Chapter Three

It felt like the longest day, though it was hardly 1PM. She attended two long meetings that morning already, back to back, both in the same building, so on top of her exhaustion she was beginning to feel somewhat claustrophobic as well. When she wasn't in a meeting, she was on the phone with the theater back home, where things were always hectic even between productions. Her desk in the tiny office she'd been assigned was full of reports she still had to review before the next day's meetings. The mess of paperwork reminded her of Joanne. She had always teased her about her never-ending work, and the long hours she used to keep during an important case. It was her second home, if not the first one, at times. Now she understood what it must have been like for Joanne. Now she regretted not being more patient.

She had a five-minute break before her next engagement, a lunch meeting with some of the higher-ups. She stood by the window and looked at the street below. Her office was on the 22nd floor, high above Bryant Park, and the Empire State Building towered majestically right in front of her. Everything looked so tiny from up there, covered with snow. A make-believe city. Toy cabs and toy trees and toy people… it looked like a child's game.

She wondered what Libby was up to. She knew she could trust Robin to take her someplace nice; she just wished she could do it herself. Manhattan had so much to offer the first-time visitor, particularly around Christmas time. She wanted to take her to see a Broadway show, something her own parents used to do long ago when she was a child. Maybe she would make an exception and use her connections to get them last minute tickets someplace. She also toyed with the idea of taking a few days off before heading home. She could definitely use some relaxation time before plunging back to work at home.

Sending away the thoughts of home, she reached for her cell phone on her desk and looked at it thoughtfully. It was working just fine. Of course it did, it was silly to think otherwise. If he didn't contact her until now, he probably wouldn't, and that was that. She placed the phone back on the desk with certain resignation. If she was being honest, it rather upset her. She really wanted to see him again. She thought he did too, given the final moments of their encounter. Her kiss, his invitation… It gave her hope, but she guessed he must have thought better of it. He probably didn't want anything to do with her, and she couldn't really blame him. She hurt him endlessly in the past. He probably didn't want to get himself in trouble all over again. But couldn't he see she had changed? Or maybe it wasn't as obvious as she believed?

A knock came on the door, shaking her out of her reverie. In peeked Lynn, assistant for the convention coordinator. She didn't know how the woman found her way around the jumble of new names and faces, but she was spectacular at her job. It seemed no detail had gone amiss by her; it was inspirational to watch. "Your car is here, Maureen."

"Great, thanks," she said, already reaching for her coat and purse. She hoped the restaurant where the meeting was to take place was a decent one at the very least, for she was starving.

"Also, Stan just called. He's stuck in Staten Island and won't be able to make it to your four o'clock meeting."

An afternoon off? Dared she hope? "Does he want to meet later?"

"No, he'll have to reschedule. He'll give you a call himself once he has a look at his schedule. Enjoy lunch, see you tomorrow!"

"Thanks, Lynn."

As the car trudged down the busy 5th Avenue, she texted with Robin back and forth. Her afternoon off meant afternoon off for Robin – she could finally spend some proper quality time with Libby. Since the restaurant to which she was headed was just off Herald Square, she asked Robin to drop Libby off there later so they could wander about Macy's for a while. Maybe if the lines weren't insane, she would even take her up the Empire State after all.

Luckily, the meeting didn't drag, as all participants were busy people and didn't have time to linger. It worked out better than she could hope. Robin and Libby had just stepped out of a taxi as she said goodbye to the last of the executives at the entrance of the restaurant. "Thanks so much for this, Robin," she said, kneeling next to Libby to give her a kiss.

"Sure, no problem. Didn't you say you'd need me this evening, though?"

"Umm, no, I don't think that will be necessary," she replied hurriedly, trying to keep disappointment out of her tone. She didn't hear from Mark all morning, and she doubted she would hear from him at all. It would be thoughtless to leave Robin hanging like that. She probably had things to do.

"You're sure? I really don't mind going back later."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Enjoy your afternoon."

Soon Robin was gone, heading in the direction of Penn Station. She looked after her a moment, then leaned over and straightened Libby's panda-shaped beanie.

"No, stop it, Mommy!" giggled Libby.

"I'm just making sure your ears stay warm, Munchkin," she said.

"No work today, Mommy?" Libby asked a bit fretfully, as if she feared her mother would disappear if she as much as blinked.

"Not until tomorrow, baby. How about we go in and pick some stuff to decorate our tree?" As soon as they arrived they bought a small fake tree, since they couldn't bring a real one into the hotel suite. Although they bought some decorations already, the tree still looked rather bare. She hoped a few more Christmassy decorations would make it look a bit more like the tree they had in their apartment in San Francisco, and would make Libby feel more at home. She had always had a passion for the holidays, but she had never truly appreciated them until she settled in the West Coast. And when Libby was born, she had made it her mission to impart that appreciation on Libby as well.

"'Kay," said Libby, but her voice lacked enthusiasm. She seemed almost troubled.

"What's wrong, Libby?"

"I wanted Roger to come. Robin said he couldn't."

Her heart skipped a beat. Of all the names in the world, Libby had to choose Roger for her rumpled teddybear. She remembered the first time she heard her calling it that, almost a year back, when her parents gave it to her on her birthday. She asked her why she called him Roger. Libby just shrugged and said that this was its name.

"Robin was right. Roger isn't as nicely dressed as you are, Munchkin. You wouldn't want him to catch a cold, do you?" she struggled to keep her voice from trembling, thinking about the Roger she used to know. He died last Christmas. It was still too painful to take in. But she refused to sink back into memories, into self pity over the fact she still hadn't heard from Mark. She had to focus on the present, on her daughter, no matter how difficult it was. "Let's go inside."

She remembered well the last time she had been to Macy's. She and Mimi were bored, and so Angel suggested a trip uptown. They could barely afford the ride over, but they had so much fun anyway. Obviously their visit drew much attention, but she wasn't sure if it was because they didn't look like the average clients that frequented the department store, or because of Angel. She strode in as if she owned the place, found an available salesgirl at the cosmetics section and demanded a makeover. The salesgirl was so flabbergasted that they ended up getting makeovers as well. She never knew what Angel had promised the girl, but they didn't pay her a cent.

It felt as if forever had passed since then. Now she stood with Libby at the entrance of the enormous department store utterly clueless. It was crowded, not a surprising fact so close to Christmas. It had always amazed her how many people left their gift shopping to the very last minute. Someone gave them directions and they began their journey throughout the floors and the crowds, Libby's hand clutched tightly in hers.

Her cell phone rang just as they passed through the children's department. She didn't recognize the number, but assumed it would be Stan, calling to reschedule their meeting.

"Libby, wait a second, I have to answer this," she said. "Stay where I can see you, okay, baby?" Libby nodded, and she answered the call. It really was Stan, but reception was horrendous, and there was too much noise all around her. She moved further away absentmindedly, thinking it might improve the reception, but to no avail. Eventually she heard him say he would text her the details of their rescheduled meeting, hung up and turned to her right, to where she had left Libby a moment ago, only to find her daughter gone.

Instant panic was washing over her. She placed her phone in her coat pocket, fingers trembling. She felt paralyzed with fear, but frantic, somehow at the same time. A cold feeling was quickly creeping into her veins, making her heart quicken its pace, as she looked around her in a frenzy. Where did she go? She was here a second ago!

She was about to turn to someone for help, when she suddenly noticed a glimpse of Libby's purple coat. A sigh of relief escaped her. Libby was standing there, engaged in what seemed an amiable conversation with a stranger she couldn't see, for he was hidden behind shelves of toys and stuffed animals. She rushed towards her daughter, her panic quickly replaced with a deeper sense of fear. What was she doing? She knew perfectly well that she wasn't supposed to speak with people she didn't know, especially men!

"Libby, thank goodness, there you are!" she called out to her, giving the creep a fair warning before she pounced. It sure was more than he deserved. "What did I tell you about talking to stra – "

And then her fury was replaced by something else altogether when it occurred to her she knew the man her daughter had been talking to. "Mark," she whispered as soon as her gaze met his. By his expression, she could tell he had already put two and two together. Shit. She chuckled nervously, momentarily speechless. "We must stop meeting like this," she managed before her panic came rushing back, and she looked down at Libby. "Munchkin, are you okay?" she asked. Libby smiled at her brightly as if she couldn't see what the fuss was all about.

"We were just talking," said Mark. She raised her eyes to face him, heart still racing. This was becoming more than just coincidence; it was simply impossible! "Are you okay?" he asked her hesitantly.

"A bit shaken, give me a minute."

She tried to smile reassuringly, but he seemed to see right through it. He nodded, as though saying take all the time you need. He seemed conflicted, but after a while cleared his throat. "Look, I meant to call you later." But he could barely look at her as he said it. Something in his voice indicated that he didn't mean it. Okay, maybe he did, but he still looked so unsure. He probably hadn't decided whether or not he should.

"No, that's fine, I understand," she assured him, but couldn't help wondering. Did he just say that because he happened to meet her there? Or did he really mean to call her later?

"It's just… work and all, you know? I kind of lost track of time."

"Story of my life," she smiled sort of sadly. She wanted to get rid of this awkwardness, wrapping around them like mist. It just felt wrong. They used to be friends, they used to be lovers, for heaven's sake! She didn't want it to come to this. It was bad enough they fell out of touch for over a decade, a fact that was mostly her fault. Now that she found him, she didn't want to lose him all over again. How could she fix this?

Well, she could start by being honest with him, for a change. "So you two have already met?" she asked eventually, looking down again at Libby, who nodded. "Mark, this is my daughter Libby." He had obviously figured out as much already, but she needed to put the truth out there as plainly as possible. "Libby, this is Mark. He's an old friend of mine." She locked her gaze with his as she said it, hoping the words would indicate how much she had valued their friendship.

"Hi," whispered Libby, suddenly clinging to her coat, all but shoving her face inside it. The motion was endearing but somehow surprising, as the two of them seemed so chummy only moments ago.

"She's a little shy," she apologized on her daughter's behalf. Mark smiled but said nothing. She wished she could know what was on his mind. His expression was unreadable. There was a pull at the edge of her coat, gentle yet persistent, putting an end to her attempts to decipher his expression. She looked down at Libby, who stood patiently and waited for her mother to notice her. "What, Munchkin?"

"Mommy, I want this." It was then when she noticed an enormous Piglet that her daughter now picked up from the floor. She could hardly get a hold on it. She turned her amused gaze from Libby to the doll and to Libby again, who looked at her hopefully.

"How did you even..." Her eyes drifted to Mark. "Do you have anything to do with this?"

"Guilty as charged," he shrugged, a conspiratorial smile passing between him and Libby.

"I'll tell you what. Go find a smaller one, and I promise we'll get it. Okay, baby?"

"Okay!" called Libby excitedly, already halfway to the shelves again. She watched her for a moment, and turned to face Mark again.

"She's beautiful," he said quietly.

There were times when she was so proud of her little girl; it was usually over those smallest, meaningless things, the simplest compliment made her heart swell with emotion. "Thank you."

"How old is she?"

"She'll be five in two months." She peeked at him a bit fretfully, but there was no accusation in his blue eyes. Still, she felt compelled to say it. "I should have told you yesterday."

"Why didn't you?" Although his voice carried an unmistakable notion of seriousness, he didn't sound as if he was mad at her for hiding it from him. Actually, he sounded kind of curious.

"I'm not sure. I guess I was afraid you'd judge me or something." She smiled sheepishly, the absurdity of it just dawning on her. "I should have known better."

He hesitated, then glanced at her carefully. She guessed the question before he had even uttered it. "Is it… just the two of you?"

"Yes. Only us." Libby's return saved them from another awkward silence, the inevitable aftermath of her statement. She had two dolls now, smaller ones, and she held them for her to see, smiling proudly. "What you've got there, Munchkin?"

"Mommy, can we get Eeyore, too?" Libby pleaded.

She glanced at Mark and caught him smiling. Just like Libby, he too was awaiting her reply. She pretended to deliberate, although she could never resist her daughter when she gave her that look. "Well, I don't know, Libby. Should we buy both?"

"Pleaaaase?" asked Libby, pouting.

"Now, I wonder who taught her to do that," said Mark laughing.

She shot him a glare, but couldn't hide her smile. Awkwardness gone, mission accomplished. "Sure, baby. We'll get both. But only because it's Christmas."

"So how about that dinner tonight?" asked Mark all of a sudden.

She blinked in surprise. She wasn't expecting it, just like the first time he had offered it the other evening. As much as she had longed for it earlier, she knew now she wouldn't be able to make it. She couldn't possible ask Robin to come back. What if she had other plans already? And she promised Libby they'd spend the rest of the day together; she couldn't just ditch her because a better plan now presented itself. No, she would have to make the adult decision and turn him down. There would be other opportunities.

She shook her head, looking at Mark sorrowfully. "I'm afraid we'll have to reschedule. I've already given Libby's babysitter the night off."

"I didn't mean to leave Libby out of it. I thought she could come with us. That is, if she wants to." Before she knew it, he was kneeling next to Libby, so that he was at the same eye level as her. "What do you say, Libby? You want go to dinner with us?" he asked softly. Libby nodded, staring at him as if surprised to be consulted. Mark stood up and smiled at her victoriously. "See? It's a date."

"You're irresistible, aren't you?" she asked him teasingly, in that flirtatious tone of her youth, though her heart was racing. What had just happened?

He blushed slightly and lowered his head, accidentally glancing at his watch. "I have to get back to work… I'll see you later. Is seven too late for her?"

"I guess we can make an exception, under the circumstances," she replied. "We're staying not too far from your gallery." She gave him the name of their hotel. "Meet us there?"

"Sure. I'll be there a bit sooner, if I can."

"Okay. See you later then."

"Later," he smiled, a bit more comfortable, it seemed. Then he looked down at Libby, who was watching him curiously all this time. "It was nice to meet you, Libby," he said formally, making the daughter giggle. Her initial shyness started to slowly wane.

"Bye!" she said smiling, clutching her two new dolls. Mark returned her smile and turned to leave. She looked after him a moment, until he disappeared among the other shoppers. Then she shook her head as though to focus on the here and now.

"We'd better head back if we want to make it to dinner," she said, half to Libby, half to herself.

As they left the department store some time later, Libby talked endlessly about how Mark helped her getting the doll she wanted. She seemed to have liked him a lot, and how could she not? How could anyone not be charmed by Mark?

She smiled fondly as she listened to her daughter's story. It was such a Mark thing to do, saving a damsel in distress, even if this particular damsel was hardly five years old. She was happy to know that at least in that respect, he hadn't changed at all. Although she hadn't expected Mark and Libby to meet so soon – she thought she would have a chance to explain about her daughter, at the very least – she was relieved that Libby liked him so much. She wasn't really sure why, she just did. And Mark was obviously taken by her little girl, which made her feel happy as well. He seemed to know just the way to talk to her, which surprised her, because she knew he didn't have any kids, nor did he live among kids. Whether it was a quality he had acquired from his position as uncle or it simply came naturally, she couldn't quite tell. He would make a great dad someday, she thought smiling. Suddenly, she couldn't wait until the next time they see each other, only a couple of hours away.