Maeve eagerly awoke from sleep and grabbed her phone on the night table. Otis had said he was going to text her his flight information, and she couldn't wait to find out when he was arriving.
When she opened her messages however, she was met with a shock. "Maeve," the message said, "I have the whole weekend planned. I have you booked on a flight from Madison to New York City tomorrow. Here's the itinerary."
Maeve stared at the message in disbelief for a moment, then texted Otis back: "You can't afford this, Otis." Otis was obviously awaiting her reply, because his response was immediate: "Don't worry. I need to show you how important you are to me."
Maeve decided not to argue. She remembered what she had learned from her experience with Aimee about allowing those who cared about her to be generous. And she had always wanted to see New York City anyway, so she excitedly began packing her things.
The flight to LaGuardia was only a couple of hours long, and when Maeve arrived at the baggage carousel, Otis was already there waiting for her. He was dressed, quite predictably, in a suit and tie, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
As Maeve approached him, she was so overcome with emotion she didn't know what to say. All she could muster was a simple "hi." "Hi," Otis replied warmly. They stood there staring at each other for an awkward moment, then, throwing all apprehension aside, Maeve pulled him close in a tight embrace.
Then she got a closer look at the flowers-a half-dozen red roses, looking like they were ready to bloom. "Oh, they're beautiful, Otis," she exclaimed, taking them into her arms.
Once they got in the taxi, both were silent for a while, almost as if this was a perfect moment neither one wanted to mess up. Then Otis started in. "So how was your week?" he asked. "Okay," Maeve replied. "There's a publisher who might be interested in my book." "Well, that's amazing!" Otis exclaimed. "Congratulations, Maeve." "Yeah," Maeve continued, feeling herself open up a little more. "Except that I've been having really bad writer's block the last few days." Otis nodded. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that," he said empathetically. "If there was anything I could do to help with that I would." Maeve smiled. "You already are Otis," she replied, taking his hand. "You already are."
When the taxi arrived at the hotel, Maeve was pleasantly surprised to find that Otis had already checked in. They went straight to the room, and there in the sitting area was a round table with a water-filled vase already prepared for the roses. She attentively placed them in the vase, then stood there for a moment admiring their beauty. "Well," she said finally, "I'd like to shower before we go out, if that's okay." "Sure," Otis replied. "Dinner reservations aren't for another couple of hours, so there's plenty of time."
At dusk, they headed by taxi across the Queensboro bridge into Manhattan. The bridge and city were lit up in all their glory, and, after maneuvering through the busy traffic, the taxi turned down a side street, coming to a stop in front of a tall building with large windows on its lower floor. As they walked towards it, Maeve could see an interior with elegantly laid tables, chandeliers on the ceiling, and a very well-dressed clientele. "Otis," she said softly, "this place looks pricy." "It's okay," Otis replied. "I need to show you how important you are to me."
Maeve didn't want to spoil the mood, but she had something she needed to say and couldn't hold it back any longer. "Okay, Otis, stop!" she said, letting go of his hand. Otis, concerned, turned toward her. "Otis, you don't have to spend all your mum's money to show me how important I am to you," Maeve continued. "Just you being here shows me that. That's all I want Otis. YOU is all I want."
There was a moment of silence, the two staring at each other, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead street lamps. Then Otis took her hands in his. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I just felt like I had to do everything I could to get you back." Maeve laughed through her tears. "Otis, you didn't have to get me back," she replied. "You had me back the moment you picked up that phone."
They shared a long, heartfelt kiss, then headed up the street, looking for a less expensive dining option. It wasn't long before a pleasant aroma awakened their senses, and, turning the corner, they found themselves standing in front of an older building with a flickering neon sign at the top. Even though a couple of letters were burned out, they could make out the words "Hal's Diner." "Looks kind of sketchy," Otis said warily. "Yeah," Maeve replied. "But it smells great!"
The diner, as it turned out, was nicer on the inside than the outside. The plush seats were red with silver trim, and it seemed to be based on a 1950s nostalgia theme, with pictures of classic cars and golden era Hollywood movie stars everywhere. They took a seat at one of the booths and began looking over the menu.
"I think I know what I want," Maeve said finally. "The Smashed Burger Meal." Otis looked down the menu to where she was pointing, and found himself thoroughly agreeing with her.
At that moment, a pleasant, red-haired, middle-aged woman in orange waitressing attire came to the table. "Hi, how are the two of you this evening?" she asked in a thick New York accent. "We're great," Otis replied. "Well," continued the woman, "my name is Madge, and I'll be your server tonight. Know what you want yet?" "Yes," replied Otis, "We'll have two of the, um, 'Smashed Burger Meals.'" "Great choice!" exclaimed Madge. "Anything to drink?" "Yes," said Otis with a completely straight face. "A bottle of your best wine, please." Madge looked perplexed. "Uh" she replied, "we don't offer wine here, sir." Otis cracked a smile. "I know," he said, chuckling, "I'm kidding." "Oh!" laughed Madge heartily. "Actually," continued Otis, "just get us a couple of Cokes."
After Madge left, Otis noticed Maeve was looking at him with an expression he had seen many times before—the day he gave her the five-year diary, the moment before their first kiss, the night she told him she loved him. "What are you thinking?" he asked.
"Oh," replied Maeve, "just how I wish we could do this every weekend . . .and how it won't be too much longer till we can." Otis looked confused. "But I thought you had decided to stay in America," he said. "Yes," Maeve continued, "but I've been looking into things, and there really isn't a way for me to stay here legally after my course is over. I'm going to have to return to the U.K, finish at Cavendish. Then maybe I can get accepted at an American university." "Or," interjected Otis, "maybe your writing career will take off, and you'll be so rich you won't even need to go to college." Maeve beamed. "Oh, Otis, that would be so amazing," she said. "I could finally afford that house with the big windows I've always dreamed of, maybe move Elsie in with me."
Service at Hal's Diner was fast, and Madge soon arrived back at their table bearing a virtual cornucopia of food. No sooner had she laid the bounteous feast before them, then Maeve dove right in. Otis, however, sat staring wide-eyed at the massive beef-filled burger before him. "What's the matter?" Maeve asked with a smirk on her face. "Um" said Otis tepidly, "I don't think I can eat all that!"
As it turns out, Otis' appetite was greater than he thought, and it wasn't long before both of them were sighing contentedly, looking at their near empty plates. "Well," said Otis finally, "we best be going. This night isn't over yet."
After paying and thanking Madge for her excellent service, they headed up the street, taking one turn, then another. To Maeve it seemed like they were hopelessly lost, but Otis seemed to know exactly where they were going.
Then, suddenly, their destination became clear. In the distance they could see an almost other-worldly sight—the Empire State Building lit up in its full glory, like a rocket ready to launch. As they approached, it loomed so large that it filled their entire field of vision. Maeve thought they were just going to walk by it, but Otis headed straight for the entrance. Once inside, he showed their tickets, and they, along with several others, were escorted to a nearby elevator. Maeve stood in awe looking at the 86 floors on the elevator control pad. "Which one are we going to Otis?" she whispered softly. "The very top," Otis replied.
When they exited on the 86th floor they could see just outside was an observation deck overlooking the city. "Oh, this is incredible!" Maeve exclaimed. "Yes," replied Otis smugly, "but WE are going up into the spire." Maeve stared at him in disbelief. "We can do that?" she asked incredulously.
It wasn't long before they found themselves in a glass elevator whooshing them further upwards, and they emerged in a large, round room that had no walls. Instead, in every direction were tall glass windows, giving them a full 360-degree view of the city. Maeve was at a loss for words. "Oh, Otis," she started, "this is so . . . this is so . . ." "Amazing?" chuckled Otis, finishing her sentence.
At that moment a tour guide walked up to them. "Welcome to the 102nd floor observatory," she said. "Would you like me to point out the landmarks to you?" Maeve and Otis agreed, and she was soon pointing out the Chrysler building, the Statue of Liberty, the World Trade Center, and the Brooklyn Bridge. When they had run out of questions, she left them to themselves to enjoy the view.
Otis wrapped his arms around Maeve from behind, and they stood there basking in what seemed like an enormous slice of heaven. "Otis," Maeve whispered, "this day has been so perfect. I don't know how you managed to get your documents and plan all this so fast, but, thank you." "Well," replied Otis, "I actually did all that the moment you left for America weeks ago. I talked to my parents about coming to see you and everything. But then I got bogged down with all the stuff going on at Cavendish, and it never happened." Maeve smiled. "Well, it has now," she said. "That's all that matters." She turned around, and their lips met, their silouettes illuminated by the galaxy of lights below.
It wasn't long before they noticed the room was completely silent and pulled away from each other to realize that everyone else on the observation desk had left. "Otis," whispered Maeve softly, "we're the only ones here." "Yes," agreed Otis. "That means," continued Maeve, "we can do whatever we want." "By whatever we want," asked Otis, "do you mean what I think you mean?" "Yes," Maeve replied. "I don't know," Otis said hesitantly, "what is the tour guide lady comes back?" "Well," replied Maeve, "We'll just listen for the elevator, okay?"
Otis nodded and pulled Maeve, so his back was against one of the steel beams between the windows. They gazed passionately into each other's eyes, then let their desire pour forth like the opening movement of a beautiful symphony. Never, in either of their lives, had they experienced anything like this. It was like, not only their bodies, but their entire souls were melding into each other, going deeper and deeper into ecstasy.
After what seemed like an eternity, Otis let out a cry of euphoria. As he did, Maeve's whole body shuddered, and she grabbed hold of his back tightly, as the tsunami of pleasure continued to engulf her. Neither one of them had attempted to have the climax of their symphonies come at the same time. Yet it had.
Still quivering, Maeve pulled her lips away from Otis', and, breathing heavily, they resumed eye contact just as the sound of the elevator reached them. Maeve had barely lowered her dress, and Otis zipped his pants when the tour guide came walking in. "We're closing the observation deck now," she said politely. "Right," replied Otis, "we were just leaving."