Chapter 20 – Annabeth

The sound of the doorbell was still echoing around the house. It was Luke.

Annabeth checked her watch. Seven o'clock. He was right on time, as usual.

She took one last look in the mirror, and then blushing at her own vanity, she tore herself away and hurried off to the door.

"Happy Thanksgiving."

The both said it at the same time – at the moment that Annabeth opened the door and saw Luke standing there, grinning his Luke grin.

They said it and immediately broke out laughing – partly because of how their minds work the same way, but mostly because it wasn't really Thanksgiving. At least not as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

To the rest of the world, it was just a plain old Saturday night. But Annabeth and Luke had their own ideas on the subject. They wanted to spend Thanksgiving together, but Annabeth's parents invited her Uncle Nicky and Aunt Linda and her twelve-year-old cousin, Maddy, over from New York City for the day. And Luke and his parents always spent their Thanksgiving with his grandparents at their place in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

So there was no way.

Until they came up with the idea of celebrating their own personal Thanksgiving, a few days earlier than everybody else celebrated theirs.

They had a lot to be thankful for.

"Is that for me?"

"Oh," said Luke, "Yeah." He'd forgotten that he'd brought Annabeth a flower – a perfect red rose. He had forgotten because he was so blown away by how terrific Annabeth looked.

Annabeth saw how blown away Luke was, and as she accepted the rose from him, she thought that just the look on his face made all the trouble she'd gone to worthwhile.

It was a dress that Annabeth would never be caught dead in a few months ago. It was silky and slinky. Dark grey to match her eyes, it had a cinched waist and a slit that went up to the side, almost to her hip, and a hem that fell just above her knee. With her black stockings, spiked heels and iron-straight hair, Annabeth looked like she was ready to hit the clubs of New York City.

It didn't matter to Annabeth how she looked; it was how she looked to Luke that really mattered to her. It was Luke she dressed for, and she could tell that he liked the way she'd dressed for him by the way he was standing there, undressing her with his eyes.

She lifted the perfect red rose and inhaled its musky sweet perfume and looked into Luke's funny-sad eyes. "Beautiful," she said.

Looking to Annabeth's eyes, Luke nodded and said, "Yes, you are."

He helped her on with her coat, waited while she locked up, walked her to the car and held the door for her as she climbed inside.

She watched him cross around the front of the car and thought about making love to him. Ever since that night in Thalia's tree house, it is all she ever thought about.

Should she?

Shouldn't she?

She wished she had someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, Grover was about as experienced as she was in the romance department. Well, before Luke, that is. Katie and Lily have had a few boyfriends, but Annabeth is not sure just how serious those relationships were. And, as much as she does not want to admit this out loud, she doesn't really talk to the anymore. This thought is very unsettling to her, but every time she tries to make plans with her old friends, or even call them, Luke comes between them.

It's all Luke. All the time.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Always," she answered.

"Thirsty?"

"I will be by the time we get there."

"Horny?"

"Drive!" she said.

He laughed. Then, as if he were some semi-punk James Bond, he glanced over at her, lifted one suave eyebrow, and crooned, "My place?"

As blasé as she could be, Annabeth glanced over at Luke, sighed as if she couldn't care less, and said "That was the plan, wasn't it?"

James Bond smiled and nodded. "My place, then," he said. He started up the car, squealed out of the driveway, and zoomed off in the direction of his house.

That was the plan – Thanksgiving for two at Luke's house.

It was the plan that Luke and Annabeth had come up with when Luke's parents announced they were spending the weekend in Atlanta. Luke's dad is a fanatical runner and he was running in a race that weekend. They were also looking into the possibility of opening a branch of Traveler's Gourmet, which was the family business.

The really terrific thing about Luke's parents taking off for the weekend was the fact that Annabeth's parents were taking the off for the weekend, too.

Annabeth's father and stepmother were going into New York City to see a show with Annabeth's Uncle Nicky and Aunt Linda, and after the show they were planning to spend the night in the guest room of her uncle's rambling Fifth Avenue apartment.

Which meant, for their own personal Thanksgiving, Annabeth and Luke had Luke's house all to themselves and all night long to celebrate.

Luke was taking care of everything. He was playing host, chef and chairman of the entertainment and cleanup committees. All that Annabeth had to do was be ready when Luke came to pick her up at seven – which she'd been.

As they raced along the road, just to put them in the Thanksgiving frame of mind, Luke turned on his iPod and played the "Thanksgiving Song" by Adam Sandler.

They were laughing and singing along a few minutes later, when Luke pulled into the driveway that curved around a rolling lawn and climbed the landscaped parking circle at the back of Luke's beautiful fieldstone, cedar and glass house.

"Be it ever so humble," said Luke, as he pulled the car to a stop.

Annabeth had never been to Luke's house before. "It's amazing." she said, as she climbed out of the car.

The house harmonized so perfectly with its surroundings, it seemed to have grown right up out of the hilltop it commanded.

As Luke showed Annabeth to the door, he joked about carrying her over the threshold.

"Is that a proposal?" Annabeth asked him.

Luke smiled and shook his head. "I'm too young to die," he said.

"Then I'll walk," said Annabeth.

Luke opened the door for her.

Inside, the house was like the warmest, most comfortable ski lodge or mountain hideaway you could imagine. Although it was beautifully furnished and richly decorated, there was nothing at all standoffish about it.

"I love it," said Annabeth.

"Champagne?" asked Luke.

Annabeth shrugged. "If it was good enough for the Pilgrims," she said.

Luke laughed and showed Annabeth into the den.

It was a great room – a glassed-in porch, extending out into a backyard that was landscaped like a Japanese garden, with little white stones and huge boulders, evergreen shrubs and trembling groves of white birch.

Luke lifted the bottle of champagne from a silver ice bucket, wrapped a towel around it so it would not drip, popped the cork and poured the pale and effervescing wine into two delicate, narrow-stemmed glasses.

He handed Annabeth her glass and lifted his for a toast. Looking into Annabeth's eyes, he said, "To the one and only Annabeth Chase."

He clinked his glass with hers. "From the bottom of my heart," he said, "thank you."

Annabeth was so happy, she blushed. "Any time."

They drank.

Feeling the champagne buzzing, bittersweet and chilly, on her tongue, Annabeth closed her eyes and tried to memorize the sensation and the perfect moment of which it was a part.

"Help yourself to the hors d'oeuvres," said Luke. "I need a second in the kitchen."

"Can't I help?"

"Uh-huh," said Luke. "It's a surprise."

"It isn't turkey?"

"I didn't say that. Here something to soothe your weary mind." He walked over to the stereo and pushed a button. Music poured out of the speakers that were strategically placed throughout the room.

He smiled at Annabeth, and then he was gone.

Annabeth was sitting on the plush sofa when she heard her phone give a little ping in her purse. Pulling it out, she saw the text from Grover. Hanging with K, L & gang. U want 2 join?

A part of her heart melted when she saw the text. Oh how she missed them! Maybe she could convince Luke to meet with up them after dinner. Her fingers were posed to type a quick reply when –

"Grub," Luke announced.

Annabeth let her phone fall back into her purse, her purse fall back onto the sofa and then followed Luke into the dining room.

There were more roses on the table.

And turkey – thin slices of turkey breast, baked and topped with prosciutto ham and melted cheese.

"Wow," said Annabeth, "Remind me to never cook for you."

They ate – the turkey, the asparagus in a white buttery sauce, the plump potato gnocchi, the perfectly dressed green salad, and for dessert, fresh raspberries in heavy cream.

They drank – red wine for Luke and grape juice for Annabeth, who'd poured herself a second glass of champagne while she was waiting and couldn't imagine feeling any better than she did.

They talked.

"Can I sing?" asked Luke.

"You mean now?" asked Annabeth.

Luke laughed. "I mean in a play. On a stage."

"I don't know," said Annabeth.

"I can carry a tune," he said.

"Yeah," said Annabeth. "But how far?"

"That's what I'm asking you,"

"Why?"

Luke shrugged. "Because somebody wants me to be in a musical. To audition for a musical," he said. "The Fantasticks. Ever heard of it?"

"Sure. I saw it. In New York," said Annabeth. "Who?"

"Angelina Reed."

Annabeth recognized the name. Angelina Reed was the head of the Westport Players, which was a community theater group that did a couple of shows a year in the theater at the Holymount School. Annabeth could not remember them ever doing a musical before. "They're doing The Fantasticks?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Luke. "She called me. She saw me in The Philadelphia Story and she thought, if I could sing, I might make a good El Gallo."

"She's right," said Annabeth. "If you're not too young for it. How old is she casting the girl?"

"I didn't ask her."

"I guess she must have somebody pretty young in mind."

Luke shrugged. "I downloaded the music from iTunes," he said.

"Then you're going to do it?"

"I don't know," said Luke. "I don't know if I can. Or if they'll want me to, after they hear me sing. I guess it'd be good to get the experience, though. I've only done one play."

"Not counting the Christmas Pageant," said Annabeth.

Luke laughed.

"El Gallo's a juicy part," said Annabeth.

"I know," said Luke. "I bought the book from Amazon."

"He's got some great songs."

Luke cleared his throat. "Want to hear one?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Okay," he said. "You wait here." He pushed his chair back from the table, rose, and walked out of the dining room and back into the den.

Annabeth had a million thoughts.

She was really happy for Luke.

She was happy that other people were starting to see him the way she saw him – not as the allusive class prankster, but as the appealing and really attractive young man, who might easily play the dashing hero of a young girl's dreams.

She was happy for herself, too.

She was proud of the role she'd played in discovering the real Luke underneath the jokester and of the part she'd played in getting him the recognition that was starting to come his way.

But she wasn't really happy about his being in this new play. Not completely.

Because, to be completely honest about it, if Luke was going to be in this new play, he'd have to spend a lot of time rehearsing for it, which meant he'd have a lot less time to spend with her.

She was really unhappy about that.

But she wasn't about to let Luke know that.

Not now or ever.

She wasn't that selfish and she wasn't that stupid.

She would encourage Luke to be all that he could be and hope that whatever else he would be, he would always be hers.

That's what she was thinking when she heard the music come pouring out of the den.

Then, there was Luke. Or rather, there was El Gallo. Because when Luke next appeared, entering through the door to the kitchen, he'd transformed himself into somebody Annabeth had never seen before.

Gazing out at her from under the floppy brim of a black Borsalino hat, Annabeth saw a handsome rogue, an experienced man of the world, who called himself El Gallo.

Reminded that Luke could transform himself, so quickly and so completely, into someone else, someone she barely recognized, Annabeth felt a little thrill of excitement and fear.

Try to remember the kind of September

When life was slow and oh, so mellow…

As he sang, Annabeth fell under El Gallo's spell. Like the girl in the play – Luisa? – she felt drawn to this handsome young stranger, she was ready to abandon the life she knew and follow him happily wherever he led her.

When the song was over, when El Gallo removed his hat with a sweeping gesture and bent his knee in a graceful bow, Annabeth is so deeply enchanted; it took her a long moment to remember where she was.

Then, as the hatless Luke looked up at her from out of his deep bow, she said "You'll be wonderful."

Luke beamed. "You think they'll take me?" he asked.

"They'd be crazy if they didn't."

"I don't know," said Luke. "I don't know if I could do it. Without you. Directing me."

"You could," said Annabeth. "You don't need me."

Luke grinned. "Oh, yes I do!" he said.

"As a director," said Annabeth. "When does it go on?"

"December eleventh."

"In three weeks?"

"Three weeks from tonight."

"That's not much time."

"I know."

"That means you'd have a pretty heavy rehearsal schedule."

"Yeah. I know," said Luke. "After school, every day. And all day on the weekends."

"But we'd still have Friday and Saturday nights," said Annabeth. "Wouldn't we?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Luke. "But that's not much time."

It was practically no time at all, as far as Annabeth was concerned. But she shrugged as if it didn't bother her and she looked Luke up and down and she smiled and said, "I guess you are worth waiting for."

Luke smiled. "Have I told you how much I love you?" he asked.

"Not tonight," she told him.

Sometime, just before dawn, Annabeth awakened to the sound of music. For a moment, she thought she must be dreaming, but no, she was awake and there was music playing and someone singing – Luke!

The first light of day was seeping in through the window as she climbed out of bed. Borrowing one of Luke's shirts, she pulled it on and walked out onto the balcony overlooking Luke's living room.

There in the living room below her, she saw him.

Standing before a wall of mirrors that threw his image back at him, wearing only his boxers and his black Borsalino hat, Luke was singing:

Deep in December, it's nice to remember,

Although you know the snow will follow.

Deep in December, it's nice to remember,

Without a hurt the heart is hollow…

He didn't see Annabeth, standing on the balcony, above him.

Deep in December, it's nice to remember

The fire of September that made us mellow…

If he had looked, he might not have seen her.

Deep in December, our hearts should remember

And follow…

Before he'd finished, she was gone.

Follow, follow, follow.

A/N: Not sure what to write today my dear readers. Just know that the next chapter is going to be quite interesting indeed.

I know I say this every time, but thank you so much for continuing to read and support this story. Its been truly amazing.

Until the next chapter...

Enjoy and Happy Reading - MFP