Meet Me on Love Lane

by Nina Bocci

  In my periphery, I saw Henry turn toward me. “I found out that someone was doing something to— Well, I guess you could say they were trying to help me.”

  I turned, leaning on my side and resting my head on my hand. “Well, that’s not a bad thing. It was a friend? That was trying to help, I mean?”

  He nodded. “My friends, our friends, are the best, but sometimes—and I’m sure you know this—their brains and hearts don’t communicate.”

  “Naturally,” I replied.

  Henry smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “They think they’re doing something that will be helpful when in reality they’re messing with things they shouldn’t. People’s lives and emotions aren’t something to toy with.”

  “Henry, this sounds serious.”

  “It is.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, reaching out with my free hand and placing it on his.

  “Later.”

  He looked down at my hand on his and grinned. I watched the dimple deepen on his right cheek. Henry licked his bottom lip absently, pulling the plump flesh between his teeth for just a second.

  Swallowing thickly, I wondered again what it would be like to kiss him. Here in public, surrounded by everyone and everything that I had grown to love. As if reading my mind, his head lowered, but a loud pop in the sky drew our gaze upward as the fireworks started.

  His skin was warm when he took my hand in his. All around us, people were paying attention to the explosions above us, but I couldn’t look away from Henry.

  It was as if the crowd had melted away and it was just the two of us on a blanket in the middle of a park. Alone together on a warm summer’s night.

  Slowly, Henry leaned down. I licked my lips, drawing his eyes to them.

  I wish I wore a better bra. Do I have perfume on? How bad is my hair?

  With a single searing press of his lips, the crowd surrounding us oohed, aahed, and clapped excitedly.

  For the fireworks.

  * * *

  THE FIREWORKS, I think at least, were fantastic. I couldn’t tell you what the finale was, nor did I care. I didn’t remember saying good night to a tipsy Emma and Cooper, who stumbled away singing patriotic songs. Or remember Parker finding a crew of people to go have a beer with at Casey’s.

  Henry excused himself earlier to run to the restroom and still hadn’t come back. I was still sitting on the blanket wondering why Nick, the only person left from our party, looked like he was about to throw up.

  “Henry wasn’t sending the letters,” he blurted out, wringing his hands nervously.

  “I know,” I said absently, wondering where Henry went to and why Nick was doing this now. “I thought it was Max.”

  “They weren’t from Max, either,” he said, looking more nervous by the second.

  “Nick, what are you saying?” I asked, a sinking feeling burning in my stomach.

  “I sent them,” he admitted, and held up his hands quickly. “Before you get mad. They weren’t from me. I like you, but not like that,” he rambled, keeping his hands up like I was going to strike him. “I promise I only did it for Henry.”

  For Henry?

  “Wait, what? He asked you to send them?” I was so confused. “He said they weren’t from him. Repeatedly.”

  He shook his head. “They weren’t.”

  “I haven’t even been drinking that much, and yet, I have no idea what the hell is going on. In the plainest of words, explain.”

  Nick began pacing. “I mean, he didn’t know about it. I sent them on my own, from him to help nudge him along with you.

  “I knew he was writing to you as a kid, and when you came back and had no memories, I thought maybe this would help. I figured if I made the letters sound like Henry, you’d think they were from him. So I found his books from the summer classes and took sections from them. Things he had bookmarked and highlighted. I figured it might help and you guys could put all the bullshit aside and just work it out but—”

  “You didn’t know that I didn’t get the letters all those years ago,” I said, my head falling into my hands. I rubbed my temples, trying to will away the headache that was forming.

  “Correct. Once he told me about that after you guys, you know”—he blushed—“I stopped. I mean I wrote a bunch up, but I told him I wouldn’t send any more since it would be super inappropriate. I felt like such an asshole. I didn’t know it would bring up so many hard feelings for him. I just thought it would help. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I really am. I didn’t really think it through or that anyone would get hurt.”

  “Nick, I don’t know what to say,” I replied honestly, looking for a description of what I was feeling. “I’m not mad. I don’t know what I am, but I know it’s not mad.”

  He looked relieved. “Thank God. I didn’t want you to get pissed and hit me in the nuts like you did Henry.”

  It earned a much-needed laugh. “That was an accident!”

  “I know, I just wanted you to smile. To help you remember why you and Henry were so special together. Don’t be mad at him. He’s super pissed at me because of it, and I feel bad that I muddied the waters with you guys. I didn’t mean to make it complicated, and I didn’t think that you’d assume it was Max. That was an unfortunate error on my part. I just knew—”

  I held up my hand to stop him. “Promise me you won’t pull a crazy stunt like this again, okay?” I said, thinking back to all the letters and how it never made sense with the timing that it was Henry or Max. This explained it.

  “Deal. So, still friends?” he asked with his signature grin.

  How could I stay mad at him when he had good intentions? I smiled back. “Still friends.”

  “I’m going to go meet some people at HLBC. Want to come?”

  I shook my head. “I’m going to wait here for Henry to come back. We have to talk, too.”

  Nick gave me a quick hug before jogging away.

  When Henry didn’t return, I wondered if he’d left for the night, but I knew in my heart he didn’t. We had to talk, and he knew it. He probably got sidetracked. I got up and threw my blanket over my arm. I collected the rest of my things and headed toward the park’s parking area. It was mostly empty, a few cars lingering with people packing their cars with all their bags and coolers.

  This. This is where I’d kill for an Uber.

  Pulling the bag up higher onto my shoulder, I began to walk. It wasn’t as if there weren’t a dozen people I could call.

  Turning onto Main Street, I slowed my pace. The night was perfect. Stars dotted the black sky. Locals and visitors milled about even though the shops were all closed. I sat on the bench in front of Late Bloomers. I still couldn’t bring myself to call it my shop. I wanted to, but the words felt foreign on my tongue.

  Looking into the darkened shop window, I thought about my mom sitting on this bench. Waiting for my dad. A small Charlotte was running around with other children. I willed the memories to come and they did. Nothing looked quite the same, but the memories were still there. All of them were helping to anchor me here where I belonged.

  When I stood, debating whether to throw the bag into the shop to grab it tomorrow, I felt the energy around me shift.

  “I didn’t even need to turn to know that it was you.”

  “Charlotte.”

  “I was hoping you’d find me.”

  “You didn’t wait,” he said. “I got tied up, I’m sorry. People are chatty when they’re drunk.” He laughed.

  “It’s okay. I had a long talk with Nick.”

  “You talked to Nick?” he asked. He stood a good distance from me.

  Nodding, I turned. “He explained the error of his ways. I’m not mad. I’m confused and have to process it, but I’m not mad. I can see why he did what he did. It’s sweet if you only focus on the good parts.”

  He, too, looked relieved. “As soon as I found out what he was doing, I made him promise to stop. He was going through my books from the course and finding passa
ges to send. Admittedly, I was impressed with what he chose from those couple that I read.”

  “He may not be the most experienced Cyrano, but I can appreciate that he wanted what was best for you,” I said, putting my arm around his waist.

  “If I asked you to come with me somewhere, would you come?”

  Without a doubt. “Yes,” I said, as he led me toward his Jeep that he had parked right outside the center of the square.

  We drove, just shy of the outskirts of town—a spot that looked familiar, but I knew that I hadn’t been there since I had been home.

  “It’s a bit of a walk,” he explained, helping me out of the Jeep.

  “I don’t mind.”

  It wasn’t long before we hit railroad tracks. “Is this part of that rail-biking thing? I haven’t done that yet.”

  “No, these are still operational,” he explained, helping me across.

  “You’re not going to ask where I’m taking you?” he said, and instead of an answer, I squeezed his hand and followed.

  A few moments later, I did finally answer, sort of. “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” I said, looking around at what amounted to a ton of trees, wildflowers, and empty tracks.

  “Try me,” he said, leaning against a pole.

  I paced slow and steady steps around the scattered boulders that lined the tracks. “This is tugging at a memory, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Which is insane, because why would I remember anything out here?”

  He smiled, looking down briefly at his shoes. The moon was high above us, and when he looked up, the stars lit up Henry’s face, making him look younger than he was. His big blue eyes didn’t have the slight wrinkles at the sides. His hair was longer, curlier than it was now, and I realized that I was seeing a Henry from years ago.

  “Best friends,” I breathed, watching his face transform into wonder.

  “What did you say?” he asked, taking a step toward me.

  I pointed, just above his head. “The sign.”

  Walking past him, I climbed up onto the rock and reached out, touching the faded, chipped sticker with my finger. “You can’t read it anymore, but it said ‘Best Friends.’ Right?”

  He nodded, coming to meet me at the boulder. “Our initials were written, too, but they faded a long time ago.”

  “We were going to run away. That was the plan. We knew I was leaving, and you were going to come with me. But why?”

  Henry didn’t say anything. After a moment, he took my hand, holding it gently between his. “Even though we were young, I knew that I would have followed you anywhere. Even if that meant running away at ten. Or following you back to New York twenty-plus years later.”

  “What are you saying, Henry?” I breathed, slipping my hand free to cup his face.

  He turned his head, kissing my palm lightly. “After you left the first time, I was heartbroken. I didn’t know it then, but facing the notion that you were leaving here, and me, again, I recognized that the pain I felt then was a broken heart. Charlotte, I can teach from anywhere. Who knows, maybe a high school in New York would want a small-town English teacher? It’s worth a shot. Or I stay here and visit a couple of times a week. I can stay there in the summer. We can do whatever it takes to make it work. I can’t imagine my life without you again. I can’t.”

  “Henry, I—” I began, pausing when he started kissing from my palm, to the inside of my wrist, to kissing each of my fingertips.

  “You were saying?” he said, smiling when he saw my mouth open and close with nothing more than a squeak coming out.

  “That I’m staying,” I said, just before launching myself at him.

  “You are?” he said, pulling me into a hug. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I can’t, either. I didn’t think it would work. I don’t know that it will, but I’m willing to give it a shot. I have a thousand things to work through. Where to live. How to keep working with the shop being owned by Lucille. Eventually I’d like to buy it, but that’s a lot of money.”

  I rambled until he cut me off with his lips firm against mine. “We’ll work it out. Not just you and I but everyone. Together.”

  “Together.”

  EPILOGUE

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  The temperature was cooling off, and I felt guilty not grabbing his coat from the house before I stopped at the school during dismissal. Three o’clock at a high school was like watching a stampede. The kids couldn’t wait to escape. I knew the feeling as I was eager for the clock to strike three all day myself.

  I was slowly learning that fall in Hope Lake was decidedly different from fall in New York. Not just the temperature but the feeling of the season all around. Deep in the valley, Hope Lake had the benefit of watching the colors transform from varied shades of green to splashes of oranges, golds, crimsons, and a color I could only describe as pure fire. It lit up the woods surrounding the house in the most magical way. When the wind blew, it looked like a wave of fire dancing through the trees.

  What wasn’t great about fall was that Henry was back in school mode. It was an interesting turn of events, though, seeing him dressed in sweaters and khakis instead of jeans and shorts. He looked damn good in a buttoned-down shirt, ready to mold the minds of Hope Lake.

  It also meant trying to plan surprises for him was extra difficult because his schedule was the pits. October brought additional conflicts with his football coaching gig, and stealing him for an afternoon away was a challenge. I needed to enlist Nick’s help.

  “What’s in the box?” Henry whined for the third time in five minutes. “Just give me a hint,” he begged, shaking the box in his hands. I had picked him up from school, blindfolded him immediately, and handed him the box that I had been driving around with for two days.

  “Stop, stop. You’re like a toddler. You’re going to break it. There’s your hint. It’s fragile!” I shouted, holding my hands over his on the box.

  It wasn’t actually breakable. It was wrapped in Bubble Wrap, but he didn’t need to know that. The box was also totally unnecessary, but I wanted to throw him off.

  He saw the box on the foyer table before we left for work and he nagged me via text message. All. Day. Long.

  “Stop fidgeting with the blindfold. I swear I’m going to have to tie your hands up, too.”

  Henry stopped dead in his tracks, the crunching leaves kicking up around his worn brown boots. “Why’d you stop?”

  It was hard enough navigating the damn trail on a good day. Leading my blindfolded boyfriend made it that much harder.

  “Nothing, I just had an idea for later with this blindfold.” He smiled in that cute yet sexy way that still drove me crazy. “That is, if you don’t get us killed out here in the wilderness.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake. You can tell where I drove us to. We’re practically in someone’s backyard. That’s hardly the wilderness.”

  I just needed to get us to our spot. And while it wasn’t exactly the same as that fateful day that we were going to run away together when we were ten, it was still just ours.

  At least for a little while longer.

  “Okay, are you ready?” I asked, reaching up to tug at the blindfold.

  He nodded, and I pushed the thin fabric up and over his head.

  “I had a feeling you were bringing us here,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. “Why the secrecy, though? We’ve been here a dozen times since you moved back.”

  I pointed to the sheet that was draped over a sign. It sat beside the rock we used to sit on. Just below the old rail sign that still had the faded BEST FRIENDS sticker on it.

  “So I had this thought months ago, and I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off.”

  “I wish you told me, I would have said you can pull anything off,” he said sweetly. He transferred the box to one hand and rested it on his hip; the other was reaching out for me.

  “You’re honestly the sweetest.”

  “The surprise is under the sheet?” he said giddily,
and a memory of Henry riding a pony at my sixth birthday sent a burst of love through me.

  “Do the honors, sir.”

  I stepped aside and tried not to laugh at the way he lumbered across the deep crush of leaves toward the sign.

  He didn’t rip it off right away as I thought he would. It was more of a slow-motion reveal as he slid it off and rolled the sheet into a ball. He stepped back a few paces and stared at the COMING SOON sign.

  It was designed to look as close to the original development sign as I could remember. When they had first announced that the Love Lane Community would be built and that our spot might go away, we had been devastated. We were ten, though, and really didn’t grasp the scope of the project, or how we would have been affected.

  “This was a team effort. Truly, I could not have done this without our friends and with the help of the city council.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “City council? Charlotte, what did you do?” he asked; this time the nervousness melted away and was replaced with excitement.

  “With a nearly unanimous vote, Hope Lake received three cityscape grants from Pennsylvania to build a couple of very specific things. One of which will be right here.

  “Lovegood’s Park will be built here, in our spot, so that the kids of Hope Lake and the Love Lane development have somewhere fun and safe to play. They’re fencing out the wooded area, as far as animals go, but it’ll still be open, airy, and, above all, fun.”

  He didn’t say anything until I walked up behind him and slid my arms around his waist.

  “Charlotte, this is incredible. You did this—I can’t believe how amazing this is. You’re unbelievable,” he praised, dropping the box into the leaves absently.

  “Oh, I forgot. You can open that now,” I said, leaning up to kiss him. “Good surprise?”

  “The best, honestly.”

  He tore through the box, then the second box inside, and then finally he pulled out the thin manila envelope that contained his surprise in all of this. Sure, the park was part of it, but it was more the sentimentality of it. The functionality of it was the real key to all of this.