Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Olive’s phone reminders:

Send cheque to storage company

Find a new counsellor

Buy one of Donna’s candles because no one else is buyingthem

Take flowers to Birdie

Double-check course registration details

Start level 3 of Still Mindsapp

‘The planes are sobig up close! How do they even stay in the air? I know it sounds dumb, but it doesn’t make logical sense!’

‘Alex, relax! I promise you it will be fine.’ I pat my big brother’s shoulder and hand him the pint I bought him, watching as he takes a nervous sip. ‘You’re going first-class too. It’s great. They have pod seats and flat-screen TVs and everything.’

Alex nods, patting his coat pockets for the millionth time to check he’s still got his passport and tickets to Japan. He’s taken a year’s sabbatical at work and some of the money we got from the house sale to travel Asia. It’s been a long time in the planning and I couldn’t be prouder of him for having the courage to embark on a new adventure.

‘Told you you should wear a bumbag,’ I say, stroking mine lovingly.

‘Nah.’ Alex laughs. ‘I’m not a totalnerd.’

I look pointedly at his hand luggage – a briefcase, and the book he’s taking onto the plane called The Visual Display of Quantitive Information.

‘I beg to differ.’

As we sit in the airport bar, nursing our pints, Alex keeps looking worriedly out of the huge windows. ‘It’s definitely going tosnow.’

‘It might,’ I agree. ‘It is Christmas. Snow tends to occur.’

‘But will it affect the plane?’

‘If it does, they’ll just cancel it. Show some chill!’

Alex laughs. ‘I never thought I’d hear Olive Brewster instructing someone to “Show some chill!”.’

I grin thoughtfully. ‘Me either. I like it. I like sayingit.’

‘It suitsyou.’

The airport speaker blares out, announcing boarding for Alex’s flight. As we head to the gate, I notice that his hands are trembling. I stop him and grabthem.

‘You are going to be fine. You are going to be absolutely fine. If I can do it, lord knows youcan.’

Alex takes a deep breath. ‘Thanks, Sis.’

‘Have fun, okay. And keep me updated with absolutely everything. But not, like, sex stuff, obviously.’ A nearby couple give us an odd look. ‘He’s my brother,’ I explain. To which they make a horrified sort of noise.

‘And you too!’ Alex calls, as he hands his tickets, boarding pass and passport to the pretty young flight attendant. ‘Okay! Here Igo!’

‘There you go!’ I yell back. ‘Go Alexgo!’

As he disappears through the gate, off on an adventure that will change him in ways he can’t even fathom yet, I find myself smiling thoughtfully into mid-air. The pair of us are firmly back on a good footing with each other. I’m not saying it had anything to do with Donna leaving but… oh heck, I suppose I am saying that. She was pretty terrible. Living with Alex while we spruced up and sold the house turned out not to be the awkward tedium it was before I went to New York, but a sweet, comfortable time, full of long conversations, laughs and the watching of anything other than The Big Bang Theory.

My phone alarm yanks me out of my thoughts, buzzing incessantly from inside my bumbag.

Ooh! That’s my reminder! Shit! I best get a moveon.

I have my own flight to catch!

* * *

Nine hours later,I step out into the arrivals lounge wibbly-legged from a tumultuous flight. This time I didn’t need alcohol or Rescue Remedy or Xanax to get through it – I just used every anxiety-reducing trick in my newly equipped mental arsenal. And it worked. Mostly. Hence the wibblylegs.

My cases have already been couriered over from Saddleworth and so the only luggage I have is my beautiful pink bumbag, wrapped snugly around my waist.

I walk through the melee of chauffeurs and reuniting families to a soundtrack of Christmas carols playing over the tannoy system. My eyes flick from left to right searchingfor…

‘Olive!’ I hear his thin, reedy drawl before I see him. I peek up and Anders is there, looking insane and a bit terrifying in tight white jeans, a tight white jumper and ginormous grey scarf, his icy hair in a quiff, his pale eyes super wide with excitement. He’s holding a home-made cardboard sign that says ‘Welcome (back) to NYC, Darling.’

Beside him, dressed in a rainbow-striped dress and with a very sleek new silvery bob is Mrs Ramirez. She waves madly as I approach, a big smile stretching her wrinkled cheeks smooth.

It’s been over eight months since I’ve seen them. I can’t believe I’m backhere!

‘Anders!’ I yell as they embrace me. ‘Mrs Ramirez!’

‘You’re here, Chica! You are finallyhere!’

‘I love your bob. It looks great, MrsRami—’

‘For goodness sake, call me Glorita.’

‘Sorry! Glorita. Your bob looks beautiful!’

‘That’s not just any old bob, darling, that’s a perfectly trimmed graduated bob with hand-painted babylights. We learned it last week during salon training. I got top marks, of course.’ Anders beams. He’s two months into his hairdressing course and seems to love every minute of it! He’s already asked if he can practise on me when I live with him. Of course I said yes. Except for unicorn horns. I said a firm no to having any kind of horn on my head ever again.

‘Well, it looks brilliant.’

Mrs Ramirez pats her head proudly. Anders reaches out to stop her. ‘Careful!’

I laugh at these two bonkers ex-strangers, who are now the most unlikeliest of friends. I’m so excited to be back here with them, part of their oddball gang. If it wasn’t for Birdie I never would have met them. The things that woman did forme.

After Birdie’s funeral, and with Alex deciding to head off on his Asian adventure, I made the decision to use my share of the house sale money to come back to Manhattan and enrol into an improv course at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade Theatre. I’ve been doing comedy-writing classes in Manchester for the last four months and the absolute heart-lifting, joyful feeling I got from it made the decision to take this bigger, scarier step much easier.

When I called Anders to tell him I was coming for a whole year, he insisted I stay with him. He’s already taken Mrs Ramirez in. The two of them have become firm friends in the last year and when her studio apartment building announced that they were selling up in order to get rid of the rent-controlled tenants, it was a given that she would live with Anders in his big old house. They’re an odd pair. They bicker a lot, they’re completely different, but they love each other fiercely and in a city so big, they’re each other’s family. That I introduced them to each other will forever be one of the best accomplishments of mylife.

In the snowy cab to Gramercy, the three of us catch up, although to be honest, with the daily texting and FaceTime sessions we’re pretty much up to date on each other’snews.

‘Ah, turn this one up, please!’ Mrs Ramirez yells at the cab driver. ‘It is my favourite!’

The driver does as requested, and Andy Williams’ Most Wonderful Time of The Year rings out around thecar.

Anders turns to me from his seat in the front and rolls his eyes. But I can tell he loves it just as much as Ido.

As the Manhattan skyline comes into view, my eyes brim with tears. I knew I missed it here. I knew it as soon as I got on the plane back. But seeing the magnificent buildings in the sky ahead of me, all of the new possibilities the city holds, a million experiences good and bad that I’m going to have, experiences I never would have had the guts to go for without my dear Birdie, overwhelmsme.

‘What’s the matter?’ Anders asks, his head cocked to the side. ‘Are you crying? Is it the saccharine music?’

‘Ay, she’s happy, silly,’ Mrs Ramirez says, handing me an embroidered handkerchief to dry my tears and then grabbing my hand between hers. ‘She’s just glad to be backhome.’

I swallow hard and nod. She’s absolutely right.

* * *

The houseat Gramercy is lovely and warm when we get in. The fires have been lit, the smell of mulled wine wafts through from the kitchen and in the hall is a huge pine Christmas tree twinkling with hundreds of minuscule lights.

‘All of your belongings are up in your room,’ Anders says as he takes my coat. I pull my bobble hat off and he grimaces at my hair. ‘Those ends! Don’t worry, you’re in safe handsnow.’

I laugh as Mrs Ramirez hands me a glass of mulled wine and we all stand there in the hallway by the tree, thrilled to be seeing each other again, happy as heck that we’re about to be the weirdest most mismatched group of roommates anyone eversaw.

‘We got you a surprise!’ Mrs Ramirez says, her eyes flicking secretively up to Anders who gives a littlenod.

‘A Christmas surprise,’ headds.

I press a hand to my chest. ‘Lucky me! Well, what is it? Don’t leave a girl hanging!’

Anders takes one of my arms and Mrs Ramirez takes the other. The pair of them lead me into Anders’ grand, ostentatious livingroom.

Holyshit.

There, standing in front of the crackling fire, looking gorgeous and ridiculous in equal measure, isSeth.

I stare at him, taking in every inch of the face I’ve been trying not to picture in my head every night for the last eight months.

After I came back to Manchester, Seth and I kept up with a few polite ‘how are things going?’ texts, which pretty quickly petered out. For me, it hurt too much to think of him, of the fact that I would never see him again, that I had developed real feelings for what could only ever be a ‘fling’. Plus, the fact that he clearly wasn’t as into it as I was, having sent me packing the day after we slept together, kept me wellaway.

Not to mention that all of my heart was taken up with Birdie. I didn’t want anyone else to steal even a tiny bit of that space. She was my priority. But that didn’t mean I didn’t sneakily watch Seth’s show each week, under the covers in my bed. Smiling proudly as he went from strength to strength, being named one of the year’s rising comedy stars. I imagined calling him at that point. Just to offer my congratulations. Whereupon he would declare that he couldn’t stop thinking about me and was going to fly to Manchester, just so he could kiss me again.

And then, when I saw a picture of Seth on a US gossip site, kissing one of the other Sunday Night Live cast members in Central Park, I quietly deleted his number from my phone and tried my hardest to not let it hurt. I didn’t have room forthat.

Now he’s here. Wearing… a Christmas jumper? And a set of antlers?

I peer at Anders and Mrs Ramirez who are looking from me to Seth and back again, mega-intense smiles on their faces.

‘They made me wear this jumper and antlers,’ Seth says, awkwardly pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘If it were up to me, I’d be looking much cooler rightnow.’

‘Well you don’t look like a Christmas gift in any old shirt and pants!’ Mrs Ramirez pointsout.

Anders nods in agreement.

A small smile lifts the corners of my mouth.

‘We will leave you two alone…’ Anders says, giving me a little wave with his bonyhand.

Mrs Ramirez continues to stare at us, beaming, until Anders has to physically drag her out of theroom.

My heart jolts as Seth gives me a daft smile. My body, which (apart from a couple of Atonement re-watches) has been fairly dormant in Manchester, lights right back up again.

Man alive.

I sit down on one of Anders’ stiff velvet armchairs. Seth sits opposite me on the mauvesofa.

Then I notice that he’s holding a small stack of letters, tied with a gold ribbon.

I frown. Weird…

‘Hey,’ Seth says. ‘It’s good to seeyou.’

‘Hello…’ I reply, noticing that he looks a lot more groomed than when I first met him. His usually messy long hair has a sharper cut now. His shoulders are broader, like he’s been working out. His clothes are ironed. I guess that’s what happens when you start to get famous. ‘What are you doing here?’ Iask.

‘Birdie invitedme.’

I frown. ‘What? How? What are you talking about?’

Seth picks up the stack of letters and waves them atme.

‘What?’

He gives a small single shoulder shrug. ‘We were… kind of pen pals for a while.’

My jaw drops open. Birdie and her letters! What has she been playing at! How has she…? Why hasshe…?

I eagerly reach my hand out for the letters. Seth places the stack into my hand, his fingers briefly touching mine, giving me a little electric shock.

I pull a letter out of one of the envelopes. And sure enough, there is Birdie’s loopy handwriting in a missive dated from six monthsago.

I goggle at the letters, emotion bubbling up in my chest.

Seth smiles at me. ‘She wrote to me because she thought I should be made aware that you weren’t engaged. That it was a fib you made up on the plane and that you didn’t tell me because I hated liars.’

I nod, in complete disbelief that Birdie wrote to Seth and didn’t even tell me! Just like her to be so obnoxious. And… amazing. Even now she’s managing to surpriseme!

‘You know that’s why I cooled off after our night together?’ Seth says, sitting forward on the settee.

I give him a quizzicallook.

‘I knew after we… um…’ he trailsoff.

‘Didit.’

‘Yeah, it. I knew that I was falling for you. I think I knew earlier than that, if I’m being honest. I think I knew that rainy day in the Upper West Side. The day you lost your letter and followed me to the theatre.’

I knew I was falling for you too, I think.

That all seems so long ago now. But still, it makes my heart sing to hear him sayit.

‘I thought you were engaged!’ Seth goes on. ‘I didn’t want to get in any deeper. There I was feeling things about you I never thought I’d feel in my whole life. And you were about to leave to marry Colin Collins.’ He shrugs. ‘It was toomuch.’

I bury my head in my hands, my face turning red. ‘I thought you were trying to get rid of me because I was weird inbed.’

‘Yep.’ Seth laughs and points at the stack of letters in my lap. ‘Birdie told me that too. And I’d like to take this opportunity to officially inform you that my penis was not bruised. It was, in fact, very happy after our encounter.’

‘I’m pleased aboutthat.’

‘Metoo.’

We smile at each other.

‘Wait…’ I ask. ‘How did you know I’d be here? Even Birdie didn’t know I was coming back to NewYork.’

Seth laughs. ‘Actually, shedid.’

‘Huh?’

He takes out the letter at the bottom of the pile, pointing at a paragraph on the secondpage.

I quickly wipe away the tears I can feel running down my face as Iread.

Olive doesn’t know it yet, but she fell in love with New York. She’ll be back, I know it. I have asked her friend Anders to get in touch with you when that happens. And then, if you are single, I want you to take her on an official date. Tell her that when you ask, she has to say yes or else I will haunt her. Not in a sweet gentle ghostly presence way. But in a scary gross way: blood and fangs and throwing things across the room. All that. It will be horrendous.

I burst into noisy, tearful laughter. ‘Oh Birdie!’

‘She seemed like she was one of a kind,’ Seth says gently.

‘She was,’ I say with a heavy heart. ‘She really, reallywas.’

Seth stands up and holds his hand out towards me. I stand up and take it. ‘I am single,’ he murmurs, his face close to mine, his eyes flicking down to my lips. ‘And Birdie was right. You did come back. And so… Olive Maudine Brewster, will you go on an official date withme?’

I laugh some more and give a exaggerated shrug. ‘Well I don’t want to get haunted. So I guess my answeris—’

And then we are kissing. And my whole body, my whole heart is lit up. Seth pulls me closer, his hands weaving through my hair, I push him down on to the sofa and climb onto him like a rabid animal. We kiss breathlessly and it feels insane and amazing and rightand…

‘Ahem!’

‘Olive! No! Not on the antiquesofa!’

Seth and I reluctantly pull apart at the sound of Anders and Mrs Ramirez. They’re standing at the entrance to the living room, bundled back up in their coats and scarves.

I laugh, pulling my clothes into some semblance of respectability. Seth does the same, his cheeks a littlepink.

‘There’s a carol singing service in Gramercy Park,’ Mrs Ramirez tells us happily. ‘Would you like to come withus?’

‘They’re opening the park up to the public for one night only,’ Anders adds. He raises a pale eyebrow, hip cocked. ‘Although I suppose that’s not quite as exciting to you with your stolenkey.’

‘You didn’t return it?” Mrs Ramirez gasps.

I give her an innocent look as I grab my bumbag and coat from the hat stand. Seth wraps his scarf around his neck and takes my hand as the four of us step out into the cold Manhattanair.

As we walk down the city street to cries of ‘Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah!’ from red-cheeked passersby, I peek up at the twinkling festive lights surrounding me, and then across at Seth who runs his thumb suggestively around the palm of my hand, and Anders and Mrs Ramirez who are arguing passionately about what the best holiday songis.

Thisis what I was afraidof?

We enter a snow-covered Gramercy Park, full of happy singers and locals handing out glasses of champagne.

‘Thank you for saving my life, Birdie,’ I whisper under my breath.

And I know that while my best friend might be gone from the world, she will always, always be chilling out right here in my heart. In every moment I live – I truly, outrageously, honestly and bravely live – Birdie Lively will be leading theway.

Because that is Big SexyLove.

@ElissaJohnson

So #excited to be carolling in Gramercy Park today! Not ideal that they’ve opened up the park to the public, but all in the #festivespirit, I suppose! Who else will be there?

THEEND

* * *

DEAR READER

Thank you for reading BIG SEXY LOVE. Did you like it? DID YOU? I hope so. It’s a bit bonkers, right? I loved writing it somuch.

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http://www.kirstygreenwood.com

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