Lola
That weekend I felt happy, for the first time in a long time. I played with Macy, and we went out with Sara to the park. On Saturday, I treated her to pancakes for breakfast, and cooked an enormous bowl of spaghetti carbonara in my kitchen for Sara, her uncle Sebastien and her son, Raul. It had been so long since I'd had the money to have people over for dinner, and Macy and I made a real occasion of it. I dressed her in a princess dress and she and Raul sat playing with their toys. And that evening, I put Macy to bed, and played Frank Sinatra on my stereo, and relaxed with a glass of wine. What had come over me?
I knew, deep down, that it was Alex. Something about him had made me alive and alert to the world. His kindness hadn't gone unnoticed. I couldn't forgive him for his past actions-for leaving me and Macy when we both needed him. But now that they'd been in the same room, it felt easier somehow to separate them. Alex had seemed so uncomfortable, so awkward at Macy's presence that I knew he could never be a father-had no interest in being one. It made it easier to let go, for now, anyway.
The next week, I went into work, cheerier than usual. I was happily humming away a Cole Porter tune as Andy and I worked the bar. And I looked up every time the door opened, checking if it was Alex.
Eventually, he came in, and I waved at him. He waved back, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of a smile play on his lips. He sauntered over casually.
"How are things?" he said.
"Pretty good," I said. "We're running a little low on our French stock. I'd like to see Pierre next week with Andy, so we can pick up some new stuff?"
"That's good," he said. "Any time you see a problem like that coming, you go for it. I know you'll manage."
I felt warm and fuzzy receiving his praise, but tried not to let it show.
"I, uh, wanted to thank you for last week," I said.
"There's no need," he said.
We stood in silence for a little while, and I wiped the bar.
"Are you free on Thursday night?" said Alex, quietly. He kept his eyes trained on Andy, who was around the other side of the bar, out of earshot.
"Well, I Can Be," I said. "Why? You need me to come in?"
"No," said Alex. "No. I was wondering if you'd like to do something."
"What?" I said, surprised.
"You know. Go out. Or...maybe, just get something to eat?"
"Something to...eat?" I said.
"Yeah?"
"Like a date?"
"Not a date, no. Just...as friends."
"We're friends now?" I said skeptically.
"Sure we are."
"Um, okay," I said. "I'll call Sara and see if she can watch Macy. I can't stay out late, though."
"Sure," said Alex. "Great. Let me, uh. Let me know."
He vanished up the stairs.
*
"It's no big deal," I said to myself. "No big deal at all. He just wants to go out as friends. It's not a date. Not a date. You hear me, girl?" It's not a date.
"You talking to yourself in the mirror?" said Sara. But as I fussed with my hair in the mirror, and adjusted the straps of my dress, I realized that while Alex Lowe was not taking me on a date, I certainly wasn't acting like it.
"Crap," I said. "I think this thing is from my pre-baby years. It's definitely a size too small."
"Baby," said Sara, in the bathroom doorway. "Get out of here! You're gonna be late!"
"Okay," I said.
"Besides, you look beautiful! He's gonna be so impressed! And if he isn't, I'm gonna knock his block off."
"l Told You," I said, for the thousandth time. "We're just going as friends."
But Sara wasn't having any of it. "Honey," she told me. "When I go see my friends, I don't spend an hour getting ready."
"Well, we are friends, but still. Is Macy going to be okay?"
"She's fine, sweetheart."
After finishing my shift, I'd run home to pick up Macy and give her a snack. Then I'd got dressed and sent her over to Sara's. I'm not sure I could have dragged myself away from her, except for the fact that she loved it there. Sara's spicy home cooking and the music she played in her apartment. And Raul, her kid, who was Macy's best friend and classmate. They loved doing their homework together and drawing on anything and everything with colorful crayons.
"GO!" Sara said, shooing me out of the door of her apartment.
She shut the door, and I sighed.
Alex had sent a car to pick me up, of course. But I was surprised when I got into the back of the silver Bentley that had been waiting for me downstairs for the last ten minutes. Because Alex wasn't there.
"Where's Alex?" I said.
"Mr. Lowe asked me to pick you up and take you to Ferry Point. That okay, ma'am?"
Ferry Point? That was the park at the tip of the South Bronx, just over the bridge from Queens. It was a weird place to meet. South Bronx wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I decided to say yes to Alex's invitation.
"All right." I shrugged.
We drove over the bridge and past the park, to my surprise. There, we turned off to the right and drove. I couldn't imagine where we were going, until we got to the marina. We turned off and drove through a gate that automatically locked behind us.
I got out. It was evening, and the sun was a burnished bronze over the water.
"He's just over there, ma'am," said the driver. "You have a good night now."
"Thanks," I said, and tottered over in my best pair of heels. I prayed Alex hadn't decided to put me on a sailboat. I wasn't going to fare well in my shoes.
But when I turned the corner, I gasped.
I could see Alex-the dark shape of his shoulders, in a dark suit. He was standing, looking out over the sea.
And right behind him, was a helicopter.
"Oh my God," I said. "Is that..."
"I thought perhaps you'd like to see your neighborhood from a different angle," he said, smiling. "Come on."
He led me towards the helicopter. It was bigger than I'd imagined, with a pair of long blades in a cross that drooped down.