I look about the shop; there’s a hint of sugar and butter in the air, along with the scent of melted chocolate.
“Well, I mean, I’m a dancer. It’s what I’ve always been known for,” I finally answer with a smile, putting the more surface-level answer out there in case that was all he was after. Recently, I’ve been on a stage almost every day, so I must be doing what I always wanted to be known for, even though the experience oflife as a professional ballerina hasn’t been as satisfying as I’d hoped.
He shakes his head, somehow understanding I’m holding back. “The real answer.”
I laugh, disbelief lacing my voice. “You know, we still don’t know each other very well, and here you are, asking deep, soul-searching questions.”
“I’m trying to get to the real heart of your response. As for the questions, I want to really live, to ask the questions that matter. And something tells me you don’t want to settle for less than that either.”
Humming, my hand swirls the remnants of whipped cream in my mug as I wait for clarity. What do I want to be known for? But though I think I don’t have an answer, I hear it, the whisper deep within my ribs. Somehow, I will the courage to speak it. Counterintuitively, looking into Jace’s eyes helps. His gaze says I’m holding something he’s been searching for, and I dare to try to see if it’s true.
“It’s not so much what I want to be known for; it’s just that I want to be known in the first place,” I confess, casting my eyes down but glancing back up to find his warm face once more.
His torso leans even closer to me across the tiny wooden table. Well, it isn’t so much that the table is small as that he makes it look tiny in comparison to his strong frame.
“You can trust me,” he urges. “I’ll call my sister back if needed.” His wink tells me that he’s easing me into the truth, sensing I need the support.
I take a breath, his proximity giving me a hint of spice and something else that is soothing, like a calming forest at Christmastime. And maybe it’s wishful thinking to reveal parts of my soul to a near-stranger, or maybe honesty is exactly what I need to get out of the general sense of heartache that’s been crushing me for months.
“I want to be known,” I admit. “Not just the facts or the feelings. I don’t want to be driven by the need to be perfect or think that if I could only fix one more flaw, I could be loved more in return. Not only that, but I want to want to be held by someone, and I don’t want that person to ever let go. If home can be found in a person, I want to find out.”
The words rush out of me, stinging my throat and eyes. I focus on the crumbs from the cookies we demolished an hour ago between us on the table, the sound of jazzy Christmas music playing softly through the speakers. The taste of glorified chocolate milk lingers as I finally finish off the mug of what was once hot chocolate. I’ve laid it all out there, and now I feel exposed.
There’s silence at the table, and I calculate how quickly I can grab my bag from between our feet on the floor. How quickly can I make it around the corner and disappear into the streets of Birch Borough? I know that wouldn’t play out because we have only one main street. Instead, I play with the handle of the mug and keep my attention on my hands. Suddenly, I see Jace’s large hand reach out to cover one of my own. Immediately, the warmth of it releases the tension stuck in my system. My eyes flash up to find his, the amber color arresting and intense, kindness hovering around the edges. In the dim light of the cookie shop, I can almost believe the color is in motion, painting his emotions in real time.
“Like starlight,” he says, the richness in his voice like a blanket.
“What?” I don’t think I heard correctly.
“Like starlight. Sometimes, even in the noise and the pollution, you have to look for it, search for it. But once you see it above, you realize it’s the most beautiful light. It will always be where you are if you only look up.”
“Not the moon? Or the sun?” I reply with a smile, my heart jolting at the aftermath of his words.
“Overrated. Give me the gentle, steady light from the stars any night to remind me that the world still holds beauty.”
“You’re very smooth, you know that?”
He lets out a laugh before his grip, though still gentle, presses on my hand. “Ivy, don’t settle for anything less,” are the words he lays between us next. I cling to them, the unexpected permission to pursue my own kind of dream etching itself into my heart. “Promise me?”
And while I can’t imagine that my promise could mean anything to him this soon, I know I must find a way to hold on to it. “I promise,” I whisper.
He nods, his shoulders release, and his swoony smile returns to his face.“Now, tell me, has your voice always been this mesmerizing?” The humor returns to his tone.
There’s a sense of affection brewing and infusing my system with more energy than I know how to handle. I don’t care that it’s growing later and later, and I’ve ruined my rigid bedtime routine. For tonight, I’m free.
Finally, I can fully breathe after my confessions, and it feels right to order another cup of candy cane hot chocolate, fully intent on being here until the place closes down.
∞∞∞
After Jace’s fourth cup of coffee and my second hot chocolate, we step into the night once more. The cold air snaps with even more frigid briskness after the warmth of the cookie shop. We wander down the street, neither of us thinking of the time, talking like we’ve known each other forever. Somehow, we find our way back to the ice-skating rink. It’s empty, the lights hanging above theonly illumination. It’s freezing, and my red coat does little to keep out the chill.
Still, I don’t want to leave him. Something pulls at my soul, telling me that this moment is too good, and it will soon be gone, never to return to me.
It’s been a beautiful, fulfilling evening, full of surprises and exactly what I’ve needed. Jace’s hand moving to the small of my back grounds me in the moment. I turn toward him, willing this night to become a core memory.
What’s happening between us feels like wholesome intimacy. It feels like time standing still, or perhaps I feel like the most gloriously bright version of myself. I don’t want this night to end. My heart once again picks up speed like the train in our town moving down the tracks. There’s a reason we’ve found each other tonight, and I pray I’ll know the answer to the questions I have for the future—if not tonight, then one day.
As wonderful as this unexpected evening has been, fear creeps into my mind. I can’t imagine—even if I wasn’t going back to New York—that Jace would want to pursue me. How could anything beyond this night be possible? But something in me wants to find out.
