Poughkeepsie (4 page)

“A cat! This one has orange in the shape of a cat,” Livia nearly shouted.

Blake bit his lip as she discovered the sweet secret in every leaf. The stones came next—some had unusual colors and some had a miraculous little stream of crystals dividing them in half. The last two were plain gray.

Livia looked puzzled and whispered, “I have no idea why these are special.”

Blake dared to touch her face. “They’re the exact color of your eyes.”

Livia covered his hand with her own and moved it down to her mouth. She put a sweet kiss in the center of his palm.
His beautiful hands went through all this trouble for me.

Blake’s eyes flared with desire, making them look greener.

Livia had an unbidden thought of the last time Chris had touched her. He’d twirled her in front of his buddies. “
Hey, her face ain’t much, but her ass is slammin
’.” Chris had pled “joking around” when she confronted him later, but the whole scene left Livia feeling gloomy.

“It’s getting late, Livia. I think I should walk you back to your car,” Blake said.

He made no motion to remove his hand. It felt soft and cool on her mouth. Livia felt a rush of panic as she let go of his hand to check her vibrating cell phone.

“I put it on vibrate so I wouldn’t have to talk to Chris.”

She’d missed five calls from her father. Livia groaned as the phone lit up again in her hand.

“Dad’s calling.” She pressed the send button. “I’m fine, Dad,” she said by way of greeting. “I know, I’m sorry. I ran into a friend at the train station and we got to talking. I’m getting into my car right now.” She sent Blake a panicked glance.

He pulled her by the hand in the direction of her car and did the perfect impression of a dinging open-car-door noise. Livia smiled over her father’s worried, angry ranting. She’d been with Blake for over an hour.
It felt like minutes.

Blake took her keys and opened her car door again. Livia promised her father she’d see him soon and disconnected their call. She couldn’t help but notice how brisk the night had gotten. Concern must have shown on her face.

As if reading her mind, Blake made a quiet plea. “Please don’t think of me that way. Let me be the guy at the train station.”

“You’re not the guy at the train station. You’re my Blake.”

Livia gave the Escort a bit of gas as the engine turned over.

She watched as Blake silently mouthed,
my Blake.

When she glanced in the rearview mirror, he was standing in the middle of the road. Her red taillights blazed over his skin. He looked like he was on fire.

3

Serendipitous Rendezvous

L
IVIA’S
F
ATHER
B
EGAN
H
ER
evening with the first of two conversations she didn’t feel like having. He spent an ungodly amount of time expressing his disdain for vibrating phones, specifically Livia’s, which had delayed their contact at the train station.

Then Livia finally talked to Chris. She started by delivering a small white lie about a rundown battery to explain her latest refusal to answer her cell phone.

“Hey, Livia. You had me scared shitless. I thought I was going to have to run all around Manhattan looking for you.”

Chris’s concern seemed unusual. He hadn’t made any effort past his phone to sustain their relationship in weeks. She covered her lips with her hand and remembered Blake’s soft touch.
Betrayal.

Livia prided herself on loyalty, and her heart wasn’t feeling loyal to Chris.

“My grandma had a mild stroke last night.” Chris’s voice cracked on the word “stroke.”

Livia groaned internally.
This
was the one time Chris needed her in all the years they’d been dating?

“Chris, I’m so sorry. I know how much you love her.”

Everyone loved Chris’s Grandma. She insisted on being called Mrs. Grandma, even by people she’d just met.

“What can I do to help?” Livia asked.

Chris hemmed and hawed for a few minutes before he finally got around to his request. “Well, she comes home tomorrow night, and I’d really love for her to have a nice meal. My mom will be cleaning at Grandma’s, but her cooking isn’t exactly a special treat.”

Livia agreed with Chris there. His mother implemented “The Magic Pot”—a plug-in electric fry pan—and an alarming selection of ingredients far too often for anyone else’s tastes. They decided to meet at Mrs. Grandma’s at six o’clock to make dinner. Then, as if the medical incident had burst the dam of his memories, Chris proceeded to regale Livia with all his favorite stories about his grandmother. It was kind of sweet at first, but then Livia realized the explanations were becoming more and more about him and less about Mrs. Grandma. Her eyes were heavy long before he decided it was time to stop talking.

The moment Livia’s eyes opened the next morning, her brain said,
So little train time
, and she sprang into action. She’d wanted to arrive even earlier this morning to make up for the quick exit she’d have to make this evening, but after staying up late listening to Chris, she’d overslept.

Livia had twenty minutes to wait for her train when she arrived at the station, but she still ran all the way to the platform. It was another cloudless day, so Blake was predictably in his self-imposed shadow cave.

He was sitting this time and kept his head tilted down as he peered up at her. It looked just like an image from a fashion magazine. Blake was so handsome—Livia couldn’t believe the other women on the platform weren’t taking cell phone pictures of him.

He’s still invisible.

This time Livia had packed a small picnic blanket. She quickly spread it out and opened the cooler for Blake.

“Good morning, Livia,” he said, looking at her oddly.

“Sorry! Hi. Good morning, Blake.” She was so rushed she forgot the simple greeting.

“You look tired. Did you sleep well?” Blake ignored his sandwich.

“No, I didn’t. I was on the phone with Chris most of last night.” Livia was busy fixing Blake’s napkin, but when she glanced again at his face she saw such hurt there.

“His grandma had a mild stroke. I won’t be able to stay long this evening. I’ve got to make her welcome-home-from-the-hospital dinner.” She motioned to his still-hot breakfast.

“Livia, you’re too kind. I’ll take this breakfast as a token of our friendship—thank you—but do you ever do anything just for yourself?” Blake lifted the sandwich and waited for her answer.

“Talking to you.” She watched him go motionless as her filter yet again refused to engage. “I do that because I’m addicted to the feeling it gives me.”

Blake put the sandwich down and watched her like she was a bomb with a lit fuse.

“See, right there? Telling you that was just for me. I should consider other people’s feelings,” Livia lamented.

Blake smiled at her, finally. “Have you ever seen a shooting star, Livia?”

She nodded, perplexed at the change in conversation.

“It’s very beautiful, right?” He nodded with her this time. “It makes you wonder—is that shooting star just a happy accident or has the universe had it planned for a thousand years?” He tilted his face to the sky, his eyes tracking an imaginary star as it screamed to earth. He looked back to her. “Either way, you can’t stop it. You can beg it to slow down or you can just enjoy the show.”

“Am I the star in this story or you?”

Blake wrinkled his nose and chuckled. “Was that a bad analogy? I meant
we’re
the star, Livia. Us. This.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Us being in the same atmosphere is either a great cosmic catastrophe or the most serendipitous
rendezvous
.” Blake pronounced the French word like a closeted foreign language teacher.

The pull toward him came from her center. Her eyes never left his face as she moved to her hands and knees. She crawled slowly over the blanket, the breakfast, his legs, until her hands rested on either side of his hips. His smile lifted only on one side. He took care to stay very still, but his mouth opened slightly as she approached. This close to Blake she could smell him.
Fresh, sweet fall leaves and mint
.

He smelled like a dedicated lover of Mother Earth. The mint was his breath. It wasn’t a manufactured toothpaste, but a marvelous herb scent. Livia had never wanted anything more than to taste his lips right then.

“Would you mind very much if I kissed you?” she whispered.

Blake shook his head.

Livia leaned in and took a gentle kiss. His lips were soft, and they tasted perfect. The smell of his skin combined with that wonderful taste almost made her collapse.

Blake steadied her by placing his hand against her chest. His splayed fingers must have felt how fast her heart was beating. Livia pulled back just a bit to see his eyes again. They were half closed and shimmering.

It was his turn to whisper. “Would you mind very much if I kissed you?”

She shook her head and waited, very still. Blake lifted his other hand to touch her face. Livia had to work not to press her skin into his fingers. His touch was light as a breeze. He traced the features of her face. He trailed his fingers down to her throat and up to her earlobe.
He’s so gentle.

As soon as the thought flashed through Livia’s mind, Blake grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking it enough to make her gasp. Then he kissed the living hell out of her.

Oh, oh, OH.
Livia felt her arms begin to shake, and Blake took more of her weight onto his forearm. She’d had no idea kissing was an art form. She knew now. Blake had to be the one to end the kiss.

“You better get over there with the passengers.” He could only stare at her lips.

The train. Right. Crap.

Livia had forgotten they weren’t alone. She tried to ignore the tremors in her hands as she cleaned up his smooshed breakfast.

“I’m so sorry I kneeled on your food.” She tried to put it back together.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m all good right now.” And he was. He looked delighted and kept licking his lips, much to Livia’s distraction. “May I take your cooler and blanket for you again?” He held out his hand.

“Please. Thank you very much,” she replied.

Livia needed to go further onto the platform to catch the train, but a set of handcuffs seemed to bind her wrist to Blake’s. He noticed her reluctance and motioned for her to enter his shade again. He bent at the waist and lifted her hand to his lips. Before he released her hand, he looked out at her from his under his eyelashes.

“Have a wonderful day, Livia. I vote for serendipitous
rendezvous
.”

Livia felt her mouth open a little when he added the French accent again. She stole glances at him as she finally moved to wait for the train.

“Homeleth humper.”

Livia looked around to see where the weird words had originated. A balding man glared at her from over his smart phone. Livia pointed to her chest and gave the man a confused eyebrow lift.

“Yeth you. You’re a homeleth humper.” The man slowed his lisped speech so he could pronounce the insult more clearly.

Livia felt her rage ignite. “Well, Oily Comb-Over, looks like I need to buy you a load of Shut Your Mouth for your birthday.”

Livia watched the man turn bright red. She heard Blake’s words in her mind,
You’re not invisible to them.

Well, screw them. That was the best kiss of my life, and these jerks were lucky to witness it.

Livia now saw clearly what she needed to do. She would break up with Chris this weekend. She sighed with satisfaction and the lingering effects of Blake’s kiss, now tattooed on her heart.

Livia spent a ridiculous amount of time deciding whether or not to buy the potato knish at Grand Central Station. She held the white paper bag in her hands.
Will he accept it without being insulted?
She’d crushed his breakfast being so forward this morning. She shook her head at her behavior.
Where does this confidence come from?