“I think so. I hope so.”
He inclined his head. “Then I am happy you have found it.”
I could feel him leaving, withdrawing from me, and there were no words, I couldn’t find the words in time to make him stay. “I’ll be back,” I babbled. “Sometime. I mean, I have to clear out my apartment, right?”
“Ah. Yes. Maybe you will call me when you...” Another tiny hesitation. “Visit New York.”
Like a booty call. My heart sank. “Yes. Of course.”
He half turned away. Turned back. His arms wrapped around me, half lifting me off my feet. He hugged me hard, muttering something into my hair.
“Ma’am.” The security guard sounded pained.
Before I could react, before I could say anything, Eric released me and walked away without looking back.
“Ma’am, you can’t stay here. You have to move on.”
Stupid phrase.Move on. Moving on. I watched Eric’s broad back all the way into the terminal.
Are you sure you’re all right staying home with the twins?” Meg asked. She and John were leaving for a New Year’s Eve party at Belle Gardiner’s. My sister looked fantastic.
“Absolutely.” I waved them away. “You kids have fun.”
John smiled, one hand at the small of her back. “Thanks.”
“You, too,” Meg said.
And I did. Daisy and DJ were at their most adorable, popping in and out of a giant carton that doubled as a fort/cave/spaceship, snuggling with me on the couch to readWhere the Wild Things Arebefore bed. We paraded like monsters up the stairs, all of us in our pajamas.
“Yum, yum, yum,” I growled as I tucked them in, nuzzling their sweet necks. “Must. Eat. Children.” And they squealed and hugged me with their chubby arms. DJ gave me his slow, wide smile and a kiss.
“I love you, Auntie Jo,” Daisy said.
My heart filled. “Love you, little monsters. So much.”
One day,I thought, turning out the lights.
But, God, I was exhausted. Lately I seemed to be tired all the time. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Salted Caramel Core in the freezer. I got the ice cream and a spoon and sat down with the dog to watchWhen Harry Met Sallyalmost to the bitter end, when Billy Crystal ran through the streets of New York to find Meg Ryan. Their eyes met, caught, and held across the crowded room as the party counted down around them. Not because he was lonely. Not because it was New Year’s Eve. But because he saw her. Because he loved her.
Crap.I checked my phone for messages. Zilch. Zip. No voice mail. No e-mail. No new comments on the blog.
He was working, I told myself. Everyone in the restaurant world worked on New Year’s Eve. There would be two seatings and a special menu. The kitchen would be hot and crowded and intense, crackling with energy. At midnight, there would be a special champagne toast, and Eric would circulate through the dining room, making every guest feel welcome.
“Maybe you will call me when you visit New York.”His long-distance booty call. But, oh, that look in his eyes when I told him I wasn’t coming back...
I grabbed my phone.Not calling. Come see me,I texted.
Not that I was counting on an answer. I’d broken up with him. Orhe’d broken up with me. Besides, he was in the middle of service. The kitchen would stay open as long as people were there and ordering. He probably wouldn’t even check his messages until morning.
I switched to the ball drop in Times Square. Nothing like watching puking hordes of tourists in the Hellmouth to make me feel better about missing New Year’s Eve in New York. I wondered how Amy was faring with her friends. I hoped she was happy. Or at least warm.
The dog put her head on my knee, fixing me with Disney dog eyes.
“Happy New Year,” I said, and let her lick the spoon.
My phone pinged. I lurched for it, rousing a bark from Lady.
A single word.When?
