“I am in love with you, Nuts Girl,” he said, smiling.
I started pinching myself furiously.
“Hey, Crazy, you’re freaking me out a little. Stop doing that.” He laughed, grasping my wrists and holding them firmly at my sides.
“I’m trying to make myself wake up. There’s no way in hell this is actually happening. It’s too good!” I exclaimed, laughing.
“If you were dreaming, would you be feeling this?” he asked, kissing up my neck toward my ear.
“Mmm, I’ve had dreams like this, yes,” I said, closing my eyes.
“Would you be feeling this?” he asked, sucking my earlobe between his teeth and nibbling. I twisted in his arms, my skin breaking out in goose-bumps. He loved when my body reacted to his touch.
“Mmm, this is starting to feel very familiar,” I added, throwing my arms back around his neck and pulling him closer.
“And if you were dreaming, would we be on our way to get frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity?” he whispered in my ear.
At that, my eyes sprang open, and I shook my head to clear it.
“Thanks for refocusing me, Sweet Nuts. Let’s hit it,” I said, walking us with a purpose up the stairs and out of the building.
“That’s my girl.” He laughed at me as I hailed a cab quickly and pushed him into it. He knew to never get in the way of Grace and her sweets.
***
After a lovely lunch followed by some even lovelier frozen hot chocolate, we headed over to the park. I came running here at least three times a week, and although it was a very touristy place to visit, it was a great park. People who’d lived in Manhattan for years used it daily. It was really like everyone’s backyard, in a town where no one had a backyard.
It was a gorgeous fall day, and with the leaves crunching underfoot and the smell of autumn in the air, it was easy to forget we weren’t out in the country. We spent the afternoon there, just walking and talking and holding hands. I’d actually relented today and let him wear his stupid ball cap for two reasons: One, it was chilly. Two, the cap made it harder for him to be recognized. And I did have to admit, it drew my attention to his face, which I never tired of looking at.
We were relaxed and happy, walking off the enormous amount of chocolate we had consumed. At one point he laughed at me, calling my attention to the fact that during our pig-out I’d apparently been humming “White Christmas” while I slurped. He swore I had a penchant for singing Christmas carols under my breath. I didn’t actually remember this, my attention having been totally focused on the concoction in front of me. A frozen hot chocolate of this magnitude was a true indulgence for me—a real splurge I was already calculating how I’d work off—and I didn’t miss a drop.
Now I was totally focused on the equally yummy Hamilton in front of me. We sat on a bench at the Plaza end of the park, holding hands and people-watching. There were several kids playing on the edge of the little pond, and we laughed as we watched them kick around a soccer ball. Once it came flying over to where we were sitting, and Jack jumped up to kick it back to them. The kids shouted their thanks, and he came back to sit next to me, smiling as he smoothed my hair back from my face. I was still thinking about meeting his family, father especially. My mind kept bumping into it no matter how I tried to not think about it. He watched me closely, and I smiled.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.
“Thought you Brits used shillings and sixpence and whatnot,” I said.
“Do all Americans get their knowledge of British culture from Mary Poppins?”
“Yes, although I also got a bit from Dickens.”
“Ah, yes. Another reliable source for current culture.”
He laughed as I kissed him on the nose. We snuggled together for another moment.
“Nice deflection, Grace, but what are you thinking about?” he pressed.
“Honestly?”
“Yes, please,” he encouraged, hugging me tighter.
“Meeting your family. It makes me a little nervous,” I replied.
“Why nervous?”
“I dunno. Take your pick. I’m considerably older than you, you’re about to be this huge star, not to mention the fact that I’m a Yank…” I trailed off, the words I’d just said hanging in the air. Jack was laughing though.
“A Yank? Seriously, where do you come up with this stuff? Mary Poppins again?”
“No, this time European Vacation. But seriously, Jack. What if your dad doesn’t like me?”
“European Vacation,” he snorted, then looked back at the group of kids playing. “My dad loves any girl who can cook. He always said that was one of the reasons he fell in love with my mum—her cooking. She used to make this shepherd’s pie. Oh, it was the best, she would—” he started, then stopped, looking sad all of a sudden. I took his hands again and wrapped him more firmly around my waist.
“You were sixteen, right? Sixteen when she passed away?” I asked quietly. He nodded.
“I bet she’d be proud of you right now. Look at everything you’ve accomplished at such a young age!” I said, scratching his scalp the way I knew he liked. He leaned into my hand, but was still quiet. We soaked up the fresh air and the sounds of the city.
“Grace, how come you never talk about your parents?” he asked, breaking me out of my spell.
“My what? My parents?”
“Yes, you never mention them. Come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever said a word about them. Where are they?” he asked, still leaning into my hand, which had stilled.
“My mom died when I was a freshman in college—boating accident. It happened fast. I didn’t even make it home from school before she was gone. She was only forty-one,” I answered, closing my eyes and remembering how she used to make me scrambled eggs and toast every morning, without fail. All these years and her breakfasts were still the first thing that came to mind when I thought about her. That and her perfume.
“Grace, I’m so sorry,” he said, clutching me closer.
“I’m sorry too—for you. What a pair we are.” I laughed hollowly.
“And your dad? How did he take it?”
“You’d have to ask him, if you can find him. I haven’t spoken to him since I was in third grade. He left my mom and me high and dry. Never looked back—no letters, no phone calls, nothing,” I said, my voice empty. My skin prickled a bit. I never talked about this stuff. It made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t do uncomfortable.
“He just left?”
“Yes, he just left. Can we talk about something else? My dad was a deadbeat. No need to discuss,” I said, just as the soccer ball came our way again. This time I rose and kicked it back, my foot connecting angrily and sailing it over the lot of them. A few of them cheered my kicking ability, and I curtsied. I sat down next to him on the bench again, and we continued to watch.
“Cute kids,” he said, watching them play.
“Yes, cute,” I replied, watching them as well.
“Do you want kids, Grace?” he asked, turning to look at me.
“What, right now? Today?” I teased, standing up and depositing myself on his lap. He made room for me, tucking me in with his arms around me and his chin on my shoulder.
“Obviously not today, Crazy. Although later on today I’ll be glad to demonstrate how babies are made.” He laughed, cuddling me to him. “But really, do you want kids someday?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, I think if I wanted them, I’d have thought more seriously about it by now,” I said. “What about you? I mean, not now, but do you want kids someday?” I asked, shuffling around a bit so I was looking down at him.
“Hmm, I don’t think so either. I don’t particularly care for children—at least not in the sense that I want any of my own,” he said, kissing my fingertips, each one in turn, lavishing attention on my pinkies in particular.