Chapter 45 Two Days till New Year’s Eve
45.
Two days till New Year’s Eve
On the second-to-last day of the year, Rafi Belvedere woke up in his childhood bedroom, alone. Again. The other side of the bed yawned, one thousand miles wide. Ash had been in New York City since Christmas Day, visiting college friends to give the Belvederes space. Yesterday on the phone, Rafi had told him that they didn’t need any more time together as a family. “Come back tonight?” he’d asked, hopefully.
But Ash had equivocated, sounding vague and unwilling to commit to his return. After they hung up, Rafi’s worries got a good grip.
Maybe his spontaneous ticket to London had spooked Ash, and this extended stay in New York had become time to reconsider everything—time to decide they were better off as friends. The glow of holiday magic was being replaced by the cold light of day, and soon Ash would be back in his regular life in London, a life that might not have room for Rafi. Even if it hadn’t initially been Ash’s intention, maybe it really wasn’t the holidays without a holiday fling, and now Ash felt it best if that fling was over. The thought turned Rafi’s blood to ice.
—
The morning was cloudless, the winter sky an indigo blue. Sunlight splashed through the windows with cheerful insistence. Rafi dragged himself into the kitchen, needing breakfast, caffeine, a foolproof map for his love life.
Babs was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping a green tea smoothie as she pecked at her computer with her pointer fingers.
“Morning.” Rafi poured himself the much-needed coffee. “What are you up to?”
“Working on a statement about all this.” Babs gestured to her cane, hooked over the kitchen island. “For social media.”
“What’ve you got so far?”
“Something like, Hello, world, big news: I’m switching from soy milk to oat, and also, I have MS. Any questions about the milk? ”
Affection ballooned in his chest. “Funny.” He plopped down next to her with a sigh.
Babs removed her glasses, her gaze turning soft. “Everything okay, baby boy?”
Rafi groaned. “Mom, I’m not a baby.”
“Oh, honey, of course you aren’t. You’re a grown man. I know that.” Babs put her hand over his, her expression sincere. “But you’ll always be my baby. No matter how old you are. You might not understand that until you’re a parent yourself. But, of course, I respect you as an adult, too.”
Her words were a welcome surprise. “Well, thanks. I appreciate that. But honestly, I’m not doing a great job at adulting right now.” He explained his worries over Ash’s absence and their upcoming time apart. “What if he gets back to London and everything changes?”
His mother’s expression turned sage. “Can I tell you something I’ve learned about love?”
Rafi hazarded a guess. “Divorce is always an option?”
Babs gave him a look, but the twinkle in her blue eyes gave away her amusement. “Guess again, wise guy.”
Rafi sipped his coffee, recalling some of his mother’s better zingers. “ Men are like encores: it’s always more fun the second time . Or, I love getting married. Staying married, that’s my weakness. ”
Babs permitted a chuckle. “Love,” she began, “isn’t out there waiting to hit you like a bolt of lightning. It’s not something you capture or keep or make follow your rules. It’s something you create, with another person. It’s an act of will, and imagination, fueled by trust and perseverance. It’s a practice. And it’s possible for anyone.” She leaned closer, her words impassioned. “That boy loves you, my sweet. He always has. Give him time. Give him your trust. You have a wonderful path ahead of you. Don’t dash off ahead and get worried when he isn’t catching up. Walk together, side by side. At a pace you both set.”
—
Rafi decided to take his mother’s advice to heart by setting a slow, steady pace on his first solo hike of the season.
Snow clung to the branches of the pine and fir trees, bowing them close to the earth. Reverential forest. Few sounds but for his boots crunching through the woods and the occasional forest thrush calling for its mate.
The trail opened up to a lookout over the Hudson, a majestic swath of restless water spangled with the winter sun.
Rafi sank onto a jut of rock. Nothing but thick trees dotted with snow on either side of the waterway that flowed south, toward New York City. Toward Ash Sebastian Campbell. Someone he belonged with. If he worked at it. If he followed his mother’s advice and walked together, side by side.
Rafi thought of the hard work Birdie was doing. Her radical, productive changes were inspiring. And Liz, who he’d always seen as his stoic, responsible older sister. In a way, he was grateful things had blown up in the hospital waiting room. Even Liz had big, messy feelings.
Maybe no human felt like they belonged all the time. Maybe belonging wasn’t a constant state of satisfaction but something subtle and underlying that was felt most strongly in special moments. Gatherings like these, like Christmas. When his family, however imperfect, could offer the quietly wonderful space of true acceptance. Maybe he needed only to belong to a few people. With a few people. He belonged to and with Ash. However they figured out the logistics would be the right way.
Rafi let his worry go, imagining it being swept away on the river’s current. Then he paid attention to the sound of the birds. The whisper of the wind through the trees. The feeling of the fresh air on his skin, filling his lungs. The sun goldened, sinking into the west. In his meditative state, grounded by the natural world, Rafi finally found peace.