But do I walk to the end of the block or maneuver through the small gap left for me to pass? Do I want to cut through the alley at this hour?
My phone vibrates with another message: When you least expect it.
The passenger car window begins rolling down, causing me to stop in caution and take a step back. Shoving my hand back in my pocket, I position the keys between my fingers. I’m not above scratching the car or someone’s eyes out.
“Want a ride?” Cooper leans toward the open window, grinning wide.
I bounce on the balls of my feet, then run to the car. “What are you doing here?”
He pops the door open for me as the window rises back into place. I slip inside and shut the door quickly behind me. Throwing myself over the console, I practically squeeze the life from him. I’m so happy to see him. The best part—he hugs me just as tight. Peppering my head with kisses, he says, “I’d rather be with you than anywhere else in the world.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I don’t usually consider myself emotional, but he’s struck a chord that leads from his heart to mine. I sit back, grinning like a fool. “What about your family?”
“Well,” he starts, shifting the car into gear. “Let’s just say I had a revelation today.”
“Oh, yeah?” I pull my seat belt on. “What is that?”
Keeping his foot on the brake, he looks me in the eyes. “I’m taking a chance on telling you this, but it’s how I feel. You’re all that I want. I want to be with you, Story. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, have coffee in bed, and just spend the day with you.” Reaching over, he takes my hand and kisses my frozen fingers. I slowly melt into a puddle of swoons when he adds, “Unless you have other plans?”
Laughter bursts my heavier emotions as the tears fall from my eyes. “I do now.”
He releases the brake and slowly pulls out onto the street, hooking a left. I’m so overwhelmed that he wants to be with me that I almost failed to notice his car. While we hold hands over the console, I run my other fingers across the soft tan leather on the door. I’ve rarely seen a car this nice. Riding in one is a first.
He brings my hand to his lips again. “I missed you, babe.” Kissing my hand, he then keeps it against his lips.
“I missed you, too.” Taking another left, he cruises slowly as if savoring the world passing by, or maybe it’s the time with me in his car. He just drove hours through bad weather to come see me, so I’m thinking it’s the latter.
Glancing over, he asks, “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat, but it’s late. Most places are already closed.”
“I know of a place, but it’s a little drive from here.”
So much about Cooper surprises me, and the tradition continues with his visit. “You know of a place we can eat in at midnight on Christmas Eve?”
He nods, blowing the low expectations I had for tonight before he arrived right out of my mind. “I do,” he replies. “You up for an adventure?”
With no doubt in my heart or my head, I’d go anywhere with him tonight, probably anytime, if I’m being honest. “Absolutely.”
His smile grows again. Reaching down, he wiggles my buckle. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone make sure I’m secured. Not even the free spirit that was my mom most days. She always felt society put too many restrictions on kids. Her thinking on this was more the flower child side of her personality. That version of her was better suited for a commune than the small college town of Atterton.
Pulling onto my street, he slows the car as we approach my building. “Do you need anything?”
I think for a moment, but I think I’m set for dinner. “I’m all good.”
He picks up speed again and drives to the end of the block before taking a right toward the highway. “Are you going to tell me where we’re heading, or is it a big secret?” I ask.
“I guess that depends on if you like surprises or not? “
“Surprises aren’t something I’ve had to think about since my mom’s passing.” His hand rubs my thigh over the scar. “She loved them. I came to loathe them, realizing the surprises she enjoyed took me out of school, out of my environment, and away from my friends and my life. But it’s been three years, and I didn’t realize until now how much I missed the excitement and anticipation of surprises.”
His hand returns to the steering wheel. I don’t mind for safety. “I’m glad I can do this for you then,” he says.
I’m not sure what’s come over me. Maybe I’m feeling sentimental now, but I don’t feel afraid to share this with him. “Cooper?”
He glances over before focusing on the road and accelerating onto the highway. “Yeah?”
“I miss my mom.” There’s a heavy pause between us where his eyes find me in the dark of the car. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I drop my head while shaking it. “I don’t know why I just said that.”
“It’s okay, Story.” This time, he reaches over and takes hold of my hand again. “We’re here, just the two of us. You can tell me anything you’re thinking or feeling without judgment.” He kisses the back of my hand as the scruff on his chin scrapes across my skin.
I love the feeling. The prick and pain that follows makes me feel seated back in reality. I’m in the here and now instead of stuck in my memories.
“Do you mind sharing more with me? Or—”
I’m not even sure why this topic is weighing so heavy on my mind, but now that I’ve opened the faucet, I might as well let some of these emotions flow. Maybe they’ll pack themselves away right after I talk about her. “I don’t mind.”
Releasing my hand, he says, “It’s starting to drizzle. I should probably keep both hands on the wheel. But if it wasn’t, I’d still be holding yours.”
“I know.” Maybe I just want my hands on him, and I definitely like the connection, but this time, I reach over and rub his bicep down to his elbow. “I’m so happy to see you, but I feel sad talking about my mom.” My mom’s a tricky topic for me to navigate because of the ending. I pull back and settle in for what I suspect will be a long drive.
“That’s understandable.”
“Christmas was her favorite. We used to have the best time together during the holidays. It’s my favorite too. What about you?”
“I used to love it, but I’m not sure anymore.” His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel and rolls his palm over the leather. “Do you mind if I ask some questions about your mom?”
“I’m not used to opening up about her, so maybe that will make it easier for me.”
It’s not like he rushes into an interrogation, but right away, he asks, “What was your mom’s name?”
“Calliope. She was named after the muse of epic poetry, the one with a beautiful voice.” I hate that I sound like I’m mocking it when I’m not. It’s just weird to voice it to someone else, someone I care about what they think of me. “Rumor has it that it wasn’t her real name. Neither was Salenger.”
“Salenger might not be your name?”
I laugh softly. “No, it’s my name. It’s even on my birth certificate. But I wouldn’t put it past my mom to make up her own rules as she went along.” This is nice so far, better than I thought, freeing even in some small way. “I have a theory.”
“Which is?” he asks, his tone tipping into intrigue.
“Calliope Salenger was a very complex woman. Some days, she wore flowers in her hair. Others, she dressed in all black like she was going to a funeral. Most days, she was caught somewhere between Holly Golightly and Holden Caulfield.”
I hear him hum. “She had good taste in authors. I can’t say I’ve read Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but I can say that I read Salinger’s book. ” He nods as if he’s uncovered treasured secrets. “So you were named after the author?”