Winter Hopes (Seasons of Love) Page 8
“Where are we going?” Lydia asked.
He grinned at her. “Just an idea I had. We’ll see how you like it. I think you might.”
She pressed her lips together to try to repress a full blown smile. It didn’t work.
He slid his arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her closer to lean against him. She felt a rush go through her that reminded her of younger years: a burst of pure adrenaline. He invoked that kind of feeling in her. It felt a bit silly, but mostly wonderful. She tipped her face up to look at him, and he stole a few kisses.
Nestled comfortably against him, Lydia relaxed a bit and looked out the window as the city whirred by.
“You’re trying to figure out where we’re going, aren’t you?” he accused with a grin.
“Of course I am!” She gave him a playful smirk.
“It’s nothing huge,” he warned her. “Just something I thought of… you won’t guess. I’m not worried.” He reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers.
Soon they were passing Central Park. New York City was at its autumnal peak, and the trees were glorious, each diverse one ablaze with grand color. Lydia gazed at the view as they sailed past sections of the park. Sam looked carefully at street signs, telling the driver, “You can pull over here, thank you,” when they got to 79th Street.
As the taxi pulled away from them, he smiled down at her, took her hand firmly in his, and simply said, “Come with me.” She tossed her hobo bag over her other shoulder and followed him with a smile, in content silence.
They strolled into Central Park. Lydia figured they were about mid-park, and although she hadn’t been there in possibly two decades, she felt like she vaguely recognized some things.
“I know how much you like the fall,” Sam said, “so I thought if it was a nice day, we could just walk around, take in some scenery, hang out and talk, just play it by ear. So then the question was: what’s the most beautiful, scenic spot in Manhattan? Where’s the best place to geek out at the foliage?”
“Central Park.” She grinned and nodded approvingly. “Nice idea. Big thumbs up.”
“Whew!” He smiled, but she could sense a bit of genuine relief. She saw it in his eyes; he’d been nervous she wouldn’t like his idea. Touched by the sweetness, she stole a quick kiss. He held her to him and kissed her again before he said, “Come on, let’s go this way.”
They went up a path, farther into the park. Many New Yorkers were taking advantage of the fantastic autumn day by walking, biking, jogging, skating, picnicking. Groups played Frisbee, catch, and soccer on the Great Lawn. The trees were splendid, their varying hues brilliant in the midday sunshine. Sam and Lydia both put on their sunglasses as the sun hit their faces directly, and they slowly made their way around the perimeter of the Great Lawn. Soon Sam was pulling her towards a building Lydia thought she recognized.
“Is that the Delacorte Theater?” she asked.
“Um… yeah. I believe so.”
“I went here once.” She smiled wistfully as she continued, “My grandmother brought me here to see a play. We came to the summer festival, Shakespeare In The Park, when I was eleven. I was fighting with my parents a lot at that point—adolescence had kicked in with a vengeance—and she wanted to give me some space from everyone, have a special Grandma-and-Lydia day. So she brought me into the city, took me out to an early dinner, and then we came here.” She looked up at the theater as Sam led her around it. “I remember… we saw Taming of the Shrew. It was wonderful. I was completely captivated by it. The actors, the costumes, hearing those beautiful words outside under the stars…”
“Sounds like it really made an impression on you,” Sam replied.
“Oh, it did. It was magical. So different from anything I’d ever seen or done. Seeing a fancy grownup play, and outdoors! In the city! And for Grandma to take only me, not bring Jane too… that was so special. I only had my one Grandma—my father’s mother, the original Lydia, died when Jane was one. I was named for her.”
Reflective, Lydia gave another wistful smile. “That was the last time we got to do something like that, just Grandma and me. She passed away about a year after that. Sudden stroke, and she was gone. But that memory… aww, that was such a great day, our day in the city together. I’ll never forget it.”
Sam pulled her closer to smack a kiss on the top of her head. “Sounds absolutely wonderful. A great memory to have of her.”
Lydia suddenly realized where Sam was heading. Before them lay a murky pond and the magnificent Belvedere Castle, one of Central Park’s most beautiful and romantic landmarks. “Ohhh…” She stopped, tugging on Sam’s hand and jerking him to a stop as well. “Hey. Was this your ultimate destination?” she asked, gesturing towards the tall, stone structure. “Or is this a happy fluke?”
He beamed a wide, brilliant smile. “I wanted to bring you to Central Park, to be outside, to see all the foliage and be somewhere scenic. So I went online and looked through some of Central Park’s attractions, and when this popped up, I just knew I had to take you here… I thought, if it was nice enough, we could sit up there, stare down at the park all around us, and talk until dinner time. Just hang out, spend time together. Luckily, the weather cooperated. So what do you think?”
She stared at him for a few seconds before standing on tiptoe, grabbing the lapel of his coat, and pulling his mouth down to hers for a tender kiss. “I love it. You’re wonderful.” Another kiss, a second longer, a touch more passionate. “Thanks for thinking of it. You scored, it’s perfect.”
His arms circled her waist, holding her close as his mouth explored hers. The feel of his lean, firm body against hers as his tongue danced with hers sent a shudder through her. His arms tightened around her in response as he took the kiss deeper. He kissed her until her head started to swim. “Lydia…” His gruff whisper made her smile but pulled back as she sensed his desire. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and ran his knuckles along her cheek as he gazed into her eyes. She stole one more quick kiss before wiggling out of his embrace. They smiled at each other as she took his hand and said, “C’mon, let’s go up.”
They strolled through the grass, up the stone steps of the picturesque castle, taking their time as they made their way to the top. It was an open space, except for a few benches, all of which were occupied. They moved to the wide, flat stone railing, leaning on it with their elbows to look out over the magnificent vista before them: Turtle Pond, the Delacorte Theater, the Great Lawn. They could see the tops of trees, all of the varying shades of scarlet, rust, orange, yellow, and the endless sea of tall buildings beyond.
“What a breathtaking view.” Lydia breathed in with appreciation.
Sam removed his sunglasses, pulled his iPhone out of his coat pocket, and backed away two steps, aiming his camera at her. “Take your shades off and say cheese, please.”
With mock obedience, she took her sunglasses off and smiled at him for the picture.
“Thank you. With all the trees behind you, the bit of skyline…” Sam examined the photo he’d gotten. “Wow. Fantastic. Look.” He held out the phone and showed her the picture.
“I actually don’t hate it,” she said, sounding surprised. “You can keep it.”
He laughed. “Come on! It’s a gorgeous shot. You’re gorgeous.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. She instantly wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. His arms snaked around her waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping inside to search and savor… for a minute, they forgot themselves, lost in each other… until they heard the giggles of young children. They broke apart to see a family across the deck. Two small girls were watching them closely, giggling behind their tiny hands.
“Guess we’d better cool it,” Sam grinned, releasing Lydia.
“Oops.” She laughed, but blushed. “Oh, man.”
“Later,” he whispered in her ear. “To be continued.” His warm breath and the promise in his words sent a delicious rush through her body. H
e took her hand and they went back to leaning on the railing, staring out at the view that lay before them.
“Can I ask you something?” Sam said after a minute.
“Sure.”
“You don’t talk about your parents a lot,” he said slowly, with caution. “You talk about Jane and her kids all the time, you just mentioned your grandmother… but not really your parents. Any particular reason? Or should I mind my business and not ask that?”
“No, it’s fine. We agreed to be open and ask each other anything, remember?”
“Of course I remember,” he said. “That’s why I’m asking. But I'm still going to be polite about it."
She smiled and squeezed his fingers between hers. “Well, I’m not hiding anything about my parents.” She shrugged, a dismissive gesture. “We’re just not close.”
“Okay.”
Lydia pressed her lips together, pulled her sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on again before she added, “I know this is going to sound harsh, and maybe it is, but… I don’t like them very much. I love my parents, but I don’t like them. They’re very, well, selfish people. They do what they want to do, what’s good for them. They come first, always. Everyone else comes second, including their own children and grandchildren. They’re also closed minded on some things, and that irks me. So… that’s it in a nutshell.”
Sam nodded again. “Alright. I didn’t mean to bring up anything upsetting, I was just wondering.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I’m not upset at all. I’m just explaining the situation to you.” Lydia swept her hair back from her face as a breeze lifted the strands. “Even growing up, Jane and I always knew we came second. They, as a unit, came first. And for me, it was one step beyond that, because they favored Jane so obviously. Whatever. Jane was older, prettier, more dynamic, did everything first, got married first, and she married a great guy with a great job—Tyler is an orthopedic surgeon, I think I told you that?”
Sam nodded once more.
“Me? I was quieter. A bookworm. Very few bells and whistles… and then, later on, there was who I chose to marry. My parents never really liked Matt, from the day I brought him home. He's does bookkeeping—steady enough, but no great shakes, at least not to them. Especially not when compared to a surgeon. Plus, we’re Jewish, and Matt isn’t. That was the ultimate deal breaker, especially for my father. Even though Matt and I agreed while we were engaged that we’d raise our kids to be Jewish, my parents were still pissed at me.”
She stared out at the view, remembering. “So, six months after Matt and I got married, they were gone. They left New York. They sold the house and moved down to Boca Raton. Didn’t matter that Jane had young kids, that it would’ve been nice for them to stay here and be involved with their grandchildren. They felt like we were both married, secure, had our own lives, and could be left on our own. They had done their duty, and they wanted to go off and do their own thing. That’s who they are, and what they do. Jane and I have each other, thank God. That’s all we need. Which is good, because that’s really all we’ve got.”
Sam looked at her and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for sharing all that with me.”
Lydia shrugged again. “There are no big secrets, it’s not a big deal. But now you know the story, and I won’t have to go into it again. Done.”
Sam studied her profile as she coolly surveyed the landscape below and beyond. He sensed there was more to the story, plenty she was withholding, but he didn’t need to know it. He knew the basics now, and that was fine. He was glad she’d told him as much as she had.
“Let’s change the subject, then,” he said, and lifted her hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. Her skin was cool and soft. “You’re not cold out here, are you?”
“No, not at all. It’s perfect, actually,” she smiled.
“Yeah, it is,” he smiled back. “We lucked out with this weather.” He noticed a couple slowly rise to their feet, vacating one of the stone benches. “C’mon, quick!” he whispered. He pulled her over to the bench and they sat down hard, claiming it.
“Well done, Forrester,” she praised him.
“Thank you. Now we can really just hang out and relax,” he smiled easily. “So… what else can I ask you? What do you want to ask me?”
“You’re digging for a real get-to-know-me session, aren’t you?” Lydia laughed lightly. She removed her sunglasses again to peer at him. “Haven’t we done plenty of that over the past two weeks, with our almost nightly talks?”
“True. Yes. But,” Sam said, his eyes twinkling, “there are things I didn’t ask you, because I wanted to have eye contact with you when I did.”
She cocked her head sideways, her eyes narrowing. “Like what?”
“Like… more intimate details,” he said carefully. "Past details." He rubbed his jaw, waiting, and watched her.
“You mean… you want to, like, hear my romantic history?” she asked, grasping what he was getting at. “Seriously?”
“Well, look. At our age, it's like… been there, done that. Right? By your mid-thirties, you have a history. You and I, in particular, both definitely have some, uh… hurdles behind us that we’ve already jumped over, or even tripped over, right?” Sam rubbed at his jaw again, then fidgeted with the earpieces of his Ray-Bans. “I’m not trying to pry, or get graphic, or be inappropriate. I just… I’d like some clues about who and what came before, so I have an idea of where you’re coming from. Not just about you and Matt, but some of the broader picture. But only as much or as little as you’re comfortable sharing.”
“I see.” She scrutinized him. “And you’ll tell me the same?”
“Of course. Full disclosure.” The corner of his mouth turned up jauntily. “If you want it.”
Lydia pulled out the small bottle of water she’d stashed in her bag, took a long sip, then held it out to him in offering. He took it with thanks and drank also. She capped the bottle and held it, turning it slowly between her hands as she stared at the trees beyond. Finally she looked into his eyes and said, “What is it you want to know?”
They sat on the bench and talked for hours. The discussion took several varied paths: it started off with trading stories about their dating chronicles, then veered to a couple of stories about their defunct marriages, to an intense discussion about various forms of cancer, to exchanging a few light tales about their college years, to telling each other about their closest friends.
Eventually, the sun lowered enough that it backlit Lydia's copper hair, transforming it into a halo of fire around her face. Sam took out his iPhone and snapped another picture of her, trying to capture the way the golden light had ethereally set her hair ablaze. When he looked at his phone to check the shot he’d gotten, he noticed the time. “Oh my God,” he laughed. “I had no idea—it’s a twenty after five already! We have to go!”
Lydia laughed in mild disbelief and checked her own watch. “Oh wow!” She stood up, stretched out her arms over her head, stretched out her legs. “Ugh, I’m stiff from sitting for so long.”
He stood and stretched also. “Me too. Guess we’re getting old,” he laughed wryly. “But really, we’ve got to get going. I made us a dinner reservation for six o’clock, and we have to get down there.”
“Down there?” she repeated. “Down where?”
“I thought you said you wanted me to surprise you,” he reminded her with a teasing grin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LYDIA AND SAM made their way out of the park, hailed a cab, and were soon on their way downtown. The time change for daylight savings had just occurred the week before, and it was noticeably darker at an earlier hour. The multi-layered sky shimmered in twilight shades of deep blue and indigo; pink and purple tinged strips of clouds glowed in contrast. Settled into the back seat of the taxi, Sam put his arm around Lydia to pull her closer.
“I can’t stand it,” Lydia said. “Give me a hint.”
“Food,” he deadpanned.
“Ugh. Come on
,” she wheedled. “Um… sushi?”
He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Fine. Yes, sushi. And no karaoke, as promised.” He gave her mouth a quick kiss before adding, “You’re relentless.”
“Sometimes,” she said with a grin. Then she pulled her cell phone out of her bag. “I’m going to just check in quickly, okay? On Andy.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.”
She kissed his cheek quickly before dialing her ex-husband’s number.
Matt picked up on the second ring. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Just checking in,” Lydia said.
“You don’t need to check in,” Matt said evenly. “Andy’s fine. We’re fine. We just got back from dinner at McDonald’s, and now I’m going to give him a bath, get him in pjs, and then we’ll watch a little Elmo before bedtime.”
“Okay. What’d you guys do today?” she asked. She watched the scenery outside the window as they passed it by, keeping her gaze locked on it. Sam lifted a lock of her hair with his free hand and lazily twirled it around his finger.
“We spent most of the day at the park,” Matt reported. “The one on Magnolia Boulevard, down by the beach. He had a great time. Got lots of fresh air. He’s good and tired. I am too, actually.”
“Great. Alright. Sounds like a good day.”
“Lydia.” Matt paused, then ventured, “You have to know that he’s fine when he’s with me, and that you don’t need to check on him every few hours. Let go that much, okay? If something bad ever happened, I’d call you right away. Other than that, you don’t need to call to check in. I don’t just mean today, I mean whenever he’s with me. Like, from now on, for the rest of his childhood.”
Lydia pressed her lips together hard, wondering if Sam could feel her body tense as she sat against him. “I’m trying,” she said, her voice low. “Give me time, and I’ll get there. In the meantime, I called. Is that really a big deal?”