by Vivien Vale
I feel like I’ve got her already, but I’ll go get her again for dinner tonight.
I start humming the old song to myself when I sit down at my desk. Old music’s the type of thing that used to scare me. I tried to stay away from it, wanting to stay young and modern.
But if I want to keep going in this world, I can’t avoid growing old eventually.
It’s something that doesn’t seem as terrifying as it used to be, because now it seems—well, you guessed it—nice.
“Hey, Mr. Smiley Face Songbird,” my secretary teases me from outside the door. “Don’t forget about your nine-thirty!”
I look at my wrist watch. Twenty minutes before I really have to start work today.
I don’t mind—it’s what I need to do.
For myself.
For Rose.
For our future.
I lean back in my chair to enjoy the meditative moments before the daily grind begins.
I try to picture my dinner with Rose tonight. I don’t think we decided on a place...but did we? If we did, I don’t want to disappoint her.
I search through my memory, trying to find a restaurant name somewhere in those beautiful moments in Rose’s bed.
I’m drawing a blank on that, but I do remember our goodbye kiss.
It was a sweet, lingering kiss that gave us both another little spark of excitement—not that there wasn’t already enough of that last night—but it delivered just a little taste of things to come.
Maybe after dinner tonight...but where is dinner tonight?
“Atera!” I say the restaurant name out loud when I remember it.
“It’s not at Atera. It’s in Conference Room A,” my secretary says through the door. She thinks I’m still talking about my nine-thirty.
I notice that my feet are up on my desk. I pull them down and take a deep breath.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” I call back. “I don’t know where my mind is, and I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“I don’t know where you’d be, either, and I don’t want to think about it.”
I laugh at her snarky comments. She soon joins in on the laughter. We share a nice little moment in two different rooms, because why the hell not? It’s just a regular workday, and we’ve all got to get through it.
I stand up at my desk. I may be feeling nice, but I still need to look presentable for my next meeting.
Eons ago, we had this kind of flaky new-agey interior designer come in and, as he put it, Feng Shui-ed our offices. I didn’t even have the energy to argue at the time, and he didn’t do much in my office besides hanging a full-length mirror on the inside of my office door.
It’s coming in handy now as I give my hair a quick comb. I pop a few breath mints and walk out the door.
I get through all my appointments and go over my emails. I don’t even take a lunch break; I just get through it while thinking about dinner tonight.
Or, more specifically, thinking about meeting Rose for dinner tonight.
And now, I’m done with the day’s commitments.
Oh, shit, where did we plan to meet, again? I’m seriously fucking distracted by her.
I sit down, close my eyes, and prop my feet back on the desk.
That nice feeling fills me up again as I think about our kiss and our discussion.
In my mind’s eye, I hear myself say, As soon as you’re done working tomorrow, I will be there at your office. You don’t need to do a thing. Sitting back up, I remember saying one more thing: Well, you might need to tell me when you’re finished.
As if Rose was somehow listening to my memories along with me, my phone buzzes.
Of course, it’s a text from her: I’ll be done in twenty minutes.
If this were any other date, I would think the message was a little business-like and perfunctory.
But it doesn’t bother me even slightly—it’s as nice as everything else Rose does.
I look at my wristwatch. It’s about four-forty.
I’ve made it a point to be early for all my other engagements today, and my most important appointment of the day is coming up in twenty minutes. I’d better get a move on if I want to be there the moment she gets off work.
I jog through the hallway, much to my secretary’s surprise. “Oh. My. God. What?” She squawks before giggling as I break into a run.
Walking into the lobby—at least I’m not jogging anymore—I step in and stand tall, feeling proud of the date I have tonight.
I feel excited, warm, happy, and nice as I look at my wristwatch again. It’s now about five minutes to five, fifteen minutes after Rose’s text.
If she really was getting out of work when she texted, she would be in the lobby by now—not that I’d expect her to wait for me all this time.
I look around the lobby, still smiling like I’ve been all day.
People are looking back at me. Two women and a man, all of them in grey suits, have stopped their conversation just to glare at me.
I look towards the front entrance where the security guard is also staring at me, as is the nearby older executive-looking guy in the meticulously tailored suit holding a coat over his arm.
But I dismiss them. Where is Rose, anyway?
I’m about to look at my wristwatch one more time, although it couldn’t have been a minute since I last checked, when I hear that lovely voice.
“Ready?”
It’s not like I’m not used to people staring at me pretty much everywhere I go. It’s mostly just background noise at this point.
But I still feel a strong sense of relief wash over me from just hearing Rose’s voice, knowing that she’s here, and knowing that we can leave soon. I look up from my wristwatch to find her standing right in front of me. Her nice smile perfectly matches my own.
“You have no idea how ready I am.”
Rose and I kiss briefly before crossing the lobby, leaving the people to gawk in our wake.
Chapter 37
Rose
It feels like we’re pulling our weight equally, both of us pulling each other closer while we walk arm in arm out onto the sidewalk.
I spot Daniel’s car parked conspicuously, right in the middle of the loading zone in front of the building.
“Wait, you can’t park there,” I squawk with amusement.
“That’s what I thought, but then I tried it and found out how easy it is.”
I lean away from Daniel to see if I can spot a ticket on his car’s windshield, or a boot on one of the wheels. Daniel snaps me out of it by unlocking the doors remotely. The headlights flash, and the horn honks, giving me enough of a start to straighten back up.
Daniel laughs a free, easy laugh, and I get a little infectious laughter from him.
It starts out as infectious laughter, anyway, but soon we’re both laughing hard at nothing but our own happiness—and excitement.
Daniel’s done laughing by the time we reach the car, but he still has the goofiest, least self-conscious grin I’ve ever seen on him when he opens the passenger side door for me. I nod politely, which inspires Daniel to laugh again, just for a second.
Sliding into the seat and hearing Daniel shut the door, I feel a little of my cheerfulness drain. I don’t know why I suddenly have the idea that we’re not on the same page, at least not at this very moment.
And I’m surprised how upset that vague notion is making me feel. I begin breathing a little harder while I watch him walk in front of the windshield around to the driver’s side.
“Daniel,” I begin as soon as he opens the door. “May I ask you a question, please?”
“Sure.” Daniel keeps his eyes on me while he lowers himself into the seat and closes the door. “You sound so formal...and don’t forget your seatbelt.”
I can’t say why I love the fact that he mentions the seatbelt so much, but I already feel better. We both fasten our belts, and Daniel’s already started the car and pulled smoothly into the traffic before I remember my qu
estion.
“Oh, what I wanted to ask, was...”
Daniel slows to a stop at a red light, and looks at me attentively.
“...what’s the reason you think we’re having dinner tonight?”
The light turns green, and the taxi behind us starts honking immediately, but Daniel keeps his attentive face right on me.
Although―now he has that big, unapologetic grin again.
“Because we’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?”
“Celebrating our future. Together.”
“Together? As parents?”
“Of course!”
Daniel finally drives through the light, and I feel almost weightless with elation, like the seatbelt’s the only thing holding me in place.
I do know that, but I just needed to hear it again from Daniel.
The whole damn car feels feather-light, as if we’re not even moving, even though I can see that we’re coasting downtown along Varick Street.
I start flushing with excitement—not necessarily that kind of excitement, not this time, but overall excitement with things to come.
I shake my head slowly, unable to believe it.
Daniel turns quickly and effortlessly onto Worth. He looks at me, shaking my head, and I fully expect him to laugh some more.
“It’s hard to describe, but I feel it, too,” he says sincerely. “That’s just one reason I know we’re on the right path.”
If the seatbelt weren’t fastened and if Daniel’s moonroof was open, I would float off into the stratosphere for sure.
The car glides on air to the curb, where a valet is already waiting for us.
“How are doing tonight, sir?” I hear the valet ask while I start opening the door.
Somehow, Daniel transports himself to just outside the passenger door, and he finishes the job of opening the door as I step out onto the street.
I hear animated but hushed talking behind me. People are spotting Daniel, wondering who he’s out with. I ignore it, letting it blend into the background.
If Daniel’s affected by the nearby gossip hounds, he’s not showing it. His eyes stay right on me, and they stay there as we walk into Atera and sit down at our table, and even as Daniel orders the Krug Cuvee Brut.
“We’re celebrating,” Daniel announces to the waiter as his gaze remains focused on me across the table.
The waiter leaves silently to get our champagne. For the first time since we got to the restaurant, Daniel breaks his stare as he glances at my hand resting on the table. He touches the top of my hand lightly with just his fingertips.
“Do you think people are still watching us?” I ask.
“I couldn’t care less.”
“Do you care what they’ll write on Facebook tonight? On the forums?”
“Hey, gossipers, make sure to get this down...” Daniel isn’t yelling, but he’s being loud enough that anyone who’s listening will hear. “This is official, we’re together. Write about that on your goddamn message boards!”
“Official, huh?” I feel myself blushing slightly.
“I just want them to get it right, for once.” Daniel’s back to his conversational tone.
“Since that’s the case...what next?”
I watch Daniel, waiting for his answer. The silence is punctuated by the sound of a champagne cork popping close to my ear.
“What’s next is that we’ll figure it out.”
The waiter fills both champagne flutes.
“I’ll be back with the first course,” he declares before disappearing again.
“You’re saying you’ll figure it out.” My mouth is getting strangely dry, and I take a sip of champagne.
“That’s what I’m saying. There are other doctors, specialists I can talk to. Money’s no object, and there’s no shortage of specialists in this city.”
I nod my head, staring at the bubbles rising to the surface of his champagne.
“You haven’t already been to every specialist on Earth?”
Daniel shrugs and takes the first sip of his drink. “I haven’t had this much motivation before.”
I let out a laugh, I’m not sure why, and I help myself to a hearty swallow of my own drink. “It’s hasn’t even been two months, but, as you say―it’s official.”
Daniel takes another small taste of champagne.
“I think we both want the same things, Rose. To be parents, to be with each other...I know that’s what I want.”
Daniel lets his eyes finish his thought as gazes at me, a gaze that says volumes. I gaze back, hoping that my own look carries the depth of what I’m feeling.
“I’ll be there for you, and I’ll support you, and we’ll get this figured out together,” I tell him, in case my look isn’t clear enough.
The service at Atera isn’t overbearing, but it’s fast. We get through every delicious course, and there’s still some sunlight showing through the window.
“It’s only seven-thirty, or not even,” Daniel says, checking his wristwatch.
“This was kind of an early dinner...”
“That doesn’t mean it has to be an early night.”
I flush with excitement again. This time it is that kind of excitement, partially—but I’m also excited just to spend more time with Daniel. I actually missed him at work today.
After all those tasting courses, and all that champagne, I end up leaning on Daniel while we leave Atera.
“Hey, how much champagne did you have?” I ask when I see the valet bring Daniel’s car up to the curb.
“Two sips—you had the rest.”
Both of us crack up, and we keep laughing all the way back to Daniel’s building.
I’m still leaning on Daniel when we’re in the elevator, but then he starts leaning slightly in my direction, and I start leaning harder on him, and we both just keep fucking laughing.
We’re both standing upright but still laughing gleefully when we walk into the penthouse.
Then our laughter stops.
It doesn’t peter out, but it just ends like someone lifted a needle off a record.
There’s a woman, standing right in the foyer, staring at us. She looks familiar, but the sight of her glaring at us is enough to scare away any memory I might have of her.
She has strawberry blonde hair and kind of a loopy expression and…shit, there’s a child standing right in front of her.
He can’t be more than six at most. The woman’s hands are on the boy’s shoulders, and he looks almost as confused as I am.
Okay, don’t freak out, just figure out what the fuck is going on first.
Where do I even begin? I try opening my mouth to ask a question, like Who are they?, but I can’t.
“Daniel.” The woman’s voice breaks the nervous silence, and the sound of her saying Daniel’s name incites a wave of nausea. “We need to talk.”
The woman walks over to Daniel with one arm over the boy’s shoulders. She’s looking at him with laser focus.
I feel paralyzed. Daniel looks at me.
“Rose…” Daniel says softly.
“Daniel, this is Darren. He’s your son.”
Amazingly, Daniel’s expression doesn’t change, and he’s still looking at me.
The nausea’s gone, and so is every other feeling.
I just feel numb.
The only thing I can feel are fresh tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Daniel, did you hear me?” The woman’s voice sounds like it’s coming through a long tunnel.
Daniel’s arm starts shaking slightly, and I realize it’s because I’m shaking. I hear myself let out a plaintive sob.
“Rose, don’t listen to her. We need to talk about this.”
Daniel’s voice is level and assured. I don’t know how to respond, but it doesn’t matter, because I don’t think I can, anyway.
“Daniel?” The woman’s voice sounds clearer this time, and with some effort, I stop shaking.
“I think you should talk t
o her first,” I hear myself say.
I back away from Daniel, letting his hand fall from my shoulder.
“Rose...”
I walk to the door and open it, hearing Daniel say my name several more times, pleadingly, as I leave.
Chapter 38
Daniel
Rose is walking out the door, but I wait for her to be out of hearing range before spinning around to lash out at Maggie―which I’m sure won’t end well for either party.
I hate the fact that the last picture I have in my mind of Rose from tonight is a face contorted with confusion and eyes that were swelling with tears.
She is right, though.
I need to discuss the pressing issue at hand, the elephant in the room. Maggie and I have some catching up to do, however unconventional and hostile it’s going to be for us.
I need to clear up the bitter resentment that I’m sure Rose is undoubtedly feeling right now, but it begins with a step in the right direction and a battle with Maggie.
Turning back to face her, I shrug, not knowing exactly how to pursue this argument. Maggie stands in front of me with the little boy looking quizzically between the two of us.
Her hands are on her hips, defiant, and neither one of us has even spoken a word yet to each other since Rose left.
“Okay, Maggie,” I sigh with exasperation. I don’t want to get the little boy involved, but she leaves me no choice because he’s standing right there, witnessing everything. “What is this really about?”
Maggie scoffs and pulls her son close to her, reeling him in by the shoulder. “What this is about, Daniel, is the fact that you have a son and you need to show him some respect.”
I glance at the boy named Darren and flash him a pearly white smile. It’s not the kid’s fault he has a crazy mother. I don’t want to inflict any further psychological damage on the poor kid by getting him caught up in a grown-up problem.
He glances at me with furrowed brows. He looks like he wants to trust me, but on the other hand, has a shy quality that’s not allowing him to part ways with his suspicions.
“How old are you, little man?” I attempt to engage him in friendly banter.
My efforts are ended in vain, because Maggie speaks up for him. “He’s five years old,” she jeers. “That’s something I guess you would already know if you took any effort in his life.”
