Chapter Seven

"Never mind. Merry Christmas," she said quietly. Her cell phone felt heavy as she placed it back on the nightstand. She leaned back against the pillows with a sigh, feeling miffed and somewhat defeated. What were you thinking, she scolded herself. Thinking back about what she had meant to tell him made her feel like a complete fool. So she missed him; why was she making such a big deal out of it? They spent a lot of time together in the past few days, it only made sense that she would.

But it was so much more than that. After Libby fell asleep that night beside her, she just sat in bed, staring absentmindedly at the TV screen. She couldn't stop thinking about him. She was about to leave shortly after New Year, and it suddenly dawned on her that they had less than two weeks to spend together. The realization upset her more than she had imagined it would. It went beyond just saying goodbye to an old friend, because it was becoming painfully clear to her that Mark was more than that. And that led to a much scarier realization. She didn't want to be just friends. She wanted to be with him.

While she was sure of her feelings, she knew she shouldn't go ahead of herself, for there was no guarantee he wanted to be with her too. When opportunity presented itself when he called, she tested the water, commenting on something he had said, waiting to see if he bit. But as soon as the exchange turned serious, she lost her nerve, diverting the conversation elsewhere. There was also the fact he meant to kiss her two nights ago, and would have kissed her the previous night if not for Robin's interruption. And she would have let him because to be honest, there was nothing she wanted more. But there was a huge leap between just a kiss and an actual relationship. Despite the implications of his words on the phone earlier, for all she knew he wanted nothing to do with her for the long run, and who would blame him? He said he had forgiven her and she believed him, but there was a difference between absolution and repetition. And knowing Mark, he had probably prided himself on never making the same mistake twice.

How odd was life, she mused. When she dumped him, she did so knowing without a doubt that a person like her could never be with a person like him. She might have been cruel back then, but she wasn't stupid. She knew how much he loved her. In hindsight, her one regret was the way she had ended things. If only she'd been gentler with his heart, maybe it would have been easier for him to get over it. And as life brought them back together, she figured it must be a matter of timing. Maybe she just wasn't ready for him back then. Now she couldn't see anyone else in her future.

Nonetheless, she was realistic. There was no way she could just break it to him, not given their history. She really wasn't good enough for him. And even if he did feel the same, he lived too far away. She thought she could handle a long-distance relationship; she wasn't one to shy away from challenges. But this wasn't just about her, and she had Libby to consider. She wouldn't put her daughter through such an emotional turmoil unnecessarily. And so it would never work. He would never leave New York. He belonged there with every fiber of his being. And she was too settled in San Francisco to even consider relocation. It was just never meant to be.

With Christmas over, she returned to the familiar routine of meetings and workshops, but she embraced the tediousness of it. It kept her mind away from the mess her life had become in such a short time. She was absorbed in her work, in the need to stay focused and alert, and it kept her occupied, and better yet, distracted. She hardly had time to spend with Libby, which upset her, but she did manage to push forward their flight home and get four days off. Whenever work got too stressful, the anticipation for those four days was enough to keep her smiling for the rest of the day.

Mark didn't call right upon his return as he'd promised, but she was actually okay with it. She needed to stay away from him for a while. She was still filled with doubts about what lay ahead, and she needed to think it through. Then, one afternoon, he texted and asked her and Libby for dinner on New Year Eve at his place. They didn't have other plans, and she thought it could be fun. Libby really wanted to see him again too, and how could she possibly refuse her little girl?

She tried to keep surprise out of her tone as he gave her directions, but the truth was she was impressed. It turned out he lived not too far from their hotel, a walking distance from Central Park. It wasn't the grandeur of the buildings across the park, along 5th Avenue, but it was definitely an upgrade from the shabby loft in Alphabet City. The apartment building was a classic New York brownstone, five stories high. She looked up at the balcony of the top floor, where she knew he'd resided.

Libby's gaze followed hers, her eyes wide with amazement. "He lives here?"

"Yeah, it's a pretty building, huh? It looks nothing like ours."

"Ours is taller."

"That's right. Let's go check it out."

As old as the building seemed, it did have an elevator. As she led Libby to Mark's door, she became aware of the irregular thud of her heart, and struggled to keep it steady. As they texted back and forth in the past several days, neither of them mentioned that phone call, or acknowledged the words that had been said. She knew a conversation about it would be inevitable now, but she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for it.

"One second!" She heard Mark's voice in reply to her knock on the door. A moment later there was an echo of footsteps, and a smiling, slightly breathless Mark opened the door for them. "Hey, come on in."

"We brought cake!" Libby informed him enthusiastically as soon as they walked in. While she wasn't great with baking, she'd always treated baked goods with utter respect, and she passed her love for all things cakes and cupcakes on to her daughter as well.

"Here, don't you drop it," she warned Mark as she handed him the package she was holding as if it was an expensive piece of china. "It's Red Velvet."

"When in New York," he said, flashing a crooked grin at her. She stuck her tongue at him, then knelt to help Libby take her coat off. As soon as they were both coat free, he kissed their cheeks in turn, first hers, then Libby's.

As Mark excused himself and went to drop the coats in his study and put the cake in the kitchen, she took the opportunity to look around. He mentioned he had lived there for about three months, but it looked as if he moved in last week. There were boxes everywhere. The living room, where they were standing at the moment, was as spacious as their entire apartment in San Francisco. It opened to the balcony they had seen from outside, but the sliding door that led to it was closed as if to keep out the cold. There was only one photo on the wall, above the TV. She knew it, she realized. He took it years ago, from the roof of the loft. He used to go up there every morning for almost two months, trying to capture the perfect sunrise against the New York skyline. He said he had always wanted to do that, and there was no better place for it than the rooftop. The day he had finally caught it was the day April killed herself.

"Great place you've got here, Mark," she said as he returned. "This runaway style must be a new trend."

He looked around him in dismay. "Can you believe it was worse? I actually started unpacking when I got back from Scarsdale. Not enough time."

"There's never enough time."

"My dad and I never got along, but he was generous with his inheritance. That's the only reason I could afford this apartment in the first place. I was even able to set up my own dark room in here, which is awesome." His eyes wandered to Libby, who seemed a bit distraught. "What's wrong, Libby?"

"You forgot to give Roger a kiss," she stated, dead serious.

He stared at her dumbfounded, with a hint of amusement in his blue eyes. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Roger!" she said, holding her teddybear in front of her for him to see.

"Oh! His name's Roger, huh? That's a very cool name. Was it your mom's idea?" he asked, glaring at her.

"I had nothing to do with this!" She protested, raising her arms in a motion of self-defense. Libby was still looking at him expectantly, and so she smiled at him and nodded towards the bear. "Come on, Marky, give Roger a kiss," she said, and Libby nodded her agreement. He frowned at her slightly, but then knelt beside Libby and gave the bear a quick kiss on his nose.

"There. Is he happy now?"

"Very!" said Libby with a huge smile and threw her arms around Mark's neck. It amazed her to see her daughter behave so trustingly towards a person who was a complete stranger to her not a week earlier.

"Now that we got this issue sorted," he said, standing up, "I hope you're hungry." It was then when she realized that something smelled really good. Did he cook? She must have had that look, because he gave her a look and said, "Yes, I can cook, I learned the hard way."

"What, I didn't say anything!" she laughed defensively. "As long as it's not some weird, Polish food – "

"Oh, aren't you a sweetheart," he retorted. She shrugged. One Friday dinner at the Cohen residence was enough. "Will mac and cheese do?"

Was he for real? "That's Libby's favorite. Isn't it, Munchkin?" Libby nodded. "But I'm the master of mac and cheese, Mark, you stand no chance."

"We'll have to see about that someday, won't we?" he said, leading them to the other end of the living room, where a small dining table was already set for three.

It turned out that Mark's mac and cheese was almost as good as her own. Libby confirmed it, but admitted with a shy smile that Mommy made it better. While she was flattered by her daughter's loyalty to her cooking, she was too unfocused to fully appreciate it. She looked at Mark thoughtfully when he didn't notice. He was so amazing with Libby. They laughed and chatted as if he had known her all her life, and she obviously adored him. And he could cook. But then she gave herself a reality check. It was never meant to be.

After dinner, they moved to the couch and turned on the TV, waiting for the live broadcast from Times Square. It was getting pretty late for Libby, but she stated she wanted to wait for the countdown at midnight, which was three hours away. As Mark went to bring the cake from the fridge, she helped Libby change into her pajamas, which she'd brought with them. It only occurred to her then that she hadn't thought Mark's invitation through. If Libby fell asleep, would it be wise to carry her back to the hotel in the middle of the night? Did Mark expect them to stay over? Was she supposed to bring it up?

"I'll go fetch her a blanket," said Mark as he reemerged with the cake and some plates. "Want some wine?"

"Sure, thanks."

He returned with a blanket which he dropped next to her, and she wrapped it around Libby. He placed a few boxes on the table and excused himself again. She glanced at the labels and chuckled; a Scrabble set and a few ancient puzzles he probably brought from home. When he reappeared, he balanced three glasses in his grip, milk for Libby and red wine for the two of them. He handed her one.

She slipped onto the carpet, leaning against the couch, and pulled an afghan onto her lap. Libby stretched along the couch, snuggling into the blanket. Mark sat across from her on the carpet. He glanced over his shoulder at Libby, who already looked half asleep, staring at the TV with this glazed look in her eyes.

"We can move her to my bed if she falls asleep. There's no bed in the second bedroom, so..." He rolled his eyes at his own incompetence. "You two can take my bed, I'll sleep in my study if worse comes to worse." He reached for the box of Scrabble; he seemed to have a hard time looking at her. Had it just dawned on him too they would have to spend the night?

They began to play; it seemed safer than talking about the things they actually needed to talk about. The wine helped in lighting the atmosphere, and she held onto her glass for dear life. She was losing miserably with each passing round, and she knew it was because her mind wasn't really into it. At some point she glanced at Libby to find her fast asleep, clutching her teddybear. Mark's eyes followed hers. He smiled, then leaned over to tuck the blanket more tightly around her. The smile lingered on his lips when his eyes shifted from Libby to her.

"Want to go outside?" he whispered, nodding towards the balcony. She nodded, and reached for the remote to put the TV on mute. Then they stood up and she followed him outside.

It was eleven thirty, and freezing cold. It seemed wrong to rush inside and fetch her coat, or the afghan she had left on the carpet. She blew into her palms to keep them warm, and hoped Mark wouldn't notice her chattering teeth. The downstairs neighbors were having a party. The sounds of loud music and people's voices were clearly heard against the silence of the night. She squinted into the darkness, idly wondering if he had the view of the park from up there.

"So. Any New Year resolutions?" asked Mark, leaning on the railing next to her.

She sighed. The answer to this question was getting more complicated with each passing year. "To be a better person, I guess. And happier. To be a good mother." Then something occurred to her and she turned to look at him seriously. "There's one more thing, but I kind of need your help for it."

"What is it?" he asked curiously.

"I realized… I didn't have a chance to say goodbye," she said quietly. She didn't say their names, but by the sorrow that now darkened his stare, she knew he understood. "Will you take me to the cemetery before I go home?"

He seemed moved by her request. He slowly nodded. "Of course."

"Maybe you were right to resent me for leaving. I'm sorry you had to go through this on your own, to lose them on your own. I should have been here for you," she whispered, looking away. Tears were stinging in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to cry. It was just that she missed them so much. She should have stayed, she scorned herself. She shouldn't have run away.

"Hey…" he murmured, moving closer and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "Stop it. It's in the past. You did what you thought was right."

"How come whenever I think I do something right, somehow I mess it all up?"

"Libby was right."

She smiled at him through a veil of tears. Somehow, he did it again. Once again he knew exactly what to say. "You are absolutely amazing, do you know that?"

He returned her smile sheepishly, obviously remembering their conversation at the Life Café. "I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did. Probably more than you'll even realize," she said, laying her head on his shoulder. At the back of her mind she was aware of the fact they needed talk about that phone call; she should probably initiate it, as she was the one who had stirred the conversation in that direction. But where would she even begin? "I'll really miss you when we go home."

"I'll miss you too. Both of you, actually. You'll have to tell me when is Libby's birthday exactly so I can send her something. She'll be five, right?"

"Yeah. Soon, actually. On February 4th." She felt him tense, and raised her head from his shoulder. He looked stunned, slightly pale even. "What did I say?"

He seemed to have hard time answering her question. "February 4th, almost five years ago… is exactly the day Collins passed away," his voice wasn't higher than a whisper.

She just stared at him as this new information slowly sank in. It was an amazing coincidence, if you believed in that sort of stuff. She meant to say something when the loud voices from the party below became impossibly louder. This meant only one thing. It was almost midnight.

"10-9-8-7…" The people downstairs yelled drunkenly. She and Mark exchanged amused looks. "…3-2-1… Happy new year!"

The street exploded with cheers. There was a hustle in the distance, coming from Times Square, she figured. The music downstairs resumed, louder than before. People were singing and laughing and greeting each other. She turned her gaze to Mark and found him looking at her. He smiled and inched closer.

"Happy new year," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her. It was hardly a real kiss; his lips barely fluttered against hers, but for a moment, everything else ceased to exist.

He pulled away shortly afterwards, but didn't move back. By what she had seen in his eyes, she knew that he felt it too. Slowly, hesitantly, she placed her hand against his cheek. His eyes were still locked on her in a gaze so intense, as if he was trying to guess what she would do next.

Well, there was only one thing she could think of doing.

Their next kiss was the answer to all her questions. There was no one to barge in on them, no doubts, no hesitations. His arms tightened around her. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer. Suddenly it wasn't so cold out there on the balcony. Their kisses were fervent, passionate. She couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed her like that, as though she was the only thing in the world that mattered; as though everything made perfect sense. And strangely enough, it did. She figured it all out now.

"You're my something right," she whispered breathlessly as he trailed kisses to her neck.

"You're crazy," he murmured, and for a second she felt frozen with fear she had said too much. She pulled away with difficulty, questioning his say with a look. "Crazy to think you're not good enough for me." He looked at her seriously, then dropped another kiss against her lips. "You're everything."

She was too overwhelmed by her realization, by his words, to even come up with a reply. She touched his bottom lip, hoping he could read everything in her eyes, knowing even that would never be enough. She slipped her hand to the back of his neck, bringing his head down for another kiss. He put his hands on both sides of her face, deepening the kiss, but then pulled away with what felt like reluctance. She looked up at him breathless and slightly confused. Was this the moment he realized what a mistake this was, and turned her down? For a second she believed that he did and felt like the biggest idiot in the world, but soon realized her mistake as he smiled at her and took her hand in his, wordlessly leading her back inside the apartment and down the dark hallway.