Always, in December by Emily Stone
Chapter Thirteen
Max ran his hand along the side of the bridge they were currently walking across, admiring the feel of the cast iron. Though he hadn’t spent much time here, he knew from an interest in the architecture of New York that this was Bow Bridge, and had been designed by Calvert Vaux and Jacob Wrey Mould, like many other of the key architectural features of the park. It was actually pretty fucking cool, though the egotistical side of him slightly resented that he’d not had the chance to design something like this, something that made it onto the ‘top ten’ lists – something that people came out just to admire. He sighed as he looked around him, a little bit in awe at the views from here. He was just able to make out some of the high-rise buildings of the city – a view that he imagined would become a little more obscured as the trees beefed up a bit in late spring.
‘Jesus,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I had no idea how big this place was.’ He’d walked through bits of Central Park before now, but never purposefully just to enjoy it. Chloe rolled her eyes at his statement, and he hunched his shoulders a little defensively. ‘Well, it’s been winter, hasn’t it? And it gets bloody cold here, I’m hardly going to spend all my free time exploring the great outdoors.’ Chloe, very deliberately, said nothing and looked the other way, swinging the picnic basket and apparently admiring the trees that were just starting to show their colours again, but at least Erin gave him a sympathetic shrug.
Max glanced down at the lake below, which, thanks to the sun’s appearance, was glistening up at them, reflecting some of the green that was just beginning to blossom. There were even two rowboats coming up under the bridge, a couple in each of them looking delightfully pleased with themselves. It would be beautiful in the autumn too, he thought absently, with all the trees changing colours.
Chloe led them on a slightly meandering route towards what she called the ‘heart’ of Central Park – the Bethesda Fountain and Terrace. She held out her arms dramatically, picnic basket and all, when they caught the first glimpse of the big fountain in the middle of the lower terrace, water cascading around two circular platforms that held up an angel and down into a pond with lily pads dotted around its surface. Behind the fountain was the seemingly endless lake, where more people were rowing, or else sitting by the water on the sandstone two-tiered wall at its edge. The whole terrace was packed, a bunch of tourists with their cameras out and sunglasses on, despite the fact that, though sunny, it was far from shorts and t-shirt weather. He was certainly much more suitably dressed in jeans and a jumper.
The three of them walked across the orange-bricked floor to find a space at the edge of the fountain. Then they all just stopped, staring up at it.
‘It’s called Angel of the Waters,’ Max supplied. Erin and Chloe both nodded in a way that suggested they already knew this. He supposed, like himself, Erin must have done a bit of research into the architecture of the city, given she was an architect too.
Erin looked around, popping one hand on her hip. Max noticed a guy a few metres away give her an appreciative look, the red blouse she was wearing making her stand out amongst the crowd. ‘I keep feeling like I recognise this from somewhere.’
‘It’s Central Park,’ Max said, shrugging.
She tapped a foot, which was encased in a heeled boot that Max was surprised hadn’t given her blisters yet. ‘Yes, I know that, but it’s like there’s something more that I recognise, even though I’ve obviously never been here. It’s been annoying me for a while.’
‘Have you seen Home Alone 2?’Chloe asked. Erin frowned and shook her head. ‘One Fine Day?’ At Max’s raised eyebrows, Chloe shrugged. ‘I did some googling – it’s been in both those films.’
A woman, totally rocking the cowboyesque look of a checked shirt and tight blue jeans, came over and smiled at Max at that moment, holding out a camera. ‘I don’t suppose you’d mind . . .?’ She gestured behind her to where a small girl, her hair in two plaits, and another woman with a cap on were standing by the fountain.
‘Sure.’ Max took the camera and took a few shots, smiling at the woman automatically when he gave it back to her.
‘Come on,’ said Erin, slipping her phone out of her handbag. ‘Let me get one of the two of you.’
Max went along with it, knowing they’d just argue if he refused, though it gave him a slightly unpleasant jolt in the stomach, even as he smiled and put his arm around Chloe, because a distinct memory invaded his mind, of another girl with a different, more impressive camera, taking photos of him on the beach.
They found some space on the little wall by the lake, right in the corner by a big green flag, and under the shadow of one of the trees that was already looking bushy. Max leaned back as he sat down and nearly lost his balance, stopping himself just before he fell backwards into the water. He ignored the look Chloe gave him and stretched his legs out in front of him as she unpacked the picnic. He’d expected to be fairly ambivalent about the whole thing, only agreeing to the outing for Erin’s sake, as she’d flown all this way, but it was actually a bit impossible not to absorb some of the atmosphere here, the feeling of the multitude of people out to enjoy some time in one of the most famous parks in the world, on a day that was definitely promising that spring was now here to stay.
‘Is it always this busy?’ Erin asked, accepting the picnic blanket that Max had declined and setting it down carefully on the stone before she sat, presumably so she didn’t get those white trousers of hers dirty.
Max shrugged. ‘No idea.’ Chloe gave him a mocking headshake, and Erin looked between them, clearly deciding whether to tell Chloe to just leave him be. His sister was right though – not that she’d actually said anything. He should’ve done more while he was here; he just hadn’t been able to find the energy to go out exploring on his own, even if he’d had the desire to.
Chloe handed round the canned drinks that their mum had packed, before opening up the Tupperwares. Their mum had insisted that they’d only get ripped off if they bought food in the park, and that it wasn’t worth the money – and as she was the only one who’d grown up in New York, they’d decided to take her word for it.
‘So,’ Chloe said over a mouthful of mini-quiche. ‘Where next?’ She’d decided to take control of the day, apparently, and Max had decided to let her. ‘We could do a bike tour?’
Erin looked uncomfortably down at her pristine outfit.
‘Nah, not really feeling that,’ Max said quickly, before Chloe could pick up on Erin’s reluctance – and the reason for it – and make some sort of sarcastic comment. She might not mean anything by it, but she wasn’t always great at noticing that other people still took offence at those comments, regardless of the fact she didn’t necessarily mean it – and Erin was one of those people.
‘Well what about the zoo?’ Chloe pressed.
Max took one of his mother’s smoked salmon sandwiches. She’d even cut the crusts off. ‘The zoo? Are you serious?’
‘Yes. Though actually, seeing the animals in cages might make me a bit sad.’ She shoved a sandwich into her mouth whole. ‘The castle!’ Only it came out a little muffled. She swallowed, then tried again. ‘Belvedere Castle. We definitely have to go there – apparently you can see pretty much round the whole city.’ She frowned. ‘Or maybe it was just round the whole park.’
Erin, who was still nibbling away at her first mini quiche, shook her head. ‘How are you remembering all these little facts without looking it up?’
‘I’ve got a photographic memory,’ Chloe said, tapping the side of her head.
‘Really?’ Erin cocked her head. ‘I never knew that about you.’
‘That’s because it’s not true. Ignore her, Erin.’ When Chloe only grinned, Max sighed. ‘Look, if you’re in planning mode, can you factor in that I have to go into the office at some point this afternoon? I’ve got that work thing on Monday night with these fancy clients, and I said I’d just double-check a few things.’ He finished his sandwich, then frowned at Erin. ‘I told you about that, right?’ He’d added her as his plus one, being as how he could hardly just leave her at home with his parents on her last night in New York.
‘You did,’ Erin assured him. ‘And I’ve got my dress ready.’
‘You didn’t tell me about it,’ Chloe piped up helpfully. ‘But that’s ok, I’ll make sure you have time to go to the office. Maybe I can come along too for the ride.’
Max raised his eyebrows. ‘I doubt Liam will be there, it’s the weekend.’ He had to laugh when she pouted.
‘And on that note,’ Chloe said, ‘I’m going to the loo. There’s bound to be a public toilet around here somewhere, right?’ She glanced round. ‘I’ll be right back.’ Max watched her bound away for a moment, the leather jacket she’d put on to go with her black jeans well and truly suiting the short black hair and making her look like some kind of cute little biker chick. He refused to use the word sexy in relation to his sister. She fitted in totally with New York – there was no way you’d know from looking at her that she was a tourist.
Erin helped herself to a packet of strawberries, picking the stem off one before taking a small bite. Max watched her for a moment. She’d done her face subtly today so that she looked dewy and springlike – a bit like the trees surrounding them. She was so pretty; there was no denying that. Yet he didn’t think he felt it, the usual punch of attraction he had around her. She looked up from the strawberries and saw him watching, smiled. He smiled back, wished it didn’t feel quite so forced.
‘So,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. ‘I’ve been thinking.’
Max’s stomach jolted, and if he could have grimaced without it being more than a little rude, he would have. He’d thought they’d be able to put off this moment or, best case, that maybe it wouldn’t come at all. He cleared his throat. ‘Right.’
‘I know this year has been tough for you, but I want to be in your life, Max.’ Direct and to the point, as always.
He took a sip of his drink – soda water – just for something to do. ‘You are in my life,’ he said, trying for easy and casual.
She kept her eyes on his face. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Right,’ he said again. Because he did. He tapped his fingers against his can. ‘I thought you said we were different people now, that we’d be better off firmly as friends?’ He cocked one eyebrow, kept his tone light. ‘We were just too comfortable and that’s why we kept coming back for more. I’m pretty sure that’s what you said.’ He smiled to let her know he wasn’t saying it resentfully.
She wrinkled her nose. ‘I didn’t say it quite like that.’
But she had said a version of it and he’d hated it at the time, had got all bent out of shape and stormed out of the room. He’d assumed that it was all coming from her, that she was just trying to get rid him. He’d shouted at her that they’d been through this all before, that she should just make up her damn mind one way or another, and told her he was fed up with being the one she came crying to when something went wrong in her life. Because he’d been offended that she was the one ending it, he hadn’t even bothered to consider the fact that she was right. But then, over the last year, he’d realised that he’d been doing the same – he’d allowed her to be the one he always went running to, without even considering whether it was the right thing for either of them. And so he’d conceded, after learning not to do that, that she’d had a point, that they were probably better off as friends, because being together meant that they were always bursting at the seams a little – both of them growing as people yet unable to, because they kept pulling each other back to one another.
‘This past year,’ Erin continued, when it was clear he wasn’t going to offer up his thoughts out loud, ‘it’s made me realise. It’s made me think that maybe . . . Maybe comfortable is good.’ She took a deep breath, her chest moving with the action. ‘I want to be there for you, Max.’ He did actually grimace this time, but she shook her head firmly. ‘I want . . . Well. I just think that maybe we should give it another go.’ And with that, she bit into a strawberry, though she kept looking at him, even when he wouldn’t meet her gaze. He liked her directness – it meant you always knew where you stood – but it also made her particularly formidable at times, because she knew just how to go after things she wanted.
She offered the strawberries to him, and he took one. ‘Surprised Mum didn’t put in some champagne too,’ he muttered, and to his relief, she grinned. She’d probably considered it, Max thought, and then remembered that he wasn’t drinking at the moment.
He popped the whole strawberry in his mouth and she leaned back, tilting her face up to the sky and arching her back. ‘I think you should move in with me, when you get back to the UK.’ He choked a bit on the strawberry, but she only closed her eyes, apparently enjoying the feel of the sun filtering through leaves to warm her face. ‘In Edinburgh,’ she clarified, as if that were the main issue with her proposal. ‘I know you don’t have anywhere to stay.’
‘Is that right?’ Max growled, vowing to have a word with his mother when they were alone.
Erin opened her eyes, looked at him, and nodded. ‘And the thing is . . .’ She glanced over his shoulder and bit her lip. He wondered briefly if she’d seen Chloe. ‘I don’t mind if that’s just as friends.’ She huffed out a breath, looked back at him. He raised his eyebrows, and she elaborated. ‘I’d rather it wasn’t, which I’m sure you’ve gathered. But the offer’s there either way.’ She gave him a soft smile. She meant it too – she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t. She wasn’t the type to play complicated games, and he didn’t think she’d do that to him now. But even if it was just as friends, it was still fucking dangerous territory.
‘So.’ She shook back that long blonde hair. ‘What do you think?’
Jesus, just like that, he was supposed to decide? He ran a hand across the back of his neck. ‘Erin . . .’ She was looking over his shoulder again, so he twisted slightly to look too. He’d been right – Chloe was weaving her way back over to them, and he was sure that neither he nor Erin wanted to leave the conversation open around his sister. He cleared his throat and twisted back to her. ‘Erin, I—’
But he stopped, snapped his head back towards the fountain. He’d seen something there. Someone. He was sure of it. It’d only been a moment, but he had that face memorised. He frantically scanned the crowd, until he locked his gaze on a side profile. Warm brown hair, standing out like autumn in the spring, a small nose, full lips. Surely not. But he was already standing, already taking a step towards her, shifting position so as to see a little better. Shaking his head as if he couldn’t be right about this. Maybe it was just because he’d been thinking of her earlier.
And then he heard the sound of her laughing.
‘Max?’ Erin’s voice sounded dim somehow, compared to the thumping of his heart, the sudden blur of noise around him.
‘I’ll be right back,’ he said, aware that his voice was clipped, almost a little panicked, and unable to stop it. He walked swiftly in the girl’s direction, trying to keep his gaze locked on what was now the back of her head, cursing the multiple people who kept getting in his way. He felt a hand on his arm and whipped to it.
Chloe immediately let go, raising her hands as if in surrender. ‘Whoa, what’s up? Did it get that bad?’ She punched her chest dramatically with one hand. ‘Fear not, brother of mine, I’m coming back and I’ll fend off any googly-eyed—’
‘Just give me a minute, ok, Chlo?’
Chloe frowned. ‘Hey, what—’
But he ignored her, quite literally running from her now, swearing under his breath when he couldn’t locate the girl again. Surely it couldn’t be her. He’d left her in London. Left knowing he’d never see her again. His head whipped around, scanning the area around the fountain. He just had to make sure, that was all. That was the only driving thought in his brain right now, even if he was, distantly, aware that it wasn’t entirely logical. His heart was galloping as he jogged around the fountain, ignoring the curious-eyed looks, given he wasn’t dressed for a run. He was a little out of breath already, making him realise how unfit he’d become in the last few months – he’d run the Edinburgh marathon two years ago, for Christ’s sake, and now look at him.
Then he saw it, the flash of hair again, and reached out to grab the girl who was turning away from him. She glanced back, more than a little startled, and frowned. He dropped her arm immediately. ‘Sorry,’ he said quickly, and backed away as a man came up alongside her. ‘I just . . . Sorry.’ He took a breath, pulled both hands through his hair. The girl gave a little shrug, and, after a suspicious look from the guy, they both walked away.
Not Josie. Well, of course not. It was highly bloody unlikely, wasn’t it? But still, the laugh . . . He hadn’t forgotten that laugh. Warm and uninhibited, the type of laugh that made you want to find something to joke about, just so you could hear it again. With one last glance around, he admitted defeat and walked back over to where Chloe and Erin were both standing, staring at him.
Chloe held both her hands out, palms up, as if to conjure up an explanation. ‘What the hell?’
‘Sorry. I just . . . I thought I saw someone.’ They both continued to look at him, and Chloe’s frown deepened. He really hoped she didn’t press – she knew about his whirlwind romance at Christmas, but Erin did not, and given her little speech just now, he doubted she’d take kindly to it. He cleared his throat. ‘It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Just thought I saw a friend, that’s all. Anyway, come on, let’s go and find this castle, that sounds cool.’
He let out a silent breath when they both let the matter drop and turned to pack up the picnic basket. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to explain it anyway, not in a way that they’d understand. He wasn’t even totally sure he knew what he’d been thinking himself. He only knew that, in that first instant, his heart had jolted at the thought that he might get to see her again and, for just a second, everything else had ceased to matter.