It was around 11:00 in the morning when Danielle brought an early lunch to my room.
"Eat up," she said. "Then we have to get you ready for your date." I thought the enthusiasm was going to burst out of her chest by the way she spoke with a little squeak in her voice.
"I'm not meeting Louis until 2:00," I said.
"I know, but I know just what you're going to wear and how I want to do your hair."
"Danielle, you don't have to do that. I mean, yes, it's your job, but-"
"No, no, no. Louis told me what you're doing, so I have to dress you accordingly."
"Oh, so now I'm a Barbie doll?"
She laughed as she left my room. I started to eat, but I was too excited. My whole body was buzzing with anticipation. I went to the mirror and pulled my hair up and then I let it down, trying to figure out the best way to wear it.
Danielle came back in carrying a lovely red Hepburn dress. I secretly loved Audrey Hepburn's style and I wished I could pull it off in more of my outfits.
"This is gorgeous," I gasped. "Where did you get it?"
"It's mine," she grinned proudly.
"Yes, but where did you get it?"
"I'm not sure if you'll want to wear it if I tell you where I got it."
"If you tell me it's from Wal-Mart, then you're correct," I laughed. "But this material is too nice to have come from Wal-Mart." I looked at her expectantly.
Finally, she blurted out, "I made it!"
"Shut up!" I said. "You made this? Like with needle and thread and a pattern?!"
"Well, I have a sewing machine. But I figured you and I are about the same size, since you've worn my clothes before."
"Danielle," I marveled. "You have a real talent."
She looked very pleased with my compliment. I put on the dress and my jaw dropped at the sight of myself in the mirror. "This is exquisite, really. I should get you together with Veronica. She's a fashion guru."
"That would be awesome!" She said, unable to control her volume.
"Shh," I giggled. "You're going to wake up all of Long Island!"
She raised an eyebrow and said, "It's almost noon, they should be awake by now."
I finished getting ready, with Danielle doing my hair in a loose ponytail with a thin headband. It was out of my face for the sweltering afternoon, but it was relaxed, a look I was beginning to like.
I spritzed on my favorite perfume and gave myself one last glance in the mirror. I was happy with the look that Danielle and I had created together.
On my way to meet Preston, my mother caught sight of me. "Where are you going, all dressed up?" She asked.
Oh no! I had to think of something fast!
"I...I'm going to a ballroom dancing class," I lied. "Veronica and I are taking lessons for the wedding."
"Veronica?" She asked.
"Yes, Mother. She's going to be my maid of honor."
The look on her face was something between a grimace and disappointment. "I thought you should ask your cousin, Faye, to be your maid of honor."
I tried not to roll my eyes. "I haven't seen Faye in years. I hardly know her!"
"Yes, but she's family," my mother insisted.
"No, it's going to be Veronica and that's final!" I snapped. Little did she know that I wasn't going to have a maid of honor because I wasn't going to have a wedding at all. I was still waiting for just the right moment to tell my parents, and that moment was certainly not right now.
"Ashten, I'm getting tired of your back talk!" She said sharply.
I was already walking out the door, so I didn't answer.
Preston was waiting and I happily climbed in. Before he started driving, I asked, "Are you still mad at me?"
"I guess not," he replied. "I just hated to see Louis like that. He was really torn apart, you know."
"I know," I said, remembering the look on his face. It almost made me cry. "But I'm not making that mistake again, I promise. This isn't public knowledge yet, but I already broke up with Richard."
"I heard," he whispered. "But I won't tell anyone."
I sat back with a smile on my face. I had four people on my side - well, five including Louis - and that was more than enough to make me feel like I was doing something right for a change. I relaxed until we drove into Central Park, where Preston pulled up alongside Louis' little sports car. He came around to open my door. I sucked in a surprised breath when I saw that he was sharply dressed in a gray suit and tie. His mess of hair was tamed neatly, revealing all of his adorable face. Before I even stepped out of the limo, I said, "You look amazing!"
He held my hand as I got out. Then he stood back and said, "You are the one who looks amazing!" He placed a light kiss to my cheek.
Then he turned to Preston and said, "I'll take her home. But you can text me if there's any suspicion."
Preston nodded his understanding and then drove off.
When he turned back toward me, I asked, "Is there a reason I'm wearing dancing shoes?"
"There is indeed. But don't get impatient. You'll find out soon enough."
I sighed playfully. He tugged my hand and led me to his car, opening the door for me. I slipped into the seat. I couldn't stop smiling.
"What's up?" He asked, noting the silly grin on my face.
"I'm just excited, that's all."
He shifted into gear and drove off, a content smile gracing his face. "Me, too."
He drove to a different park entrance, put the top up on his car, and locked it. A horse-drawn carriage arrived immediately, as if on cue.
Louis stood by the step and helped me into the carriage. "I assume you've done this before," he said. "But I'm hoping that this time will be different."
"Not since I was little. And I'm sure it will be very memorable."
He sat next to me in the carriage and we were off. We rode around for a while, just enjoying each other's company. Then the carriage driver dropped us off, Louis handed him a large bill and said something quietly to him. He took my hand and we started walking, aimlessly at first.
My hand fit perfectly in his as we strolled along. "Louis, I'm wearing dancing shoes! Where are we going?"
"Just walking through Central Park."
"Then I should have worn walking shoes," I replied.
Louis frowned a little. "Then I wouldn't get to see you in that lovely dress." He lifted my hand up over my head and twirled me around. "Perfect," he sighed.
As we walked, he pointed out different people and started telling me about their lives as if he knew each and every one of them.
"That guy over there – he's jogging because he's so stressed out at work and he doesn't want to take it out on his wife and their new baby."
"Look at that old couple. They've been in love since they were teenagers in Italy. They moved here in the 1940's and they're still as much in love as the day they met."
"That lady, the one who's walking really fast, she's on a late lunch break and she had to get her daily walk in because she just lost 200 lbs."
I burst out laughing. "Louis!"
"And that little old lady, sitting on that bench. She's come here every day for 28 years, ever since her husband died. They were married in this park, and she feels close to him just by being here."
"You're such a weirdo," I said, giggling.
"No, I'm just a hopeless romantic," he smiled smugly. I'd never heard a guy describe himself like that before. "Don't you ever just watch people and wonder about their lives?"
I cast my eyes to the ground. "You probably don't want to know what I think about people that I see out and about, especially in such a common place like this." Then I realized how bad that sounded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that as an insult to you, it's just that I usually frequent posh, upscale places. And I-"
He squeezed my hand and interrupted me, "It's okay, I know what you meant. So, what do you really think about people?"
"Lou," I whined. "They're not nice things. You know how I am – or at least how I used to be – my thoughts were usually pretty mean, and quite often my words were, too. I don't want you to run away; I'm want you to fall hopelessly in love with me."
He leaned over and whispered, "Too late."
I sighed. "I'm realizing how shallow I used to be. I don't want to be her anymore. But if you must know, I would have thought that guy was a jerk who ran around the park to meet women. I probably would have frowned upon that old couple, thinking they didn't have to be so affectionate in public because it's gross to think of old people that way. I might have thought the same thing about the 200-lb. woman," I said, laughing.
"I'm trying not to say mean things, but they're still rooted in my brain. You're so positive all the time. How do you do it?"
"I've always been this way, I guess. I just like to think the best about people."
We were approaching the gothic bridge, so he walked a little faster, pulling me along. When we got to the middle, we stopped and Louis turned me to face out at the walkway underneath. Then he stood behind me and put his arms lightly around my waist. "Tell me what you see," he said.
"Central Park," I answered.
"How about that woman?" He said, pointing to a tall middle-aged woman who was wearing skinny jeans, a sleeveless tank top, and high-heeled sandals. She was walking slowly, pushing a stroller which held a babbling baby. "Tell me something about her."
"Those Prada shoes are about three years old, and her shirt is a little stretched out."
He chuckled, his breath breezing past my ear. "You told me about her clothes. Tell me about her. What's her story? Is she happy? Is that her baby, or she taking care of him for someone else?"
"Hmmm. I would say that she got kicked out of Paris for her poor sense of fashion."
Louis squeezed my waist as I laughed. "Stop that!" He commanded.
"Okay. I say that she got married to her childhood sweetheart. She met him when she lived in Paris as a child, but her parents moved their family back to the States when she was 15. She never forgot about André, and she never fell in love with anyone else. They found each other again, 25 years later, when he came to New York on a business trip. They got married within a month and they spent the first few years of their marriage reconnecting. They live in a posh apartment on the Upper East Side, and they feel complete now that they have their miracle baby."
"Wow, you do have a romantic side," he said, kissing my cheek.
"I still can't figure out why she's wearing those shoes," I joked, and he gave me a playful little swat on the bum.
We continued walking, hand-in-hand. "Everyone has a story," he said. "Everyone has a reason that they are the way they are. I just like to give people the benefit of the doubt, you know, believe the best about them."
Just then, our carriage appeared. Louis helped me in. We took off at a leisurely pace. Louis fanned me with a pamphlet that was lying on the seat.
I leaned back closed my eyes and said in a snooty voice, "Ah, thank you, Pool Boy. Can you bring me some Perrier? And next time, please ask for an air-conditioned carriage." I had a smirk on my face, but Louis didn't respond. I opened my eyes to see him crossing his arms and giving me a mock disappointed look.
"Well?" I asked.
"It's a good thing you're so damn cute or I'd have to throw you off this carriage," he laughed.
"I'm sorry," I giggled. I leaned over to kiss his cheek.
"What's your favorite part of Central Park?" He asked.
"I haven't been here much," I admitted.
"You live in New York and you haven't been to Central Park much? This place is so cool!"
"It's not exactly the type of place I'd visit by myself, and my girlfriends didn't want to go to a park. They always wanted to go shopping or to clubs or fancy parties."
"What about your parents? Or your nanny?"
"I came here with my dad a few times when I was really small, and I loved the carousel. My nanny wasn't allowed to bring me here. My parents said it was too dangerous and it didn't have enough culture."
Louis rolled is eyes. "Well, then, we're going to act like kids today!" He instructed the driver to take us to the carousel.
When Louis helped me down, I felt a little funny about going to ride the carousel in my fancy dress and shoes. "What if people stare at us?" I asked.
"They're not going to stare," he said. "Besides, this is New York. I'm sure people have seen much crazier things than a boy and a girl riding the carousel."
He took my hand. I felt like he infused some kind of power in me when he touched me. Things that used to make me nervous or scared or anxious just fell away; they had no more staying power when held my hand.
I asked if we could just sit on a carousel bench, but he said we wouldn't get the full experience if we didn't ride the horses. So he lifted me to sit, side-saddle of course, on a white pony. He took the one next to me and held my hand.
I started laughing as we went around and around, remembering why I liked this so much when I was little. My dad would stand right next to me and hold me so I didn't fall. Afterwards, we would get ice cream or some frozen lemonade.
Louis took out his phone and snapped a picture of me before I could protest.
"You can't post that anywhere!"
"I know that," he said in a patronizing tone and then he grinned like a little kid. "It's just for me."
"Can we get ice cream?" I asked.
"Anything you want," he said with a wink.
We rode the carousel three times. When Louis helped me down, he spun me around, making my dress flare out. "People are staring," I said.
"Let them stare," he said, still holding me in the air and placing a soft kiss to my lips. He set me down and took off towards the carriage, dragging me along behind him. "Next stop, ice cream!"
We settled into the carriage and it occurred to me that Louis must have spent a fortune – for him, at least – to rent this carriage for the entire afternoon. "You didn't have to do all of this, you know."
"I know," he said. "But I wanted to. Our next date will probably be McDonald's and bowling."
"On second thought..." I said, pretending I was going to jump out of the carriage. He pulled me back in and squeezed me so I couldn't escape.
After we got ice cream, we walked for a while, talking and exploring. I decided I wanted pictures, too, but we agreed we wouldn't share them with anyone. We walked out to Bethesda Terrace and then we took a selfie under the tile ceiling. We explored Belvedere Castle and we stopped on all the bridges to watch people and tell their stories.
We started talking about our childhoods. Louis told me of all his adventures with his brother and sister, like building a tree house that was slanted, riding their bikes into Ypsilanti and forgetting Colum at the ice cream shop, playing basketball, baseball, kickball and all other sorts of ball all year round. He told me about collecting frogs and trying to build them a habitat in his back yard, but the frogs kept escaping. He told me about falling off the roof and breaking his arm because he was trying to rescue the family's cat that was stranded up there. He told me about the fun family trips and outings they used to take – canoeing Boundary Waters, hiking in the Grand Canyon, camping in Northern Michigan.
I felt sad, somehow, hearing about his family's adventures. If I went to an event with both of my parents, it was either a political function, a fundraising dinner, a cotillion or a soirée. Those words meant boring to me. Well, at least until I got older and started making my own friends. Then we would usually sneak away and get into mischief.
"Your family must have taken some impressive vacations," he noted.
"Sure," I said plainly. "French Riviera, Club Med, Paris, London."
"Wow," he said. "Sounds kind of boring."
"Are you kidding?" I asked. "Those are most glamorous vacation spots!"
"Yeah, they still sound boring. Didn't you ever go to Disney World?"
"We went exactly one time, when I was about seven. We spent five days there and we still didn't see everything. My parents would set a time limit for exploring Disney, and then they would say they were tired, so we had to go back to the hotel. They would leave me alone in the room to watch TV while they went to the spa. Or they would go out for a nice dinner and bring me something in a styrofoam box. I always wanted to go back and see more of Disney, but whenever I asked, she would say, 'We've already been there.'"
I was surprised that I got a little choked up telling him about that. I usually buried memories about my childhood because most of them hurt. When I let this one out, it was no different, but Louis hugged me as he sat beside me, making my head rest on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Ash. That sucks. I'll take you there some day, okay? I've never been there, but I've always wanted to go."
"That sounds like fun."
The driver stopped at a path that led into the woods. I could hear water trickling in the distance. We walked a little way into the woods, and we came upon a small waterfall flowing into a pool of green. It was so tranquil, it almost felt like we'd stepped into another world.
"This feels like a fairy tale," I mused.
The path went through a magnificent stone arch. We stopped underneath and Louis turned me to face him. "Can I please kiss you? Or is that too risky?"
"I think we're fairly well hidden," I said, pushing up on my toes to meet his lips. He kept his hands firmly on my waist, but his mouth moved so expertly along with my own, his sliding gently against mine.
We kissed for a long time. When we broke away, I teased him. "So you took me all the way out here and led me into this place just so you could kiss me?"
"You got me," he smirked. "I wish I could shout it from the rooftops that you're mine, but for now I'll have to settle for secret kisses."
"I'm yours?" I asked with a grin. "Does that mean we're official?"
"Of course," he said. "That is, if you want to be mine. I mean, maybe it's too soon to call you my girlfriend since you were engaged to another man until just yesterday."
"Very funny," I said. "I would love to be called your girlfriend. It's the first time I've gotten to choose that title for myself and not have it forced on me by my parents."
He held me tighter and kissed me more deeply. I would have been perfectly happy to continue our date under that stone arch, just holding each other.
After a while, he looked at his watch and said, "Come on, we have places to go."
We hopped back into the carriage and sauntered off to another part of the park. As we drew closer to our destination, I heard music playing, Big Band by the sounds of it. We stopped at a pavilion where there were dozens of dancers, swing dancing and looking like they were having the time of their lives.
"Shall we?" Louis asked, offering me his arm.
"We can't dance here," I said nervously. "Aren't these people professionals?"
"Not at all. It's swing night. People come here often for these events, just to dance."
"I don't know swing very well," I said quietly.
"Well, you did fine at Megan's wedding," he said, pulling me onto the dance floor. "Just follow my lead."
I paid close attention to his steps and the movement of his hands, pushing or pulling lightly, twirling me around, and dipping me on occasion. I stole glances down at my dress and laughed with happiness when I saw it flaring out.
It felt like we danced for hours, doing all kinds of swing. It was terribly hot; Louis had long since taken off his suit coat, unbuttoned his dress shirt a little and rolled up his sleeves. Before we finished, he dipped me one more time and gave me a peck on the lips.
"Now, how about dinner?" He asked.
"We're kind of sweaty," I remarked. "Do you think they'll let us in anywhere?"
"Well, I'll just drop your name and we should get right in," he teased. I smacked his arm in response.
The sun was low in the sky and a breeze picked up throughout the park as we rode to the Tavern on the Green. It was enough to cool us off, and I just hoped we didn't smell too bad.
Louis was such an impressive gentleman, always leading me gently, guiding me with his hand on my back, opening doors, offering me his arm.
When we were sat down at an outdoor table, Louis ordered water first, and then a bottle of wine. After we'd placed our orders, I told him, "You were right."
"About?"
"Our family vacations were boring, at least for me. It wasn't much fun when my parents dumped me off at the nearest kiddie pool and then left me for hours while they went snorkeling or went to the spa for a massage. They never included me, even when I was old enough. I would have loved to go snorkeling, but...."
Damn! Why do I keep tearing up like this?
"I'm sorry," I said, after wiping my eyes a bit. "I don't know why I'm acting like this."
He reached across and delicately lifted my hand, holding it firmly in his. "I do. You said it already – your parents left you out a lot and it hurt. Did you ever get to take friends with you?"
"No. I always begged to take Veronica, but my parents said they didn't know her well enough. And when they'd drop me off at the children's activities, they would tell me to make friends. If I told them I hadn't made friends, they would get mad at me and tell me I wasn't trying hard enough." My voice began quivering, so I said, "Okay, enough of that for now."
"All right," he smiled.
Our food arrived shortly, but I was almost too happy to eat. I still couldn't believe this was happening, spending hours with Louis and finishing our perfect day at the Tavern on the Green. It was almost dark and there were hundreds of lights strung around the patio. It was such a relaxed atmosphere, so cozy and romantic.
"This is so beautiful," I mused. Then I looked at Lou and said, "I think this has been the best day of my life."
He winked and said, "I told you that a date doesn't have to entail a private jet to Paris."
"Paris is boring," I laughed, and he did, too.
We ate dinner, making light conversation. It didn't seem to matter what we were doing, when I was with Louis, I was happy.
After dinner, we got back into the carriage, and we rode around Central Park for at least an hour. I nestled into Louis' side and he kept his arm around me for the whole ride.
When we returned home, I felt that familiar anxiety taking over We were still sitting in Louis' car, neither one of us in a hurry to get out.
"How am I going to tell my parents?" I asked softly. "They're going to kill me."
"Well, I know I can't be at your side when you tell them, but I can be nearby. Maybe I can hide in the pantry," he said in a lighthearted tone.
"Yeah," I chuckled. I turned to him and said, "I don't want this day to end."
"Then let's not end it," he said, and he leaned over to give me a slow and deep kiss. When he broke away after several minutes, he said, "Do you want to watch a movie at my place?"
"Yes!" I said, making him laugh at my enthusiasm. "But I think I'll go and change first. I'll meet you at your room in fifteen minutes."
I cruised through the darkened house, knowing I'd been successful going on a date with Louis behind my parents' back. When I got to my room, I jumped in the shower, just to wash the sweat off my body. Then I threw on a pair of yoga pants with pink trim, and a slouchy pink sleeveless racer-back t-shirt. When I arrived at Louis' place, I discovered he'd showered as well and he was wearing some comfy shorts and a plain white t-shirt.
He shut the door behind me and pulled me into his arms. "I missed you," he mumbled into my hair.
"Fifteen minutes is a long time," I playfully agreed. "Now what are we watching?"
"I thought we'd start with Titanic. I've been itching to see it again since the Henry Ford Museum."
"You're such a softie," I teased him. But I liked his sentimental side.
We snuggled on his couch and started the movie. When we got to the scene where Jack was holding Rose at the highest point on the ship, he put his arms around my waist and said, "I'm the king of the world."
I giggled. "You're a dork," I said.
"Me? A dork? I think not. I'm a well-educated, refined gentleman of the highest position." He kissed my cheek and said, "Besides, I have a beautiful girl at my side."
Remembering what he'd said at the museum, I commented, "We are kind of like Rose and Jack, aren't we?"
"Mmmhmm," he hummed into my shoulder.
"But we are never going on a boat together!"
We started another movie after Titanic was finished, but I was so wonderfully exhausted that I fell asleep on his shoulder.
In the wee hours of the morning, we were startled by a sharp knock on the door.
"Louis!" It was Danielle's voice seeping through the door. "Open up!"
He jumped up to let her in. She had a terrified look on her face. She flashed her phone in front of us, and we saw the picture that was causing her panic.
It was an online tabloid, featuring a picture of Louis and me, dancing in Central Park.
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What do you think will happen when Ashten's parents see the tabloid picture?
The gif is of all the fun places that Louis and Ashten went to on their date, and their cute little looks while they were together. I was researching Central Park and now I want to go there! :D