Richard looked over at her from the driver’s seat. “Are you ready for your birthday extravaganza?”
She laughed. “I’m ready if you are!”
****
When they arrived at the restaurant, Richard told everyone who would listen that it was Rebecca’s birthday. The hostess, the waiter, and even people at other tables.
“Will you cut it out?” she asked.
“Why? Don’t you like hearing ‘happy birthday’?”
“Of course I do, but – ”
“No buts. Enjoy it.”
At the end of the dinner, their waiter returned and offered Rebecca a choice of free desserts to celebrate. “Take your pick, and I can bring it out with a candle and everything.”
“Will you do something else for me instead?”
“Umm, sure.”
“You see that couple over there in the corner booth?”
The waiter turned to look. “Yes ma’am.”
“Tell them they won a prize as the 500th customer this year, and say their entire meal is on the house. Add their bill to mine.”
“But – ”
Rebecca waived off the server’s objection. “Please just do it, okay?”
He nodded. “Yes ma’am, if you say so.”
After the waiter walked away, Rebecca turned to look at Richard. He was staring at her with wide eyes.
“What the hell was that?”
“What was what?”
“The waiter offers you free dessert for your birthday and you say, ‘no thanks, what I really want is for you to help me secretly pay for dinner for two total strangers’?” Richard twisted in his chair to look over his shoulder. “They are total strangers, right? That’s not your aunt and uncle or something, is it?”
Rebecca smiled. “Yes, they’re strangers. Can’t a girl do something nice without getting the third degree?”
“Not when that girl is you. You never do anything without a reason behind it. Come on: spill.”
Rebecca sighed and leaned back in her chair. “What did you see when you looked at those people?”
“A middle-aged couple having dinner. Why – what did you see?”
“They both have on heavy sweaters rather than layers, they’re both drinking water, they didn’t order an appetizer, and she borrowed his glasses to read the menu.”
“So?”
“So . . . people from the North think that early April weather is warm, even though there’s still snow on the ground. Heavy sweaters tell me they’re either not from here or don’t own a mid-weight jacket for this time of year.
“They’re drinking water,” Rebecca continued, “because it’s free. And they didn’t order an appetizer because they can eat the complimentary bread instead.”
“What about the glasses?” Richard asked.
“Men forget their glasses all the time,” she concluded. “My father was always losing his. Or they don’t want to admit that they need glasses, so they borrow their wives’. Women, on the other hand, rarely lose or forget their glasses. Which tells me that his work insurance only covered his vision, not hers. Or he doesn’t have insurance but he needs glasses for his job, so they bought some for him but couldn’t also afford some for her.” Rebecca paused and a wistful look entered her eyes. “Maybe tonight is their anniversary or a birthday or something, or maybe they’ve been saving up for months to be able to afford a night out at that fancy restaurant they hear people talking about. Except it’s not truly a night out because they’re still on a super tight budget. But now, with their meal paid for, they can enjoy it like they always hoped, and they’ll talk for years to come about that one night at the steakhouse in Hartford.”
Richard grinned and shook his head. “Or, they’re on holiday from Florida and are wearing the only warm clothes they own, they’re drinking water because they’re teetotalers, they didn’t find the appetizer menu all that appetizing, and she left her glasses at home at their Palm Beach mansion.”
Rebecca shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe.” She sighed. “I know you don’t have much experience with poverty, but I grew up in rural Georgia. I know poor and out of place when I see it. Given how fidgety and uncomfortable they look, I highly doubt they’re on vacation from their Florida mansion. But maybe you’re right. If so, perhaps this free dinner will prompt them to buy a meal for some other couple in the future.”
Richard’s grin morphed into a smile, and admiration shone through his eyes. “You, my darling, are a romantic at heart.”
Rebecca put her finger to her lips. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone. They’ll lose all respect for me as a ball-busting businesswoman.”
Richard laughed so hard that people at other tables turned to stare. “The hopeless romantic ball-busting businesswoman,” he said in a lower volume. “A true woman of the ‘80s.”
Rebecca grinned and raised her glass. “To the women of the ‘80s.”
“To you,” Richard replied.
TWENTY-SIX
The concert was as spectacular – and as loud – as Rebecca hoped, and her ears were still ringing as she and Richard exited the arena and walked toward the parking lot. Richard had borrowed their friend Brian’s car for the trip, a 1982 Chevrolet Cavalier. The car used to be gold, but snowy New England winters had faded the two-door coup into a color that best resembled urine. Brian called it ‘the pee car’, but Richard and Rebecca were just happy to not have to take a train to the concert.
When they reached the pee car, they heard a familiar voice from a few vehicles down.
“Arrington! What’s up, man?”
Looking over, they saw Joe and his girlfriend.
“Hey, mate,” Richard replied, walking over to shake hands. “I didn’t know you were coming to the concert.”
“I know. We could’ve ridden together.”
“Hi, I’m Sherry,” the girlfriend said, reaching out her hand toward Rebecca.
“Hi, so nice to meet you. Joe talks about you all the time. I’m Rebecca.”
“How long have you two been together?” Sherry asked.
“What? Oh, no. We’re not dating. We’re just friends.”
Richard knew it was true, but hearing Rebecca say the words still made his heart drop. He should have been used to the statement by now – Rebecca had been responding that same way for almost two years. Whenever anyone tries to label us a couple, he thought, she always denies it. Richard should’ve been used to the rejection, but it hurt just as much – if not more – every time it happened.
Sherry shrugged her shoulders, unaware of the loaded nature of her question. “I don’t know about you guys, but I thought the concert was amazing. We better get back, though, honey,” she told Joe. “I have an early class tomorrow.”
“Right. She’s a senior at Radcliffe,” Joe said in explanation. “I have morning classes too. I guess I’ll see you guys then?”
“Yep,” Richard nodded. “Safe travels.”
As they watched the other couple walk back to their car, Rebecca pulled her coat closer around her shoulders. Even though it was early April and spring in many parts of the country, there was still snow on the ground in Connecticut.
She breathed in the cold New England air and exhaled slowly, sending a cloud of heat into the night sky. Richard smiled, and he knew it was because he felt a kinship with the breath of air that she released. He was also powerless in her grasp, drawn in and warmed through by the deepest parts of her heart and soul. His smile soon disappeared, though, knowing that this magical moment would end and Rebecca would release him too, just as she had the air. Back into the cold world and forever changed by her presence.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The final few weeks of business school flew by for Richard. He was glad to be so busy, though, because it kept him from thinking about the possibility of leaving Rebecca. Between class projects, packing, and making arrangements in London, Richard barely had time to hang out with Rebecca, let alone brood over their potential separation. We don’t have to be separate
d, though, he thought. Not if she says yes.
Richard’s mom and sister made the trip from England for his graduation. Lord Dublinshire stayed home. He blamed it on work, but Richard knew better. He’s never attended any of my school events. Why start now?
Despite his father’s absence, Richard was determined to make the most of graduation week. On the day before the ceremony, he took his mom and sister on the Freedom Trail walk, complete with a stop at Union Oyster House – one of the oldest restaurants in the entire United States. Richard’s mother thought the place was ‘garish and positively common’, but Sarah loved it.
“It’s fascinating to think that two hundred years ago people were in these same spots and planning to go to war with our country.”
“If by fascinating you mean treasonous,” their mother said. “I can’t see how you lived here for two years, Richard. At least you’ll be back in England in a matter of days.” She paused. “I’m tired. I’m going back to the hotel.”
After Lady Dublinshire left, Richard and Sarah walked toward the waterfront until they found an open bar.
“Do Americans not believe in day drinking?” Sarah quipped as they sat down in a booth.
“They do.” Richard looked at his watch. “Maybe not at 2:00pm on a Wednesday.”
Sarah laughed, then looked at Richard in concern. “What is going on with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re fidgeting. It looks like you’ve gnawed off all your fingernails. And you barely touched your lunch at the Oyster House.”
Richard let out a deep breath.
“Are you on something?” his sister pressed.
“No. Although part of me wishes I were . . . if only to calm my nerves.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box.
“That’s not what I think it is, is it?”
Richard flipped it open and placed it on the table.
“You’re going to propose?!”
“Shhhhh!” Richard grabbed the ring and put it back in his pocket.
“Oh my God, Richard. I mean, oh my God!”
“I know. I’m so fucking nervous.”
“Have you two talked about it? Do you have any idea what she’s going to say?”
“Yes, hopefully.”
Sarah shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant. We’ve been close a couple times. She usually brushes it off as not serious, or I’ll see the fear in her eyes and I’ll change the subject. But I have to ask her, Sarah. I have to know. If I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
At precisely 8:00am the next day, a man in a gray morning suit and black top hat took the stage in Tercentenary Theatre on Harvard University’s main campus. Carrying a long black staff and sporting a gold badge on his left chest, he put his hands on his hips and surveyed the large crowd assembled for graduation. After a few seconds, the man pounded the dais with his staff and, in a booming Boston accent, said:
“As the highhhh sheriff of Middlesex County, I declahh that the meeting will be in orrrrrdaahhhhhhh!”
Rebecca giggled at the graduation tradition, and Richard couldn’t help but smile as well.
The dramatic opening of ceremonies was just the beginning. After the sheriff, Harvard’s president gave a speech, followed by several invited guest speakers. Once the university-wide part was over, each school returned to its own campus for the actual conferral of degrees.
By the time Rebecca held her diploma in her hand at three o’clock that afternoon, she was exhausted. While standing in place underneath a tree on the campus quad, Rebecca smiled as her parents and brothers took turns taking pictures with her. When they were all finished, Rebecca’s cheeks ached from smiling for so long. Her parents asked her if she wanted to grab a late lunch, but she declined.
“I’m sorry. I’m exhausted. I’m going to go back to my room and take a nap before my dinner tonight.”
“Who are you meeting again?” her mother asked.
“Emily,” Rebecca lied. “I told you about her.” She knew her mother would never understand her relationship with Richard, and Emily had already gotten on a plane to Paris for her graduation trip. There’s no way Mother will figure it out.
****
Five hours and a bottle of champagne later, Richard and Rebecca stumbled their way back to campus after having dinner in Central Square. As they walked down the sidewalk, the pit in Richard’s stomach grew larger and larger by the minute. He had never been this nervous before in his entire life. Likely because the rest of my life depends on her answer, he thought.
When they reached Memorial Drive, the pair turned north toward Weeks Bridge. Halfway through Riverbend Park, Richard stopped walking and drew in a deep breath.
“Marry me.”
Rebecca’s eyes danced with happiness as she skipped down the dirt path that wove along the river. “What?” she asked, unable to hear over the sound of the wind whipping off the water and the alcohol buzzing in her ears.
“Marry me,” Richard repeated, smiling as he said it. He smiled because he was happy, because he graduated from Harvard Business School that day, because he was slightly drunk, and because he hoped that the woman he loved was seconds away from agreeing to become his wife.
Rebecca stopped skipping and turned to face Richard, three yards ahead of him on the path.
“Marry you?” she asked in her Southern drawl.
Richard’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled even wider. Say yes. Say yes. Come on beautiful, say yes.
Instead of yes, Rebecca laughed.
“Marry you? Are you crazy? No, you’re not crazy,” she said, shaking her finger and swaying as she walked toward him. “You’re drunk. Like me. Mother always said to not make any big life decisions while you’re drunk.”
“I made this decision two years ago. On the day I met you.”
“Yeah right.”
“I did.” Richard’s face turned serious and he started walking toward Rebecca, the gap between them closing as fast as their hearts were racing. “I knew I loved you the first moment I saw you.”
Richard reached out and pulled Rebecca close, their bodies flush against each other. The movement caught Rebecca off guard and she gasped, but she didn’t pull away.
It’s now or never, Richard thought. He ran his fingers through her hair, leaned down, and kissed her.
Their lips brushed softly at first – both tentative and unsure. Then Richard pulled Rebecca even tighter and kissed her harder, two years of love and lust exploding in one moment along the riverside. Much to Richard’s surprise – and delight – Rebecca’s passion matched his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her fingers up through his hair, pulling him down toward her.
Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes that seemed like hours. The world around them disappeared as Richard finally learned the taste of Rebecca’s lips and the feel of her curves against his body. A body that grew hotter and more passionate with every passing breath.
“I love you,” he whispered between kisses. “Marry me.”
Richard regretted speaking as soon as he said the words. The magic of the moment was broken, and Rebecca stepped away from him. She pulled her sweater tight around her shoulders as she walked further back and shook her head from side to side.
“We can’t.”
“Why not? I lov – ”
“Don’t say it. Stop saying it. You can’t love me.”
“Yes, I can,” he argued. “I do!”
“We’re from two different worlds, Richard. It wouldn’t work.”
“It would if we wanted it to.”
Rebecca’s eyes welled with tears. She was torn between the feelings in her heart and the truth in her head. “Be real. You honestly see us living happily ever after?”
“When I look at you, I see my future. I see a lazy Saturday morning, waking up with you in my arms. The two of us making love. Slowly. Passionately.
Right before we drift off to sleep again, I see the door pop open and our kids run in, jumping on the bed and asking when they can go outside and play.”
“Don’t forget the dog,” Rebecca said, daring to dream along with him.
“Right. The dog jumped on the bed too and plopped down in the middle of all of us.”
Rebecca smiled, bit her lower lip, and reached out to take hold of Richard’s hand.
Shit, he thought, as a hundred-pound anvil landed hard on his chest. She’s going to say no.
A single tear spilled over the edge of Rebecca’s eye and rolled down her cheek.
“I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.” She turned around and took off down the dirt path, stumbling at first before pausing to take off her heels. Once barefoot, Rebecca ran away as fast as she could. When she reached the center of Weeks Bridge, she stopped and turned to see Richard still standing where she left him. Her face and blouse were now soaked wet with tears.
“I love you too,” she whispered, watching as he stood in painful disbelief. “I love you too much to let you ruin your life for me.”
The conversation with Richard’s mom flashed in Rebecca’s mind.
“You’re not good enough for him, my dear. My son is meant for more. You would only hold him back.”
TWENTY-NINE
Richard wandered around Harvard Square for several hours after Rebecca left – finally taking the time to read the plaques and admire the statues dedicated to men who fought to break away from his country. He was standing on the side of Massachusetts Avenue, near Harvard Law School, looking down at gold-plated horseshoes in the cobblestone sidewalk. A sign nearby said this was the path taken by Paul Revere’s partner, William Dawes, on the infamous night ride to warn that the British were coming to Boston.
Every Star in the Sky Page 7
