Chapter Twenty-Two: Saturday, December 31, 2005, New York City
Simon felt his jaw go slack when he opened the door of Cathy's apartment to find Caroline on the other side. He'd been expecting her, of course. She was there, with her mother and older brother (who cleaned up remarkably well, it turned out), to pick him up for the party. Cathy looked radiant as ever, but also truly elegant in a pale, sequin trimmed gown.
But it was Caroline Simon was focused on, her hair pulled up, the earrings he'd bought her dangling from her ears, her dress a beaded, sequined, black lace and midnight-blue silk Edwardian reproduction. Or maybe it was genuine, Simon wouldn't know the difference. All he knew was that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. "You…you look amazing." Heat crept into his cheeks. "You too," he told Cathy.
She beamed.
Caroline blushed. "You look pretty good yourself."
Simon flashed Cathy a grin. He'd taken her advice and gone with a white bowtie and vest, even though the event was technically "black tie"—apparently a white tie was more formal and, in Cathy's words "very dashing". All he really knew was that he liked the way Caroline looked at him just then.
Cathy ushered Simon and Caroline out onto the balcony to take a few photos of them against the New York skyline; she took a few more inside the apartment, and promised to send Simon copies as soon as she got them printed. Jake waited with silent, somewhat amused-seeming patience. Caroline blushed a little through the ordeal. Simon felt…happy. He liked the way Caroline's mother accepted him as part of Caroline's life, her family.
He decided not to ask about Cathy's husband, Caroline's father. Every time he did, there was some excuse or another—and with each excuse she gave, Caroline seemed to grow a little more uncomfortable around the subject of her father. So, he would let it drop until he finally got to meet the elusive Vincent Wells and wait to meet him on Vincent's schedule.
Outside the apartment building, a limousine stood waiting by the curb. As soon as they exited the building, the driver got out to hold the door; Simon and Jake let Cathy and Caroline enter first. Simon marveled at how poised they both were, how graceful.
How comfortable with limousines and ballgowns….
Caroline took his hand and smiled.
They stopped on the way to pick up Joe, who clearly hated being in a tuxedo, and then Fin and Diana. Like Jake (and Joe, for that matter, although Simon was used to seeing him in a suit), Fin cleaned up well. Diana looked as stunning—and as at home—as Cathy in her gown of emerald velvet.
But no one was more beautiful than the woman who walked in on Simon's arm, when they finally arrived at Jewel Hotel, Elliot Burch's "crown jewel" property here in New York—or so Elliot had called it, during lunch the other day.
It was funny, the way he said made it sound…not quite like a joke, but his tone wasn't filled with the sort of pride Simon would have expected. It was a beautiful piece of property and Elliot had every reason to be proud of it, but listening to Elliot, watching him… he didn't strike Simon as the billionaire land mogul the papers made him out to be. He was entirely too down to earth.
"Just breathe," Caroline advised, as they walked down an entirely-too-long-seeming red carpet, past a gauntlet of reporters, held back by a flimsy red velvet rope. "They're not interested in us, anyway."
Which was true—and a relief. But it made Simon wonder who reporters were there for. Elliot for sure. Probably Amy. Rumors were probably already circulating about whether or not Elliot was still one of New York's eligible bachelors.
Joe Maxwell got a few calls from reporters to turn for a photo, which Simon supposed wasn't a surprise. Being District Attorney made him something of a public figure. They seemed to know who Cathy was, too.
Simon was just as glad to duck inside, even if the hotel's lobby was more lavish and extravagant than anything he'd ever seen in his life. Still decked out for Christmas with pine garland—real pine garland, that made the place smell fresh and festive—green and red bows, hundreds, if not thousands, of twinkling lights.
Caroline gripped his hand. "Breathe," she reminded him again.
He let her lead the way to the grand ballroom, where a band was playing lively swing/twenties' era music and people were mingling, chatting, dancing, drinking. Simon lost track of Jake, but he spotted Lauren chatting with Beryl, Sam and Johnathan talking with someone Simon didn't know. There were a few Tenctonese in the room, he realized—besides just the waiters.
Devin found he and Caroline just then. He hugged his niece and shook Simon's hand. "You look fantastic. Both of you."
"Thanks," Simon told him. With a nervous flutter in his stomach, Simon drew Caroline aside, to the closest thing he could find to a quiet corner.
"What's the matter?" she asked, even though he hadn't said anything.
Simon almost wished he drank—and that he was old enough to drink—because a drink might help calm his nerves. "Nothing. I just… being with you, the last week, meeting more of your family, your friends…it's been…you're amazing."
"Why do I sense a 'but' coming," she said, her tone full of trepidation.
"It's not…I'm not…" Did she think he wanted to break up? Or…whatever you called it when you weren't really dating but didn't want to keep on not-dating…. "I'm just…I can't help wondering what you see in me."
"What?"
"Caroline, look around us. Look at yourself. Look at me."
She looked confused.
"Caroline, I'm in a rented tux. If I weren't a guest of your uncle's, I would never be able to attend an event like this." He didn't know what tickets went for, but he could imagine. "I'm a preacher's kid. You…your mother…your family…." But Fin and Diana weren't billionaires. Joe wasn't either. He didn't know how all the dots connected and they made him feel like he was part of them, but the all the things Matt had said the other day came creeping in and he wondered if she was going to change her mind about him. "It just seems like you could have someone better than me. Or at least someone you could take to prom or homecoming or whatever. If you even want to do those things."
"I don't," she said firmly. "In fact, I'm thinking about dropping out of school as soon as I turn sixteen. I want to get my GED, or maybe go back to home schooling."
"You really hate it, don't you?" It was only barely a question.
"Some days I want scream at all of them to go away and leave me alone—but then they'd just say I was stuck up."
"You're not stuck up."
She smiled. "But you, the thing is, if I drop out, you don't need to worry about whether or not you're someone I could take to prom, even though, for the record, you are and I would."
He almost laughed. Forget the age difference; he had nothing in common with the kinds of with the people she went to school with. "Caroline, tell me the truth. Do I fit into your world?"
She took half a step back, suddenly so startled he wanted to take back the question. Then, she blinked, her shoulders seemed to lose tension—but her brows knit together in anger. "Do you think this is my world? Ballgowns and galas?"
"Maybe?"
"I thought you knew me better than that."
"I do…I think." He knew he was sinking fast. "Honestly, I don't always know what to think. I know what I want. But I don't know…I don't know if you want the same things and even if you do, I'm not sure it's fair to ask you to hold out for someone like me. I would never make that decision for you," he added quickly. "I just…I guess I'm asking you to think about it. I'm asking you to be honest with yourself. With me."
Much to Simon's relief, Caroline stepped closer again and took his hands in hers. "You're not completely wrong about ballgowns and galas. This is…was…my mother's world. It's how she grew up. How she lived much of her life. It's who some of her friends still are. I guess because of that, it's my world too, a little. But it's not everything, Simon. It's the tiniest fraction of who, of what, I am."
The band slowed the tempo on the next piece.
"Dance with me?" Caroline asked.
Simon took her hand and led her out to the dance floor. He wasn't very good at grown-up slow dancing—really he didn't know anything besides the "high school shuffle" when it came to couple's dancing—but he watched the way the men around him laid a hand on their date's lower backs, how they held their partner's other hands. He'd watched his parents dance a few times, and he remembered when the pool hall had that country-western night. The music was different, but the theory seemed similar. If Caroline found him wanting in any way, she didn't let on. Despite everything, they fell into easy sync with one another. She laid her head on his shoulders; he could imagine she'd shut her eyes. For a few moments nothing else mattered, no one else existed, it was just the two of them. In that moment, Simon found himself imagining what it would feel like to dance with her like this as they took the floor for their first dance as husband wife, surrounded by friends and family…what it would feel like to slow dance the night away on their first anniversary, their second…at their children's weddings…their grandchildren's….
"You're so far away," Caroline said softly as the song ended. She looked up at him, her gaze searching.
"No, I'm not. I'm right here. Right where I want to be."
She put her arms around him, and he held her a long moment. "I'm where I want to be too," she said.
….
At 11:30, Elliot and Amy made their big announcement. Applause erupted throughout the room; there were a few loud few whoops and whistles, and one loud "CONGRATULATIONS!" that made Elliot laugh and Amy blush.
Next to him, Caroline gave his hand a little squeeze. "Come on. We need to get our coats."
"What? Why? It's almost midnight."
She flashed a mischievous grin. "That's why."
He allowed her to tug him, not to the coat check up front, but to a rear service door, where a waiter, wearing a grin similar to Caroline's, greeted her by name and wished her a Happy New Year, while holding the door for them. Caroline led them back through the kitchen, where their coats were hanging up with several others by a rear service entrance. As they passed through, several employees wished them a Happy New Year. One of them told them they'd better hurry up, her mother was already "up there".
"Caroline—?" Simon asked, bemused, even as he helped her on with her coat.
"You'll see. Come on." She took him to a service elevator, to the top floor, down a long hall, through a door marked "Employees Only", up a staircase, and finally out onto the roof, where they had a perfect view of Times Square.
Joe, Cathy, Fin, Diana, Devin, Robbie, the Hancocks, Lauren, and Jake were already there, chatting. Laughing.
"You remember Kate, don't you?" Caroline asked, as the dark girl drifted out of the shadows to join them, seemingly conjured out of darkness by the sound of her name.
"Yeah. It's…it's good to see you again." He was never quite sure if he should shake her hand—or even touch her at all.
"Likewise, Sunshine." She looked like something out of either a dream or a nightmare (Simon couldn't quite be sure which) in a gown of layered ebony lace that gave him the impression of layered cobwebs. Around her neck on a silver chain hung a small pendant in the shape of an angel, but it wasn't the usual cherub type. Rather, the figure was of a fierce warrior, wings outstretched, a spear in his hands, poised to attack.
"Your necklace…it's…unusual."
"Or perhaps completely usual," she countered—then her smiled warmed a little. "It was a gift from Caroline's parents, on the anniversary of the day we met."
"Our guardian angel." Catherine had walked over. She was smiling. She handed Simon and Caroline each a half-glass of champagne (everyone else already had a glass either of champagne or sour milk in hand). Catherine extended her hand to Kate, who took it without hesitation. They exchanged a look; Simon couldn't identify it, but it seemed…deep. Significant.
He was about to ask how long they'd known Kate, because there was so much that didn't add up, when the door opened again, and Elliot and Amy joined them.
"You almost missed it," Cathy teased.
"It was hard to get away." Elliot leaned in and kissed her cheek. He laid a hand on Kate's shoulder. They had a brief, silent moment together—then he stepped back, took Amy's hand again, and kissed it. She beamed with joy, the way she had downstairs.
The way she always seemed to when Elliot was around.
Elliot caught Simon smiling at them, and grinned back at Simon. Simon could see in the man's eyes how happy he was.
How much he wants that for Caroline and…me.
Elliot leaned in and kissed Caroline's cheek. He gave Simon's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you were able to make out to be with us this year," he told Simon. "I'm looking forward to…." He glanced at Caroline, who was blushing deep pink. "To seeing you at many more family gatherings."
"Thank you, sir," Simon told him.
"It's starting!" Devin announced, waving everyone over towards the edge of the rooftop.
Glasses of champagne and sour milk were refilled quickly, and everyone gathered near the ledge, where Kate had taken up a precarious perch. Below them, Times Square was abuzz, laughter carrying up all the way to the rooftops as the ball began to lower.
Simon put his arm around Caroline's shoulder as the countdown began, both on the rooftop and Times Square far below, excitement and anticipation mounting. At last, the ball reached the bottom of the spire and fireworks lit up the sky. Simon smiled down at Caroline, the colors in the sky reflecting against her face, making her—making everything in that moment—seem more magical than ever. Below, cheers rang out and confetti filled the square; around them on the rooftop, there were laughter and hugs, clinking glasses, kisses on cheeks and on lips. For half a second, Simon was tempted—sorely tempted—but then someone began singing "Auld Lang Syne" and Simon obligingly joined in, even though he barley knew the words and couldn't have carried a tune if it had handles.
At last, things calmed. Lyla and Sam ushered Johnathan back inside where it was warmer. Robbie and Devin followed behind them, Lauren on their heels.
Simon drew Caroline away from the remainder of the group. Neither of them had said a word about their earlier conversation. "I was trying to tell you something. Before. When we first got here."
She nodded. Her gaze flicked downwards.
Simon placed a knuckle gently under he chin and tilted her face up; she was trembling. "I could fall in love you so easily, Caroline."
Her breath caught. "What's stopping you?"
"I'm afraid."
"That you don't fit in with what you think is my world?" Her eyes reminded him of the Pacific during a thunderstorm, a turmoil of greys and blues. He could almost hear the thunder, see the lightning.
"That's part of it," he admitted.
"You think I'm too young."
"A little."
"Do you think I…?" Her voice trailed off. It was like she wanted to say something, but didn't know how—or maybe she just didn't want to say it. All Simon knew for sure was that the silence between them was anything but comfortable.
Gingerly, not sure whether she would let him, he took her hands in his. He rubbed his thumbs against her skin. She was still quivering. It wasn't the cold. He didn't know what it was. All he could do was plough forward and hope she understood. "What I'm afraid of is that when you go away to college, whether it's here in New York, or Radcliff, or Harvard, wherever you end up, you're going meet all these terrific guys, guys who are going to see you for how beautiful, how truly amazing you are. There are going to be guys there who can offer you more than I ever will. You should know—you need to know—I've decided I want to go into teaching and teachers don't make a lot of money."
"You think I care about money?"
"No." It was the truth. "But you still need to know because…because what I was saying before, it wasn't really about who you take to prom with you or whether or not I fit in at a place like this. Your family has done nothing but make me feel welcome."
"Then what is it?"
"I'm afraid you're going to outgrow me before you even turn eighteen."
"Simon." Caroline studied him a long, hard moment, a thousand indecipherable emotions playing out across her face. "You said before that you didn't know what I saw in you. Let me tell you. I see honesty. I see integrity. I see compassion. I see thoughtfulness. I see someone I hope I'm able to share the deepest parts of myself with someday. Someone who really will be a part of my world, because this, here, above…this isn't it. This isn't who I am. I'm a part of this place, but…but this isn't me."
"I—"
She cut him off. "We should go back inside. It's getting late."
He looked up and realized they were the last two people standing out on the rooftop. He opened the door—then stopped, just inside it. "Caroline, I…I hope I haven't said anything to offend you or upset you. Or if I have, I hope it's nothing we can't come back from."
She worried at her lower lip for a moment. "It's not just you. The bulk of it doesn't really have anything to do with you at all. I haven't told my parents I want to test out of high school, yet. I don't know how they'll take it and I guess I'm afraid to find out."
"I'm sure they'll support you." He hadn't met her father, but it was hard to imagine Catherine being anything but supportive. It was hard to imagine her married to someone who someone who wouldn't support Caroline through anything, as well.
"I feel as if I've let them down," she admitted. "I feel like I've let myself down. I was so stubborn about wanting to go to that school. So stubborn about sticking it out no matter what. I just…I can't do it anymore."
"Did something happen?" he wanted to know. She'd told him often enough how she didn't feel as if she fit in, how she felt no one there really liked her, but this seemed different. Deeper.
Caroline shook her head. "It's nothing. Just a ridiculous prank. Please don't tell my mother I said anything. Or anyone else for that matter. I don't want them to worry, and I want to tell my parents in my own time and in my own way that I'm giving up."
"I won't. But…just in case no one's ever told you, it's okay to give up on something that isn't working."
She reached for his hand. "Thank you for being my friend, Simon Camden."
Under almost any other circumstances, the word "friend" might have felt ominous, but coming from Caroline, it felt right. It felt good. They were friends.
They were friends who held hands.
Friends who held each other close.
Friends who stood on the doorstep of her mother's apartment wrapped up in a warm embrace that Simon never wanted to be free from.
"You really could let me walk you home for a change," Simon told her, when she finally stepped back from him.
"It's not far."
"That's what you keep telling me."
She laughed then. "Sorry. Just something Amy says about how every you ask someone…someone in my family how far something is, the answer is always 'not far' and sometimes 'not far' turns out to be considerably further than she's used to walking."
"I've noticed that about New York."
Caroline smiled up at him for a long moment. Then she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Happy New Year, Simon. I… I hope someday you'll overcome your fear. I understand where it's coming from. And truly, there's still so much you don't know about me. So much you can't know, not yet. But one thing I want you to know for sure is that no matter where I go or who I meet, no one is going to be able to compete with you and nothing is going to change the way I feel about you."
His heart thumped so hard, he was sure the whole world could hear it. "Caroline—"
She pressed her fingertips to his lips. "What you're afraid to feel, I already feel. I have felt." She stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He nodded dumbly. She felt what he was afraid to feel…what he did feel, but was afraid to admit because…I love you…. "Tomorrow," Simon echoed.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…and then home.
No. California.
A place which was feeling less like home with every passing moment.
He watched Caroline disappear into the elevators and wondered, yet again, where she went when she left him.
