Livvy (46 page)

“I won’t. Does that mean I can go?”

“If you intend to make this work with him,” he says, “you have to come to an agreement together. Just some friendly relationship advice, if you’re expecting you and Jon to last. He deserves to be a part of your decision.”

“Well, of course I’m going to discuss all the details with him.”

“Good.”

“Does that mean I can go?”

“Your mother is still in the dark, remember? We need to fill her in, too. I don’t see any reason why we can’t make the trip to Florianópolis over Spring Break, though. I’ve always wanted to go to Brazil.”

“Jon, too?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds. I stare at him, expecting an argument. “If it will help sell him on the idea of you going, then yes, Jon, too.”

“Thank you, Dad!”

“He will not be staying with you, though. Is that understood?”

“You’re being old-fashioned, Dad. We’re both adults.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Liv.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. That’s my job.”

Dad pulls up to the loft, putting the car in park but leaving it idle in the drive. He puts his hand on mine. “I’ll handle your mother,” he tells me. “I take it Jon’s here?”

“Yeah,” I answer.

“We’ll regroup tomorrow and make arrangements, if they’re needed.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Francisco’s lingering at the door, waiting for me to enter the building. “Good evening, Miss Holland. Perfect timing. Mr. Scott just got in.”

“Where was he?”

“Work,” he answers, accompanying me in the elevator to my apartment.

“Can you get another key made?” I ask him. “You shouldn’t have to let one of us up all the time.”

“It’s no burden, but I will talk to the super and get one to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Francisco.”

“You’re welcome, Livvy. Have a good evening.”

“Thanks,” I answer, shuffling my take-out bag and my purse so I can knock on the door. He answers after a few seconds, dressed in slacks and a dress shirt. “You had to work?” I ask him.

“Yeah, the delivery guy lost some sketches of mine.” I know how intricate his work is, and wonder if he’ll have to go back tomorrow to finish redrawing them.

“You have to redo them?”

“God, no,” he laughs. “They were only copies, but I didn’t have any extras, so I had to make more from the originals. No one ever goes into my workspace, though, so no one could find where I keep them.”

“Was it messy?” I ask.

“Of course not. It’s organized to my strict specifications. I guess no one understands the method to my madness.”

“Go get comfortable,” I suggest. “I brought biscotti and cannoli from La Guli.” Jon grabs his lounge pants and a loose-fitting t-shirt, going into the guest bathroom to change. I find a pair of pajamas, changing in the main bathroom and washing the makeup from my face. When I get out, he’s warming up water for lattes.

“You don’t have to buy my love,” he says as he takes the desserts from the bag, “but I do love you a little more every time you bring me something from La Guli’s. How did I grow up without this?” he jokes. I
do
know the cannoli are his favorite treats, though.

“We were just down the street at Trattoria L’incontro. I couldn’t
not
stop by.”

“How was your dinner?” he asks.

“Great. Oh, have you eaten?”

“I just met Fred and Yasmin for a sandwich. They say hello.”

“Cool.”

“Come here,” he says as he takes my hand and pulls me into him. He kisses me sweetly. “I missed you.”

“I love you,” I tell him, giving him another peck on the lips.

“So... how did it go?”

“I think we’re going to Florianópolis this year for spring break,” I explain. “And you’re invited.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“How many glasses of scotch did it take to get your dad to agree to that?” I smirk at him, picking up the cannoli from his plate and feeding a bite to him. When he’s finished chewing that bite, I kiss a little cream from his top lip.

“Will you come?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” he says cautiously. “Your dad’s really okay with this?”

“He wants you to feel good about this decision.”

“That’s considerate.” We both sit quietly for a minute.

“What if I like the city, and the opportunity? What if my parents are okay with me being there?” I ask apprehensively.

“I’d never stand in your way. And three months really isn’t that long. Last summer flew by.”

“Not for me,” I tell him, remembering how it seemed the pain would never end.

“And I did that,” he says. “I ruined last summer for you. You’ve earned the right to do whatever you want this summer.”

“This isn’t about getting even, Jon. This is purely about doing something that I’ve always wanted to do. This is taking advantage of a phenomenal opportunity. This is something that could benefit us both in the long run. I’ll be working with communities, which is something you like to do, and I’ll be earning money that I can put aside for our future. All my bills will be paid for there.”

“I could work, too,” Jon says, “and save some money for us, as well.”

“You could live here, rent-free, since your student housing runs out this year. That would be one less expense for you.”

“That would help,” he agrees. “If you’d really let me.”

“I want you here,” I assure him. “If I’m here, I want you here. And if I’m not here, the best thing to come home to would be you... living here.”

He raises his eyebrows with a content expression. He nods in agreement and takes my hand in his.

“I think I would miss you,” he says, “but I would hate myself if I was the reason you missed an opportunity like this. This is your dream.”

“You’re a part of that dream, though, Jon. Yes, this is something I’d like to do, but you’re who I want to be with. You know that, right?”

“Of course, baby. I’ve never felt closer to you than I have over the last six months... and we’ve been living two hours apart for most of that time.”

“But we have the weekends.”

“Exactly,” he agrees. “The weekends are what get me through everything else.”

“I wouldn’t be able to come home on the weekends. It’s a thirteen hour flight.”

“South Brazil, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “I mean, maybe I could come home a few times, but I’m not sure. I’m sure I could have guests, if you could get away from work...”

“Yeah but that’s probably not a cheap flight,” he says.

“It’s not, but before you argue, I’ll pay for it for
me
, not
you
.” He laughs a little. “And again, I may not even like the city. Or I may not click with Ariana, who knows?”

“True,” he says as he brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “But you should go into this with an open mind.”

“That’s the same thing I told my dad.
Para ter a mente aberta.”

“Your Portuguese sounds good,” he sighs, still smiling.

“Eu sei,”
I answer in the native language.
“Obrigada.”

“How do you say, ‘you better still want me when you come back?’”

“Eu te amo,”
I answer.

“How do you say ‘I don’t speak Portuguese?’”

“Eu não falo Portugués.”

“How do you say ‘show me you love me?’”

“Me beije,”
I answer, waiting. He shakes his head.
“Bésame,”
I say, knowing he’ll understand my Spanish.

He grins and responds appropriately with a slow kiss, eventually maneuvering me back on the sofa with him lying on top of me. “Can I stay with you over spring break?” he asks, returning the kiss before I have a chance to answer.

I push him away playfully. “Probably not if you intend to do this with me.”

“Of course I intend to do this with you. You’re the woman I love. And you said Jack’s not paying for this trip, right?”

“But–” I try to talk, but succumb to his romantic embrace once more. After another full minute of kissing, he moves away, but covers my mouth loosely.

“But daddy doesn’t get a say,” Jon says. “Wait, this artist does know your boyfriend’s coming, right?”

“Yes. She invited you.” I kiss his cheek, feeling his hands on my waist. His fingers move beneath my top, moving across my skin lightly.

“I know she was going to put my family up in a hotel,” I tell him, “and she mentioned I could stay in the apartment I’d be living in this summer.”

“And me?”

“She never mentioned where you’d stay. I’m sure she assumed you’d be staying with me.”

“And Jack will not allow that,” he says, pushing me back slightly to look into my eyes.

“It’s not up to him, Jon. I’m eighteen. You’ll be twenty in a few weeks. In Brazil, we’re legal to do anything we want. And if that means I want to sleep with you every night we’re there, then damn it, I’m going to sleep with you.”

“You talk big,” he teases me.

“This is a chance to really assert my independence, Jon. I haven’t really had that opportunity. But if I’m going to be living there by myself all summer, they have to accept that I can survive on my own as an adult, doing what adults do.”

“I like this woman,” Jon says with a sly grin, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. “In fact, I love her.”

After classes on Monday, I go to the bookstore and check out some language software, intending to learn as much Portuguese as I possibly can before the summer.

Tim is standing outside his door when I get back to the residence hall.
“Como foram suas aulas hoje, Olivia?”

I stop, trying to figure out what he said. I’d told him about my opportunity, and was happy to learn that his mother was Brazilian and he’d spent many vacations visiting his grandparents there when he was younger. He’s warned me that his Portuguese is rusty, but he’s still saying things I’ve never heard before.

“How... classes today. Oh!” I say, understanding his question. “Great!”

“Me diga em Portugués,”
he says disapprovingly.

“Minhas aulas foram muito bueno!”

“Muito bem,”
he says with a smile. “Keep it up!”

“Thanks!”

Katrina and Rachelle are already at our dorm by the time I come in. I’d gotten home so late last night that they were in bed, asleep, and unable to talk.

“Hey, guys!”

“Good weekend, Liv?”

“Yeah, what about you two?”

“We went to a party Saturday, and shopping yesterday. All in all, a relaxing weekend.”

“I haven’t seen Dimitri around lately,” I say to Rachelle. “Did that just fizzle out?”

“I thought I’d do the right thing by telling him I kissed that guy at the New Year’s party... apparently, he’d prefer ignorance to honesty, I don’t know.”

“He’s mad?”

“I guess. Although when I asked if he was breaking up with me, he wouldn’t answer. It’s like he’s just withholding. He should learn that withholding... you know, affection from me–”

“Just say sex,” Katrina cuts in laughing.

“Well, yes, when he does that, it just makes me think of being with, like, every other guy I see.”

“Rachelle, give him some time. He’ll come around. I could talk to him. I could tell him that guy was just a friend of yours from high school. I witnessed the whole thing, you know? It looked pretty harmless to me.”

“Maybe that will help, I don’t know. Next week’s Valentine’s Day. If he doesn’t come around then, I’m just going to give him an ultimatum. Get over it or move on. I don’t think I deserve to be punished for just doing what’s traditional at midnight on New Year’s Eve at a party he didn’t want to come to anyway.”

“You’re right. But I like him. He’s nice.”

“I know,” she concedes. “I don’t know.”

“Did you figure out your plans?”

“I think so. We’re all going to Florianópolis.”

“Who is?”

“My family... and Jon.”

“You worried for nothing, Liv,” Rachelle adds.

“We’ll see, I guess,” I tell them as I shrug my shoulders, sure that something has to happen that will keep me from going. Too many good things are going my way right now.

Mom and Dad insist on taking Jon out for his birthday, but I know it’s a guise to set some ground rules for our trip to Brazil in two weeks. I’d mentioned it to Jon beforehand, and he’s been practicing being cordial all day.

“Don’t take anything I say tonight seriously, Olivia,” he tells me, holding the door to the restaurant open for me. “My goal tonight is to say whatever makes them happy. My goal in Brazil is to do whatever makes you happy.”