“You can’t just hold planes. That’s not how planes work,” I say when he gets to us, winded beyond belief. I couldn’t be more excited to see him.
“Well,privateplanes…” Mom offers. I give her a look. “What? I’m just saying.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask Gramps. Then I see Grandma pulling up the rear in her snug coat and puff-ball hat. Noelle is beside her, giant replicas of the Times Square Ball hanging from her ears.
When they split off, a flushed Hector appears, rolling a suitcase behind him.
My heart catches, and my breath snags.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I say.
“I wasn’t sure I’d come either, dude,” he admits. “It took a village just to get me here.” He gestures to his posse.
“His car wouldn’t start,” Gramps says.
“And then Gramps lost his wallet,” Grandma says.
“So they called me,” Noelle says.
“And we had a terrible time finding parking,” Hector says.At least I got that part right.
“Which is expensive ashell,” Noelle cries. “I will be Venmo-ing you for reimbursement, thank you very much.”
I laugh. “I got you. Don’t worry about it.”
But as I say it, my own worry rears its ugly head.
Focusing on my breath, I allow the atmosphere of this liminal space to settle in around us. We’re far removed from the fantasy of Wind River and the reality of Manhattan. Somewhere in the middle of Queens, in its own zip code, Hector and I become uncertain reminders of a Christmas romance gone awry.
“Does this mean what I think it means?” I ask, needing to hear it to be certain that this isn’t a holiday hallucination.
There is a long pause where I’m certain I’ve lost him to his own doubts, but then he smirks that delicious smirk and my body goes woozy. “When you first arrived in Wind River, I sincerely thought my whole holiday was shot to hell, dude. That my unfortunate situation had somehow gotten more unfortunate. Then we agreed to work together, and I thought,Well, at least one good thing is coming out of this. If I’m being honest, I never thought I’d get two good things. This.” He holds up his plane ticket—the one for today. “Andyou.”
Relief rushes through my body; his words mean everything to me.
“It crushed me that you wouldn’t hear me out and that you left knowing that it would hurt me most of all, but I understand that the Matthew who believed the lie is not the Matthew I shared a room with, planned a gala with. Definitely not the Matthew that showed up with gifts and sincere apologies,” he says.
“You’re right.” I’m suddenly scared. “That’s right, but here’s the thing: I can’t promise that incoherent, spiraling Matthew won’t come back. There’s no cure or quick fix or reset button that will turn him off. All I can do is try and take care of myself.”
He nods, understanding. “I know.”
“Well, I guess…I guess I’m just saying I understand if that’s too much for you.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Matthew Prince—too much?” He laughs, oozing care. “No. Honestly, I don’t think there will ever be enough. I was ready to say as much when you showed up at the bookstore, but why waste a perfectly goodgrand gesture, right?”
The lovely creases by his eyes let me know he’s being genuine. It’ll take some time to process all of this, but we have a whole plane ride together to hash it out.
“I forgive you, Matthew. And I know I said I don’t believe good things last.” Hector reaches out to touch me, and I lean in. “But I believe in our good thing, and I believe inus.”
The wooziness multiplies. I stare back, at a loss for human words to describe the beautiful blasts booming inside me.
Right there in the middle of rushing commuters and frenzied guards, we kiss. It’s the kind of kiss that reads like an ellipsis and hangs in the air over our heads, an uncertain piece of punctuation on a story we’re still writing. It’s a promise of something more to come. I surrender to his taste, his touch, his warmth, his life and then some.
The TSA security guard starts a slow clap for the absolute scene we’re making. A horde of people join in. Gramps whistles. And for once I couldn’t be happier about the sheer spectacle I’ve become.
New year, new me?
Nope.
