In the Wake of Wanting (66 page)

“Sexy? I think it’s quite demure.”

“You’re not seeing it from the back. All I can envision is releasing soft rose petals all over your naked body.”

“Aren’t you tired of that? We do that every night,” she jokes. I give her a kiss as I open the car door for her.

“I’m buying some roses on the way home,” I whisper in her ear as she makes sure the train of her dress has made it into the SUV with her.

After I start the car and begin to put it in reverse, she places her hand on mine. “You look gorgeous and… as attractive as I’ve ever seen you. I am so excited to be your date tonight. Like, I always love being your date… you know that… but… I don’t mind if people take our pictures today. I want them to. I want to remember us like this.”

“It’s fun to get dressed up every now and then, right?”

“It is!”

“Plus, this is going to be an important night for us… talking to the parents. It’s a night we should memorialize.”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re not nervous, are you?” I ask her.

“No way!”

“Me, neither.”

“So, dinner with our immediate families, and then the real party begins. A band? Dancing? I can’t believe you wanted dancing…”

“It’s a chance to see Callen making a fool of himself in person. How is that not on everyone’s wish list?”

“That dance he did for Max was awesome…”

“It was,” I agree. “And I have no doubt Max will get him out on the dance floor tonight. Plus, it’s Damon Littlefield and Will… fronting an orchestra. That doesn’t happen everyday.”

“No, this is going to be a sight to see.”

“It is. And this is something you and I have never done together. I wanted it to be a special night for both of us.”

“Must I keep reminding you that it’s
your
birthday?” She refers to many earlier conversations we’ve had today.

“And I’m turning twenty-one with you right here. How lucky am I?”

At the next stop light, she unfastens her seatbelt so she can lean up to kiss me.

Once we’re at the Manhattan Penthouse on Fifth, valets are ready to take my car as soon as we pull up. Already, word must have gotten out about the occasion since a handful of photographers begin blinding us with flashes as soon as we get out of the vehicle. Taking Coley’s hand in mine, I smile in their direction, slowly following the hosts dressed in crisp tuxedos that hold the doors open for us. Another set of men await us at the elevators.

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Holland.”

“Thank you.”

One of the men steps inside, pushes the P for the penthouse level, and steps outside of the lift just before the doors close. “I’m guessing the rest of my family is here, or else how would the paparazzi know we were coming?”

“We
are
fashionably late,” she tells me.

On the top floor, we amble into the reception area where another man in a tux has the same reaction to Coley that I did when I saw her. “My apologies, miss, but you are stunning in that dress,” he says.

Her cheeks turn a light pink. “Thank you. No apology is necessary. I’m flattered.”

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Holland. I believe all of your dinner guests are already here. Please, follow me.”

I allow Coley to walk in front of me, taking every chance I can get to see her from behind. I cannot get enough of her delicate shoulders and back in that dress.

We’re led into the lounge across the ballroom where the dining table has been set for our parents, siblings, and the two of us. A few presents sit on a table in the far corner, one that I recognize as my mother’s handiwork. I give Mom a kiss on the cheek and thank her for her help with the gift as soon as I walk in.

“It turned out beautiful.”

“It did,” I agree with her. “She’ll love it. Dad?” I say, moving on and shaking his hand before he pulls me into a hug.

“Happy Birthday, Jackson.”

Greetings and birthday wishes continue around the room with Livvy, Jon, Coley’s parents and her brothers before we all finally sit down and place our orders. A waiter goes around pouring champagne into flutes that are strategically placed at the table. I notice one missing from Coley’s place setting.

“I guess you won’t be able to partake in a champagne toast with me, huh?” I whisper in Coley’s ear.

“Not with two law enforcement officers sitting at the table. But I won’t be alone. Joel can’t, either, and they don’t let Nyall drink with his medications.”

“You and I will have one later, then,” I promise her. She nods in accord.

Instead of champagne, Coley and her brothers are given sparkling cider. I feel bad for them, but hold my drink up to begin a toast anyway.

“Jackson, that’s my job,” my father says.

“Not this year, Dad.”

“But I’ve prepared something.”

“So have I… can you save yours for the party?” I ask him.

“I can do that.”

“Okay.” As a few other people pick up their glasses, I remember the length of my speech–and also remember that I need both of my hands to communicate my message to everyone at the table. “We all may want to set these down for a bit.” Livvy takes a swig before placing hers back on the table. “So…” I say and sign together, now pretty fluent in ASL, “this birthday has always been about securing my future, and fortunately for me, my parents did that on the day I was born. Financially, I’m set for life today, and I couldn’t be more grateful to you both. Dad, if it wasn’t for your ingenuity and hard work when you were my age, I wouldn’t be able to pursue what I love today with as much passion and risk that I do. I have a very wide safety net to fall upon, and I hope you both know that I will never take this for granted, nor will I ever be wasteful with what you’ve given to me.

“Thank you for setting such a good example for me in life and in love. I hope I have always made you proud and that I continue to do so.”

“Here, here,” my dad says, lifting his drink. I decide now’s a good time to take a sip, even though I have more to say. We all clink our glasses, and then drink to the gratitude I owe my parents.

“In the spirit of securing futures, I want to be able to do that for someone else. More than a year ago, after a particularly bad night for both Coley and me, we had a discussion about her passion, which we all know is poetry. When I asked her what she wanted to do with her life, she said that she wanted to write. After being the editor of her
poeticles
for a year and a half, and after reading the poetry that comes from somewhere deep within her soul, I see no one better suited to devote her life to writing. I had told Coley on that night that I wanted to be her benefactor and set up a fund for her to do just that.”

“Stop, Trey,” she says, putting her hand on my forearm. “What are you doing?”

“I have a gift to endow.”

“Okay,” she says, laughing, embarrassed. “You don’t need to belt out all the synonyms you know. Everyone here is keenly aware that you’re a writer–nay, the newly-crowned
president and editor-in-chief
of
The Columbia Daily Witness
. You sound silly.”

“The wording was purposeful, laureate, and our families are also
keenly aware
of the reason for it, so it’s only you that looks silly right now.”

“How many times do I have to remind you that it’s
your
birthday?”

“None. I’ve known this day was coming for twenty-one years of my life.” I get up from the table and pick up the familiar looking present that Mom had assembled at my request, bringing it back with me to have it ready. “Now. As I was saying, and as I told Coley that night, I didn’t have the ability to grant her the money she would need until I turned twenty-one. But as you’ve reminded me,” I tell her, now looking directly at her, “that happened today.”

“No,” she whispers with tears in her eyes. I hand her the box and urge her to open it. She looks down and notices that it’s carefully covered in fabric that was created from lines of her own poetry. Mom worked with a fashion designer she knows to have it printed, and then she meticulously assembled and wrapped the box herself. “This is amazing.” Inside, she finds an envelope with the monetary details of the grant that I’ve set up in her name. Her father passes his handkerchief to Nyall, who hands it to Beth, who gives it to Coley. Her eyes are dripping with her tears now.

“You will notice, as promised, there are absolutely no strings attached.”

“Well,” Martin says. “Trey has attached no strings. Your mother and I have a stipulation that we’ve discussed with him… we want you to finish Columbia.”

She looks at me, and I nod my head. “We all would like that, but I made you that promise, and I wouldn’t go back on my word.”

“Of course I’m finishing Columbia, Dad! I love it there. I want that degree.”

“Oh, thank God,” Beth says.

“Cheers to that,” Martin follows up.

“Everyone?” she begins. “Look away.”

“What?” Nyall asks, but the groan he emits notifies me that he’s caught on quickly after she pulls my head to hers and gives me a kiss that rivals the first one we shared in the Rainbow Room. I can only hope everyone took her advice, because I’m not about to stop it from continuing.

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft as she looks deeply into my eyes and touches my nose with hers. “I honestly didn’t even remember that conversation.”

“I’ve never forgotten it. I always intended to honor it.” I swipe at dark makeup that’s running down her face. “Hey, Livvy?” I ask my sister from across the table.

“Yes?”

“Can you help Coley out with her mascara?”

“I’d be happy to,” she says. “Join me in the powder room, goddess?”

“Oh, is it bad?” she asks, self-conscious.

“No,” I assure her quietly. “I’m just on a roll here. I figured I’d keep going.” Her smile is luminous. “Liv knows what we’re up to tonight.”

“Okay.”

I wait until the two women are gone before I go on with my agenda. My parents and Jon are also aware of the conversation I am about to have with her family. Even though I am confident there will be no obstructions, it’s nice to have them here for support. My brother-in-law winks at me before I begin.

“Martin, Beth…” I pause, giving them both eye contact before shifting to her brothers, “Nyall and Joel, Coley and I have been talking a lot about our future… together… and we both think that marriage is pretty much inevitable, somewhere down the line. After graduation, I’m sure. But with her moving in with me last month, we both think it’s time to take a step toward making it more official, so I wanted to let you know that I intend to ask her to marry me soon. She knows it’s something I’m going to do. I just wanted to talk to you first.”

Her mother–not normally the sentimental type–shows a softer side as her shoulders slacken, and her eyes begin to water. The smile on her face is genuine and calms the nerves that I just notice had popped up as my heart begins to race. While Nyall and Joel seem to be equally as happy with the news, Martin’s stoic demeanor hasn’t changed.

“Martin?” I begin, looking directly at him. “Did you have some concerns with that?” I notice my hands are unsteady as I’m signing my question to him.

“Concerns? No.”

“So…” I say, unsure about his tone. “You would approve if I ask for her hand in marriage?”

He grins and nods, then stands up and walks toward me. “That’s what I was waiting for, son.”

“Oh, good God,” I say, shaking his hand when he reaches me. “Thank God.”

“Just promise me you’ll have the wedding close by so that we can all attend.”

“Nyall and Joel will be two of many groomsmen, so we will definitely have it close by.”

Suddenly, Nyall is out of his chair and rushing me. His father stops him, instinctively. “I just want to give him a hug, Dad.”

“Get over here,” I tell him as I hold my arms out.

“Thank you for trusting me.” He has tears in his eyes as he pulls away.

“Like a brother.” I pat him on the back as he heads back to his chair.

My parents look proud as I sit back down. Just as Livvy and Coley return, my dad slips something into my hand underneath the table. I nod, subtly thanking him as I slide it into my coat pocket.

After dinner, we head to the main ballroom where the party is already in full swing as the band plays and about a hundred and fifty guests are either talking over hors d’oeuvres and drinks or dancing. When Damon finishes his song, he stops and instructs the crowd to sing “Happy Birthday” to me. I join him, Will, and the band on stage and let all of my friends laugh at the twenty shades of red my face is turning as a slide show rolls behind us of a ton of embarrassing pictures of my youth. Joel, Max, Callen, Shea, Livvy, Jon, Finn, Coley, Stanley and his girlfriend find their way to the front of the stage. It’s nice to have my closest friends right where I can see them.

“Does the guest of honor have anything he’d like to say?” Damon asks, then hands me the microphone.