Winter Hopes (Seasons of Love) Page 7
Talk soon.
Lydia
Sam saw she’d attached a few pictures and clicked on the first one to open it. A broad smile instantly popped onto his face at the sight of Lydia and another woman on their knees, with two cute little boys in costumes between them. The caption on the attachment read, “Jane, Ethan, Andy, and me”. He knew Jane was her sister, and that Ethan was Jane’s younger son. Lydia talked about Jane and her family often. Sam liked being able to put faces with the names.
Jane was as pretty as Lydia, but had a distinctly different look; she was more slender, had a more angular face, and long brown hair, not reddish like Lydia’s. But Jane had the same exact eyes as her younger sister, the same shape and long lashes, the shade of golden brown that seemed to glow and reminded Sam of expensive brandy. Lydia’s expressive, beautiful eyes had captivated him from their first meeting. He studied the picture, taking in the happy expression on Lydia’s face. Warmth touched his heart with soft fingers.
The second picture was of Lydia, Jane, a man that Sam assumed was Jane’s husband, since he stood next to her with his arm around her waist. Four children were lined up in front of them, all in costumes, three boys and a girl. They were all outside, in front of an attractive brick house and trees that were multicolored with autumn glory. “Andy, me, and the Aronson Family” the caption read.
In the third picture, Lydia held her son’s hand as the two of them walked down a tree-lined suburban street, looking at each other and laughing. Whoever caught that moment got a great shot, Sam thought with approval.
The last picture was of Lydia alone; she stood under a tree, in her orange sweater and jeans, smiling demurely at the camera with one eyebrow arched, and holding a large yellow leaf to her chest. Sam felt his insides warm and a smile etch deeply onto his face. It was a reminder of the day they’d met, when he’d caught a leaf just like that one as it blew towards them in the garden. He recalled the wary yet amused look on Lydia’s face as he’d held it out to her, an offering…
He picked up his cell phone and hit speed dial, still smiling. Lydia picked up on the third ring, and before she could say anything beyond a hello, Sam said, “I love these pictures. Especially the last one, the one with the leaf. You know why.”
Lydia laughed softly. “That leaf fell down right on my head! It made me think of you, of course. So I asked Jane to take that picture so I could send it to you.”
“That’s pretty cool. I love it. I’m going to print this picture out, if you don’t mind.”
“Seriously?” she asked.
“Yeah, seriously. You look beautiful.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes lingering on the photo. “I love this shot. The look on your face, your hair flowing over your shoulders, the colors, the leaf—everything about it.”
“Well, thanks,” she said, sounding self-conscious. “I’m glad you like it… that you like all the pictures. I’d hoped you would.”
“Your son is really adorable,” Sam said. “Except for the blue eyes, he looks a lot like you.”
“That’s the rumor,” she joked lightly. "The blue eyes are from his father."
“Okay. Woody costume, huh? Very cute.”
“Thank you,” Lydia said. “Yeah, he was super cute. He had so much fun, I was so happy for him. This was the first year he really got that it was Halloween, understood what was going on, you know? The kids all had a ball.”
“You have a nice family there,” Sam noted. “Looks like you all had a good time.”
“Yeah, it was okay, considering,” Lydia said.
“Considering what?” Sam asked.
“Huh? Oh.” Lydia paused, the awkward pause of someone who’d slipped. “Um… well, guess who actually took that picture of my whole family?”
“Uh… a neighbor?” Sam guessed.
“I wish,” Lydia quipped. “No. My ex-husband. Matt came trick or treating with us. He called me the night before and asked if he could come. I was hoping he wouldn’t show up, but there he was at Jane’s door, right on time.”
“Ah. I see.” Sam rubbed his jaw and asked, “How’d that go?”
“Actually, not as bad as I thought it would. He wasn’t his usual sullen self, and he tried to be nice to everyone, even my sister. Andy was thrilled to have both of his parents there. What can I say? It was a glimpse of our future, I guess… having to deal with each other for Andy’s sake. We got through it.”
“Well, I’m glad it went smoothly, then,” Sam said. Lydia didn’t usually talk about Matt with him. Sam was a bit surprised she’d brought up any of it, but was glad she did. He took it as a sign that she was starting to feel more comfortable with him.
“Yeah. It was okay.” She cleared her throat delicately. “And, uh… he asked if he could take Andy for sleepovers once a month. I said we could try it. Starting next weekend.”
“Next weekend?” Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Oh really?”
“Yeah. He’ll pick Andy up at ten on Saturday morning, and he’s not bringing him home until six on Sunday night.”
“Clever woman,” Sam said approvingly. “Now you can, ohhh, I don’t know, go into the city on Saturday and not have to worry about rushing home, really have the day to yourself… I like the way you think, lady.”
Lydia released a shy laugh.
“I guess we should start talking about our actual plan for Saturday, then,” Sam said, getting up from his chair. He began to pace around his living room, as he usually did when talking on the phone. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” she said. “Did you have anything specific in mind?”
“A few things,” Sam replied. “You’re coming into the city at twelve, right?”
“That’s my plan.”
“Okay, great. So…” Sam stopped at his window, looked out, and took an inner deep breath. “Would it be horribly forward of me to ask you to pack an overnight bag?” he asked gently.
Her voice was soft and sweet as she answered, “No. Not at all. I was hoping you’d suggest something like that.”
The corners of Sam’s mouth curved up. “Fantastic. We, uh… we’re on the same page, then?”
“Yes,” she said, quietly but firmly. “We are.”
He smiled, feeling elation and a twinge of lust soar through him. Yesss. But he continued casually, “Okay, great. So, I think you mentioned you'd take the train into the city?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to meet you at the station?”
“You don’t have to, that’s not necessary… but on the other hand, I don’t really want to carry a big bag around with me all day.”
“Right. Hmm. Okay, then how about you hop a cab and come to my hotel? I’ll be staying midtown.” Sam started pacing again. “I’ll meet you in the lobby. We can leave your bag with the concierge and take off from there. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a good plan. Which hotel are you staying at?” Lydia went to get a pen and paper, and wrote down the information Sam gave her. “Okay. So figure I’ll get there by twelve-thirty, at the latest.”
“I’ll be in the lobby as of noon, just in case you get there earlier than you thought you would,” he assured her. “Then, we can get a light lunch, and hang out all afternoon.”
“Anything in particular you’d like to do?” she asked.
“Oh, several things…” The delicious thought of undressing her sprang into his mind. “But we’ll play it by ear, see what the weather does, just see how it goes.” Something occurred to him and he added, “Is there something specific that you’d like to do?”
“No,” she said. “If you have ideas, you can surprise me. That’d be fun.”
He smiled broadly. “You got it.”
“Great.”
“Later on, I’d like to take you out for dinner. How about sushi, do you like it?”
“I love it,” she enthused. “As long as it’s not one of those sushi karaoke places. No karaoke. Promise me.”
“You’ve never gotten
drunk during a sushi dinner and done drunken karaoke after?” Sam asked teasingly. “C’mon, it’s fun! Talk about an icebreaker.”
She laughed. “I will gladly get drunk during dinner with you,” she said. “But karaoke? No way. The thought of getting up and singing in front of people makes me cringe from the inside out. I don’t like to be the center of attention, everyone looking at me.”
“Ah. Right. I remember.” Sam flashed back quickly to the wedding weekend, where on the first night, he’d swooped in at the bar to get Lydia away from a drunken, overzealous admirer. It had almost turned into a brawl, and Lydia had been mortified that everyone there was watching them, watching her. She’d all but ran out of the lounge. “Alright, regular sushi joint, no problem. I promise. I’ll find a good one online and make a reservation.”
“Sounds like you have the day mapped out,” Lydia said. “So. Meet you at the hotel, have lunch, go play, have dinner… and then what?” Her deep voice dropped a bit lower, playful yet unmistakably suggestive.
Sam felt his libido jump to life, felt the lust course through him. “I’m sure we’ll think of something. Hell, I’ve been thinking of things every day.” He liked flirting with her. “But I shouldn’t go into them over the phone. Don't want to get you all hot and bothered when I'm not there to do something about it. I’d rather just show you.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” she admitted. She said it so softly, he almost thought he hadn’t heard her correctly. But he had. He stopped his pacing, stopped short in the middle of his living room, and felt… something. Something he couldn’t name, but something compelling that pulled at his heart, mind, and body.
“Me too, Lydia,” he said, equally quiet, equally intense. “Me too.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LYDIA FIDGETED WITH the cord of her iPod as she stared out the train window. She was more excited than she could remember being about anything in a long time. Her insides were churning with adrenaline and anxiety, yet at the same time soaring with delight and anticipation.
Sections of Queens whizzed by outside in a blur as she sat back and tried to keep calm. She nudged her black duffel bag to wedge it more securely between her feet on the floor, nervously running her fingers through her hair for about the eighty-sixth time. She pushed the buttons on her iPod until she got to her Jack Johnson selections. Listening to Jack always helped her relax, chill out, feel better. When the song started, she took a deep breath, then another, closed her eyes, and willed herself to try to settle down.
She thought about the day before. When Sam had landed at JFK Airport, he’d texted her right away: The eagle has landed! Headed into NYC. Will text you later. She’d been at school, and had checked her phone in between groups of students. She continued to do so throughout the day, and Sam had kept her informed—and smiling—with a flurry of texts.
At the hotel. It’s nice. Wish you were here. Is it tomorrow yet?
Headed into meetings. Yawn. Text you when I’m free.
On a break btwn mtgs. Can’t stop thinking about you. Very distracting…
On her ride home, headed to Jane’s to pick Andy up, Sam had texted her yet again: Have to do dinner w/work peeps. Not sure how late it’ll go. Will call if not too late, will text if it is.
At the next red light, she’d quickly texted him back. Don’t care how late it is, call me anyway. Want to hear your voice. Have fun!
He’d answered her almost immediately. Yes ma’am. Will call. :)
He’d called her at 10:45 p.m., as her eyelids were beginning to get heavy. She could hear the noise of a crowded restaurant in the background. He'd explained that he was still out with his co-workers, would probably be out until midnight, and didn’t want to call her that late and risk waking her and Andy up. “But I promised I’d call, so I just wanted to say good night. And I wanted to hear your voice too.”
“Aww. Good night,” she’d said, suppressing a yawn. “Go have fun.”
“They’re a decent bunch of folks,” Sam had said, “but I’d much rather be with you. Damn work, getting in the way. I can’t stand knowing you’re only an hour away from here. I just want to see you already. I’m getting antsy, I can’t focus—I feel like a kid the night before Christmas.”
“Me too,” she’d admitted, smiling to herself.
And now here she was, on the train, heading into Manhattan to see him.
She suddenly wondered how she should greet Sam when she saw him. Handshake? Hug? It was a strange situation. This was someone she’d been all but naked with already, and had spoken to almost every day since, but she didn’t know what the etiquette was for actually seeing him again—technically, for their first real date. The thought of that made her chuckle to herself.
She wondered what he had planned for their day together. Then, for the millionth time, she wondered how spending the night with him would go. She knew what would ultimately happen—what they both wanted to happen—but it would be interesting to see how they got there. She tried not to overthink that part, knowing she’d only freak herself out.
The train pulled into Penn Station at ten till noon. Lydia slung her duffel bag over her left shoulder, her pocketbook over her right, and made her way through the crowds to the ladies’ room for a last minute touchup. She examined herself in the mirror. Underneath her chocolate brown corduroy coat, she wore one of her favorite tops. The brown silk blouse was flowy and long, with a V-neck that dipped low but not too deep. She felt good in her favorite, most flattering pair of jeans. As she stepped, she silently applauded her decision to wear her broken in but still attractive brown leather boots, with a low heel made for walking.
She powdered her face, touched up her lip liner, dabbed the tiniest amount of perfume behind her ears, and combed her hair. One last look. She knew she looked good, she even felt pretty… but would Sam think so? She had to admit she cared more than she wanted to.
She made her way out of the bathroom, through the crowds again, and up to Seventh Avenue to hail a cab. The line for taxis in front of Madison Square Garden was only about ten people long, and from experience she knew it would move quickly. As she took her place at the end of the line, she looked around and couldn’t help but smile. She’d always loved New York City. The energy here was a palpable thing.
She glanced up at one of the gazillion lit signs on a nearby building: it was 12:01 p.m. and the temperature was fifty-nine degrees. The air was cool but not cold, how she liked it best, and she breathed it in deeply. She could smell the burnt deliciousness of a nearby pretzel vendor and fumes from the cars that clogged the streets. The scents, mixed with the sounds of cars rushing and honking and the chatter of people as they hurried along the sidewalks, all bombarded her. Quintessential Manhattan, she thought as she got on the taxi line on Seventh Avenue. The line was moving pretty quickly; she didn’t have to wait long before it was her turn.
She smiled at the driver as she slid into the back seat with her bags. “Fifty-third and Sixth, please.”
Digging through her brown leather bag, she found her sunglasses and the mints she’d remembered to toss in. She put on her sunglasses, then popped a red and white striped peppermint into her mouth as she looked out the window. It was a gorgeous autumn day. The pure blue skies were bright with sunshine, and the streets were packed, teeming with life. Lydia picked up on the unique, invigorating vibe she’d only felt in Manhattan and had never felt anywhere else. Excited energy hummed through her veins, and she tapped her hands on her knees in an impatient rhythm as the taxi made its way through the crowded streets.
She arrived at the hotel in under ten minutes. Her heart started a slow, heavy pounding as she walked through the grand main doors of the hotel. Heat and excitement flooded her insides.
She took off her sunglasses and slid them into her coat pocket as she crossed the marble floor. Her eyes swept the majestic lobby, searching. Across the wide space, Sam rose from an armchair, smiling at her. Their eyes locked, a glowing smile that matched his burst across her fea
tures, and she headed towards him.
She looked Sam over as she approached him, attempting to be discreet in her appraisal. Navy pea coat over a slate blue sweater and jeans. His dark, wavy hair was a bit shorter than she'd remembered, perhaps cut since she'd seen him last. His warm, dark eyes were fastened intently on her, and there was that amazing smile. My oh my, she thought. Hello, gorgeous. She stopped two steps in front of him and looked up, unable to keep her own smile from widening as she said simply, “You look familiar.”
“So do you.” He reached out and lightly slid the strap of her duffel bag from her shoulder. He placed it on the floor beside his feet and turned back to her with an expression of purpose. She watched his eyes roam over her, taking her in fully, drinking her in. The magnetic pull was absolutely there, just as it had been that first weekend they’d met, genuine and strong. No awkwardness between them, as she’d worried there might be. She felt completely comfortable despite the thrill and anticipation, and could see that he did too.
He very gently touched her cheek, and the corner of his mouth curved up again in that alluring half smile she’d recalled so many times since they’d parted. He cupped her face in both hands and lowered his head, softly pressing his lips to hers. Both surprised and delighted, her response was immediate, visceral. She reached up to touch him as he kissed her, her hands fluttering at the back of his neck. He lingered sweetly on her lips, kissing her twice more before pulling away to look at her again.
“Hi,” he said, his voice a bit husky as he smiled luminously. She had forgotten the way his smile affected her, an actual physical reaction. Open, radiant… something about it just captivated her. When Sam smiled at her like that, it made her feel almost giddy, and warmth spread from her head to her toes.
“Hi,” she murmured back. She bit down on her lip, almost shyly, and smiled too.
His thumb caressed her cheek once more before he pulled away, cleared his throat, and reached down for her bag. “Let’s get this day started. Shall we?”
They deposited her duffel bag safely with the concierge, then left the hotel. Earlier that day, when he’d gone out for his daily morning run, Sam had passed a small, appealing bistro two blocks over. He brought Lydia there for lunch. They nestled into a cozy corner table and spent an hour and a half talking, eating, and laughing. Afterwards, Sam hailed a cab for them and asked the driver to take them uptown.