Chapter 24

Twenty-Fou r

HENRY

The embers of the fire flicker while I look at my home in a new light, wondering what it will be like to have Lucy in my personal space. I’ve been to her apartment twice now, but I have a sense it will feel different when I have her here.

“Henry?” a voice breaks me out of my daydreams. “What are your thoughts on the sketches from the designer?”

Working remotely seemed like the best option for me to get back home as soon as possible, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate on the meetings as I prepare for my family’s arrival.

“Yes, I looked them over briefly, but will review them in more detail this evening.” I don’t understand why Viewmont is so insistent about holding meetings this week—more than half the people on the call are already at their holiday destinations. Thankfully, we only have two more days of this then break until after the New Year.

“All right, is there anything else we need to address?” Tom, the rep for Viewmont, asks, and thankfully, everyone shakes their heads. Certainly, I’m not the only one who is eager to get off this call. “All right, enjoy the rest of your day. We will reconvene tomorrow morning.”

I shut the laptop and leave it on the end table. I always look forward to this time of year. I enjoy my privacy and peace but it’s nice to have guests once in a while. It reminds me of when the boys were little. Now one of them is proposing, and it’s such an honor he decided to do it here.

I look over the schedule Oliver sent again. They are planning to arrive Saturday, stay until the twenty-fifth, and then go their separate ways to visit Mia and Hannah’s families, then reconvene while they visit with the boys’ mother and come back here on the thirtieth to set final preparations for the proposal on the thirty-first. While they are away, I’ll pick up Lucy from the airport on the twenty-sixth.

Anticipation and excitement fill my body at the thought of having a few days with her alone. I planned to spend more time thinking about the possibility of a relationship, but work has consumed most waking hours since I last saw her. I need to think this through before she arrives.

Is a relationship something I want again?

I was sure it was something I never wanted to experience again, but now. These feelings are challenging that stance, but can I be a good partner to her?

That’s if she’s even interested in a relationship herself.

Thursday afternoon finally arrives, and I close the laptop, place it in its carrier bag, and leave it in my study with no intention of opening it again until January third.

While preparing the house for my guests, I’ve let my mind wander to thoughts of what a relationship with Lucy could be like.

She has never voiced a desire for a real relationship. In fact, she’s stayed firm in the idea of only allowing herself to care for fictional men.

As much as I hate to admit defeat, I suppose it’s time to consult the only hopeless romantic I know, Max. For someone who lives for the love stories we create on the screen, he’s never been able to give himself a second chance at love.

I grab my phone and call him. After a few rings and a quick hello, Max asks, “Henry, how are preparations for the holiday going? Do you need another recipe?”

“Things are going well. How are you? Are the girls in town yet?”

“Yes, they arrived yesterday, and it’s so nice to have them home again.”

“I know what you mean. I was just thinking about how much the holidays remind me of when they were all little. It’s nice to have them under my roof again. Especially being removed from the hassle of the city.”

“Well put, Henry. What can I do for you?”

I pause, trying to find the words to express this…confusion that has now taken residence in my head. “I may need another recipe, or a grand gesture idea, or advice.”

“Well, it’s about time, my friend. ”

“No need to gloat,” I tell him—maybe this is a bad idea.

“Not gloating, simply happy for you. Is Lucy coming to stay with you over the holidays?”

“Yes, but only for New Year’s. She is spending Christmas back home with her family.”

“Where is Lucy at in all of this? Does she know about your feelings?” he asks.

“I don’t even know what my feelings are. I just know for the first time since my marriage, I’m considering getting into another relationship, and it terrifies me. What if I don’t remember how to be a good partner? This leads my mind down the road of if I was a better partner, I would probably still be married. If I were to get into a relationship again, would it end the same way?”

“You’re overthinking this, friend,” Max says. “And because you are giving it so much thought—tells me you care about her.”

“Of course, I care. She’s become the person I want to speak with as soon as I wake up and before I go to bed. Every time my phone rings, I hope it’s her calling.”

“Henry…”

“I don’t know if she wants this to be more than the friendship it’s developed into. When we met she had cited a breakup as one of the reasons for moving to another country and declared she had no intention of getting into another relationship. What if I do something foolish, and things grow distant between us, and it turns out badly?” I ask, and don’t let him answer before confessing, “She deserves the best.”

“Then give her your best. ”

His words hit me like a tidal wave. “That simple, huh?”

“Yes, when you love someone, which I think you may be on your way to, if you’re not already, it is that simple. You are a different man than you were twenty-five years ago, for many reasons, but most importantly, you are a different man since meeting her.”

My life has changed since meeting her in that coffee shop. Not only is my career resuming thanks to her, but I’m happier now than I was before. For years, I was content, but now it’s as if the sun has come back out, and each day is enjoyable because I can share it with her.

Max continues, “If this is a chance at love, don’t you dare let it pass you by.” I owe it to myself to try. Max’s belief in the idea of love has never weakened, it’s such a shame he just doesn’t expect it for himself.

“And if she isn’t interested in a relationship with me?” I ask now, fearful of those words becoming truth.

“Then you love her in whatever role she needs you in her life. Don’t let that love die. It can always grow into something more.”

I like this idea of being whatever it is Lucy needs me to be and fill any roles she needs me to fill in her life. It’s a soothing way to look at this entire situation, taking the pressure off of me. I just need to be here for her.

And perhaps it will turn into something more.

“Thank you, Max.”

“I’m always only a call away, Henry.”

We both hang up and after a few minutes of absorbing his words, they have calmed my worries about Lucy’s visit.

Friday begins with a call from Oliver. “Morning, Pop.”

“Oliver, everything set for tomorrow?” I ask.

“That’s why I’m calling. There’s been a change to the plan.” I didn’t check the weather—could he be stuck in London, or did he change his mind about coming out? He continues, “Hannah spoke with Lucy last night.”

My heart stops. “Is she all right?” I ask, hearing the panic in my voice. I spoke to her yesterday, but she didn’t mention anything.

“Nothing to fear, Pop, she’s doing well. There is a bad snow storm hitting New York, and she’s decided not to travel. She’s staying in London for Christmas.”

She’s able to come tomorrow.

I smile as I ask, “She’s coming with you tomorrow then?”

“Well, I tried to insist, but she is proving a little difficult to convince, worried she would be intruding on our family holiday.”

“She’d rather be alone in her apartment?”

“I don’t think that’s it. I just think she’s trying to be polite.”

“I’ll take care of this,” I insist. “She’ll travel with you then?”

“Yeah, we were planning to bring two cars anyway with all the luggage and gifts. We have plenty of room,” he assures me.

“All right, I’ll speak with her and you can let her know what time you’ll be picking her up, yes?”

“Yea. Pop?” he asks. “What’s going on with you two? Anything we should know about?” I can’t give him the truth. I don’t want any external pressures or assumptions surrounding us over the next few days. Once everyone else leaves, I’ll try to get an idea of where she stands with the idea of us.

“She’s one of your friends and has been particularly helpful to me with this movie deal business. Also, I’m not a complete grinch. I wouldn’t wish anyone to spend Christmas alone.”

“And that’s it?” he asks again.

At least in this, I can answer honestly. “That’s it.”

For now.

After hanging up with Oliver, I ring Lucy. A photo of us taken by the paparazzi outside that bar pops up on the screen. It’s my favorite of the shots, with us both looking into each other’s eyes.

“Hello,” she answers.

“Hello, Lucy. I just heard from Oliver.”

“Oh?” She pauses. “How is he?” She’s playing coy.

“Wonderful, he’s very pleased that you’ll be joining us at my home for the holidays even earlier than planned. As am I.”

She lets out an exasperated breath. “Henry, I don’t want you to think I invited myself. I decided to cancel my trip but didn’t want to crash Christmas with your family. I will be perfectly fine staying in London.”

“You’re coming,” I say, no opening for her to argue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hear her begin to argue, “But Henry, that’s not necessar—” as I hang up on her.

Oliver and Finn each picked a permanent bedroom when I purchased this property. When Hannah joined, she practically took over Oliver’s room. She’s made herself so much at home. He’s lucky she still lets him sleep there. As for Mia, she was thrilled when she saw the view from Finn’s bedroom window. She always says she stays up too late when she’s looking out at the small town lit up at night.

Everything is prepared for them. Oliver’s favorite toothpaste is waiting in their bathroom, Finn’s crackers are in his nightstand drawer, Mia’s nightstand drawer is filled with gummy bears, and lastly, I left Hannah a bag of her favorite chocolates by her night lamp.

Lucy will stay in the remaining guest room that is unfortunately located the furthest from my bedroom. I couldn’t very well give her a room the others are accustomed to utilizing, but it does bother me a little. I like to have her near me. Perhaps this distance will be good for us while she’s staying.

I’ve already straightened up her room like I did for the others, but I look around to see where I can add more personal touches for her without it being too obvious. There’s a bookshelf in here, and I’ve already moved my Jane Austen books onto it from my office. I also added other books I’ve read recently that I think she may enjoy.

My attention turns to the bed. Images of her in bed start innocent enough but quickly move to images of the two of us tangled in each other’s bodies. The memory of her perfume fills my mind. What it must be like to share a bed with her, consumed by her warmth and scent.

That gives me an idea. I quickly run to my room and return with my cologne. Holding her pillow at arm’s length, I lightly spritz the cologne on the pillow and then repeat the action with the bed’s comforter.

I smile to myself at the thought of her trying to sleep, being tortured like I will be on the other side of the house.

After returning the cologne to my bathroom, I sit on my bed and attempt to settle my nerves. She’ll be here tomorrow. I feel like a child waiting for Father Christmas.