12
Saturday, December 14
10 days until the wedding
Gwen
Why hello, my beautiful future wife,” Caleb says as soon as he picks up my FaceTime call the next evening. I grin at his words. He’s sweaty and gorgeous in a slim fitted workout shirt with the sleeves cut off. He rubs a towel over the back of his neck as he walks out of his personal gym and up the stairs of the penthouse.
“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?” I climb onto the bed in my hotel room. Alvina went downstairs to pick up dinner. I figured I’d get in a quick phone call to Caleb while she’s gone.
“No, John just left,” he says, referring to the trainer who helps him work out several times a week. Caleb takes a swig from his water bottle. For the millionth time, I’m captivated by the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Such a simple thing, but I notice everything when it comes to him.
I miss him.
“What’s up with Alvina and Wayne? Any new developments?” he asks, his image on my phone screen bouncing as he walks up the steps.
“Same as the last couple of nights. Alvina creeps back into our room a few hours after she sneaks out, obviously trying not to wake me. I’ve been tempted to throw off my covers and yell “gotcha,” but I’m worried I’ll give her a heart attack.”
Caleb chuckles at that. “Did you ask her about it yet?”
“No.” I pull the bedsheet up to cover my legs, using the movement as an excuse to avoid making eye contact.
“Why not? It’s been a couple of days.” Caleb quirks his head to the side.
“I don’t want to make it weird. I still have to travel with them.” I sniff, not wanting to admit that my feelings are hurt.
Caleb’s mouth tightens like he wants to argue, but he holds himself back. He’s reached his bedroom now. He throws the towel into the laundry hamper and goes over to a yoga mat laid out on the floor in front of the large windows that overlook Central Park.
“Look,” he says, holding his phone up to the view. “It’s snowing. Started the day you left. I forgot to tell you.”
Sure enough, outside the window, fluffy white snowflakes drift slowly through the air. I’ve stood at that window before and watched as the park was magically transformed, like a sugar plum fairy flew over it waving her wand. Watched trees get frosty jackets of ice to coat their bare branches. Watched snow melt into the water of the serene pond across the street. I’m sad to not be there with Caleb. To miss out on the beauty unfolding in my adopted city.
“So pretty,” I croon, pressing my face to the phone.
“Yes, you are,” he sings back, and we both laugh. “Oh, you meant the snow,” he says with a rueful quirk of his lips. “It’s nice until the cars drive through it, and it turns into a gray mush that stains the bottom of your pants.”
“Shh,” I tell him, my eyes locked on the picture-perfect scene. “Don’t ruin this moment.”
He shoots an indulgent smile my way and says, “So easy to impress my little beach baby.”
I wrinkle my nose at that, which makes him laugh, that rumbly guffaw I like. I’d do anything to hear that sound.
He props the phone up on a nearby chair and starts his post-workout stretching, which is an even better view than the one outside the window.
“How’re the lectures going? Are you still loving it?”
“It’s great,” I say, grinning, excited to tell him all about the cancer conference. Caleb continues his routine and listens attentively as I fill him in on the presentations I attended and the interesting people I’ve met.
Once that’s done, he says, “I’m happy for you. Sounds like you’re getting a lot out of it.”
I nod in agreement. “I miss you, though.”
“I know. Me too.”
Finished with his routine, Caleb moves to a chair in the corner of the room in front of the window. He sits perched on the edge and tells me about his day. Rehearsals, lunch with a producer friend who’s trying to recruit him for an upcoming movie, a meeting with his manager, his workout.
Then he surprises me. He says, “Let’s play the game.”
I understand right away what he’s talking about. It started after we broke up and he came to New York to win me back. I used to ask him all kinds of random questions to get to know him better. The catch was that for every question I asked him, he got one in return. We’ve kept it going since we reunited. It’s entertained us during long walks or date nights.
“Yes,” I say and beam. “We haven’t played in a while.”
“You start,” he says.
“Okay.” I screw up my face, thinking. “Oh! If you had to go the rest of your life shoeless or shirtless, which would you choose?”
He snorts. “That’s easy. No shirt. I mean, have you seen my abs?”
If I were there, I’d throw a pillow at him. “So humble.” I roll my eyes sarcastically.
“Next question.” Caleb moves us along. “Do you ever want to move back to California, or are you happy here?” He tilts his head, regarding me intently.
I cross my knees and rock side to side as I think. This is how we play the game. We jump between lighthearted questions and serious ones. I’ve learned some of his deepest secrets this way.
“I’m fine in New York. It’s important to me that the art therapy program is successful. It’ll take a while to get it up and running.” I smile, thinking about the art therapy program I instituted at my hospital last year. It has been a ton of work to set up, but now we have three full-time therapists who go to the patient rooms and use art to help the patients process their illnesses and heal.
“I miss Teddy, though.” I chew on my lower lip, wondering if I could convince my baby brother to move to New York someday. I don’t even bother to consider my older brother, Brandon. He’ll never leave the Midwest.
“How about you? L.A. or New York? L.A. is better for movies and television.”
Caleb crosses an ankle over his knee, his foot bouncing. “I’m fine with either. Working in front of a live audience has been pretty amazing. New York is great for that.”
I sigh happily. I enjoy this, planning a life with Caleb. Thinking about all the things we’ll do together. Sometimes I picture my heart like a house full of rooms. It used to be a tiny apartment, with just enough space for Jenny and my family. Caleb has turned it into a mansion. I’ve put memories of him—ones from when I first fell in love with him to last week, when he made popcorn and we watched a movie on TV—into that home. Some rooms sit empty, waiting for future Gwen and Caleb to decorate them.
“My turn,” he says. “What do you think about getting a dog? Like Pip, but bigger?”
“Really?” I practically shriek. I’ve wanted a pet for so long but figured that with our busy schedules we wouldn’t have time to give it enough attention. “Who would walk it, though? When we’re gone all day? It might get lonely.”
“There are tons of professional dog walkers in the city. It’s a serious profession here. We’ll hire one of them.”
“I’d love that.” We spend the next few minutes arguing over different breeds. I would love a Siberian husky. He thinks a golden retriever is better.
“Why a retriever?”
“I hear they’re great with kids,” Caleb says shyly.
Oh.
We’ve discussed this several times before and agreed that we both want children, but we haven’t figured out all the details. Seems like a good conversation to have before we say, “I do.”
“My question,” I remind him. I drop my eyes to the white hotel bedspread and smooth out the fabric with my fingers. “I know you want more than one, but exactly how many kids are you thinking?”
He answers immediately, “Six.”
“Six!” My gaze whips up to find him chuckling.
“You should see your expression right now,” he wheezes out between laughs.
I mock glare at him. “You can have six when you figure out how to squeeze them out yourself.”
He winces at the thought. “Ouch. I’m kidding. I’m not sure. Four?”
“Two,” I counter. “A boy and a girl.”
“Um, I’m not the doctor here, but last I heard, you don’t get to choose.” One corner of his mouth lifts.
“True.” I pin him with a stare and say, “No pressure, but it’s all up to you.”
“Me?” His eyebrows go up.
“The sperm determines gender.”
“The things I learn from you.” He shakes his head and smiles, a megawatt grin. The one he’s paid big bucks for, but I get it free.
“You’re going to be the best mom, Gwen. I can’t wait to see that.” Mercurial, his emotions shift to something more serious. “There was a time I didn’t think I’d be fit to be a father.”
“You aren’t that person anymore,” I remind him gently. “Besides, it won’t be for a while. I’ve got this last year of residency left. You have two years on your contract at the theater. We’re too busy for kids right now. Let’s get a dog and practice on it. It can be our furry baby. Less likely to need therapy when it’s grown from all the mistakes we’re sure to make.”
Caleb nods. “I want to spend time with just you anyway. Not looking forward to sharing you quite yet.”
As usual, we’re on the same page.
Caleb looks out the window, at the softly falling snow. “If you had to choose between living in an eternal winter or an eternal summer, which would it be?”
My response comes quickly. “I’d choose whichever one you were in, because the weather means nothing to me as long as we’re together.”
Now I get the special smile, small and tender, that he keeps only for me. Caleb says, “That’s the right answer.”