley’s face.
Valentine’s Day 2019, 4:55 P.M. in NYC / 9:55 P.M. in the UK
Red roses and lilies graced her co-workers’ desks, but Riley wasn’t envious one bit. She admired the blue forget-me-nots beside her computer. “My flowers, Ben! They’re perfect, and I’ve eaten half the candy already.” She peeled the plastic off her microwaved lasagna, letting a curl of hot steam escape.
“Good, glad you like ’em, love!” Ben’s image bounced and the background behind him—books, shelves—flew past as he quickened his pace. “The florist over there tried to talk me into roses. I reckon they thought I was a cheap bastard.”
Riley giggled, digging a fork into her hot dinner. “Did my present arrive?”
“Yeah! Equinox Ten—‘Star-drive to maximum power!’” He mimicked the cult TV show’s iconic salute and laughed. “I’ve wanted that box set forever! Cheers, Riles.”
“Did you get my latest addition to the ‘4 Benjamin’ playlist?”
“No, don’t think so. Send it again?” He stared into his phone. “Uh, you’re just eating lunch now?”
“No, I’m staying late—this is early dinner.” She fiddled with her phone, sending him the missing playlist text—“When I Think of You” by Janet Jackson. “I’m going all out on a report for my boss. There are rumors of amazing job postings soon, so…I want to stand out, you know?”
“Right.” He spotted her text and smiled but seemed preoccupied, jogging up some stairs.
“Is everything okay?”
“Uh, fine. I’m…finding a quiet corner. Fourth floor should do it—no one will look for me in Economics.”
“You’re working a late one, too…”
“Yeah, ’til closing.” He ducked into an abandoned alcove of tall bookshelves. “Riles, they told me this afternoon—they’re sending me on a course.” He didn’t look happy.
“Is that…good or bad?”
“Both, I guess. I’ll get paid a bit more afterwards, but I have to make a decision.”
“Oh?”
He lowered his voice. “If I want to get promoted here, I think I’ll have to pack acting in. There’s no way I can do both.”
“Oh! So…how do you feel about that?”
“I love the books and chatting to people—and the steady pay packet.” He shrugged. “Acting-wise, I’ve done nothing since that Lairds one-off…I haven’t even been on an audition.”
“Yeah, but being an actor is like that, right? I guess you have to ask yourself if you’d miss it.”
“Well, I’d miss my acting buddies and how fun it is to be someone else, but the rest—the shit money, zero job security, being told I’m too tall, too skinny, too pale—hell no! My heart’s not in it. I think my talents might lie elsewhere…”
“Like the kitchen? Alex texted me saying she visited the market and you had fawning customers. Ben, you’ve got fans!”
“Wouldn’t say ‘fans’…regulars, maybe.”
“Same thing! I’m so proud of you.” She smiled. “To think you were practicing icing with Mom only seven months ago.”
He tugged the red Waterstones lanyard around his neck and looked away. “Yeah…”
He still looks unsure. “Ben, you know, you don’t have to quit acting, not if you still want to do it. I’m sure you can find a balance—”
“No, it’s not the acting that’s bugging me…” Ben closed his eyes and grimaced, opening them again. “I can’t visit you next month.”
He’s not coming. Ben’s not coming to New York. The hunger gnawing her belly twisted into ice-cold nausea. She abandoned the fork in her lasagna.
“The course is that week, and then I have to be in the store over the St. Paddy’s weekend—I’ll even miss the market.”
Her face fell as she swallowed hard. We’ve missed Christmas together, New Year’s, Valentine’s, and now our airport anniversary. Will four months apart grow to six…ten…a year?
“I’m so sorry.” Ben lowered his head. “I saved enough for my flights and everything—”
He’s heartbroken, too. It’s not his fault. She lightly pressed her lips together, glancing at her ‘Catch Me’ ring sparkling on her finger. “Ben, it’s okay. Really.”
He looked up through his hair. “Riley—”
“The trip wasn’t definite anyway, and…you can’t let this opportunity pass. It wouldn’t look good.” She offered a smile.
“After the course, I’ll get a new job title, few more quid, but I can’t have any proper holiday time, not for the first three months. So, I’ll come over in June—for our real anniversary, yeah??”
Four more months, but what choice do I have? She nodded. “Yeah.”
Sixty-Five
Two and a half weeks later
Fresh from a celebratory afternoon wandering around the MoMA with Riley, Maggie beamed as she dug into her small strawberry cheesecake ‘Blizzard’ in the Staten Island Ferry Terminal’s Dairy Queen. “Six months post-transplant and I finally feel like life’s returning to normal.”
“A year ago, things were so different.” Riley chewed a peanut butter cup from her frozen treat.
“Like night and day. My energy and appetite are back, my new job stars next week—I can’t wait to earn a paycheck again.” Maggie placed her hand over her daughter’s. “And that crowdfunding money—it’s taken away so much worry. I couldn’t be more thankful.”
Riley smiled at her phone, Ben’s most recent ‘4 Riles’ playlist addition front and center: “I Melt With You” by Modern English. Well, job done, Benjamin—I actually like eighties music now.
“Want to try Ben?”
“Yeah. He should be home.” Riley tapped his contact info. “I know he wants to congratulate you!” She propped her phone against a napkin dispenser and scooted over to her mom’s side of the booth. The live FaceTime feed opened to Ben in his bedroom.
“Hey! Working girl!” He laughed. “Staten Island’s loss is New Jersey’s gain! Congrats on the new marketing gig, Maggie. That’s brilliant!”
“Thanks! I’m dreading the switch from jeans and sneakers to nylons and heels, but I’m also grateful for the chance to complain about it!”
“Damn straight! I’m glad my liver’s behaving itself.” He chuckled. “Here’s to our six-month anniversary—I might have a proper celebratory drink tomorrow.”
“You’ve earned it, sweetie,” said Maggie.
“And…” Riley bounced in her seat. “Mom’s cancer-free.”
Ben leaned forward, his smile out of control. “You got the all clear?!”
“Not in so many words, but there’s no sign of any cancer, so they’re calling it a remission. I’ll still have regular checkups, but they seem optimistic I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” Maggie smiled.
“Amazing!” Ben sat back, elated. “I’m two for two—that was my second birthday wish, you being well again.”
“Really?” Riley couldn’t stop grinning.
“Well, it worked, and I’m enjoying each day as it comes.” Laughing, Maggie waved her ice cream teasingly at the phone’s camera.
“Blimey.” Ben licked his lips. “What I wouldn’t give to be tucking into that! What did you get, Riles? Peanut butter something? When you visit, I’ll take you to one of those ‘freakshake’ places.”
“Those loaded milkshakes on your Instagram?”
“Yep, with the brownies, Oreos, pretzels—all stuffed in. Don’t show Piper—she’ll get cavities just looking at them.”
“Oh, we are SO going there on my first day!”
“Yeah?” He chuckled.
“I’m serious.”
“I pity the fool that comes between you and your desserts!”
“Well, step aside, Fagan.” Riley couldn’t hold back, the words racing from her lips. “Work might be sending me over there!”
His eyes widened. “Work? Oh my God, for real? How?”
“You know Elstree Studios, the huge production place outside London?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, the BBC is taking someone from here for a six-month placement. It’s an assistant’s position, like I have here, but the idea is that we’d learn more about the company, cultivate new relationships, and then bring that knowledge back home.”
Ben blew out his cheeks. “Jeez, that’s just…if you got it…”
“I know! So, I’ve been working stupid hours, trying to get noticed. I didn’t say anything earlier because everyone’s applying for it and my chances are slim—I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
Maggie nodded.
“But I’m doing everything I can to be with you, Ben. I even got my passport! It arrived last week, so I’m ready to jet out—if I get it!”
“Oh, Riles!” Ben cleared his throat. “That’s…great. Wow!” He sat back and fidgeted with the strings on his hoodie.
Why is his smile stiff? Isn’t he happy?
“When would you be over?”
“Soon—spring, if it happens. I’ll know this week.”
“That soon, eh? That’s grand! Erm, will they put you up somewhere or…?”
Or? Riley squinted, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. This is when you offer for me to stay with YOU, Ben. “I don’t know all the details yet—”
“I’d love for you to stay here, but Spencer’s flat…it’s so cramped, you know?” Ben looked away, his eyes skimming his room. “I don’t even have a closet. My clothes are crammed in my suitcase…” He shook his head. “You can’t swing a rat-cat in here.” He chuckled nervously. “Uh, I could ask Alex. Maybe you can stay in their spare room? You’d have privacy and a lot more space…”
He wants to pawn me off on his friends…what the fuck? Why doesn’t he want me there with him? Is he not telling me because Mom’s here? “I don’t need tons of space, Ben. You’ve seen where I live—”
“Sweetheart…” Mag
gie’s eyes darted from Ben fidgeting on his bed to Riley’s confused frown. “Why don’t we wait and see if you get it, and then you can figure out all the details?”
Ben’s nod dissolved into a yawn.
Maggie patted her daughter’s arm. “There’s no point asking Alex or doing anything until we know.”
Ben yawned widely again. “Sorry! I’m just…knackered. Two jobs…” He rubbed his eyes. “Riley, I really hope you get it, love.”
You’re not acting like it. Riley stared into her dessert and closed her eyes, hoping her mom—but most of all, Ben—wouldn’t spot the tears of disappointment threatening to dampen her lashes. His loving words from the airport swirled in her head, mocking her.
“When you feel sad, just close your eyes and remember…”
Right now, though, Riley wondered—was Ben forgetting?
Seeking comfort in pajamas and a fuzzy blanket, Riley curled up on Maggie’s foldout couch and settled in for the night. Eyes puffy, she typed out a text to Ben but then deleted it. I’m still too upset. She opened her laptop and dove into work emails. How does one day off trigger an avalanche of messages? She scrolled through, accepting requests for meetings and confirming her boss’s travel itinerary for a TV festival in Banff. As she flagged some emails, a three-word subject line sent her pulse into a sprint.
Elstree Studios Placement
Riley bit her cheek and opened her boss’s message.
From: Nick Balfour
To: Riley Hope
Sent: Monday, March 4 at 3:25 P.M.
Subject: Elstree Studios Placement
Riley,
Human Resources delivered their decision this afternoon regarding the Elstree Studios Placement. I wanted to tell you in person, but since you weren’t in today and all applicants are being notified ASAP, email will have to suffice. As you’re well aware, the timeline for this placement is tight, and Elstree wants the successful applicant settled in London no later than Wednesday, March 20.
Forget butterflies, Riley had the cast of The Birds flapping inside her belly. I’m afraid to look. She took a deep breath and read on.
Until The Last Star Fades Page 39
