21. Tyler
TYLER
THREE MONTHS LATER
Three months since Crystal Peak. Three months of Google Maps calculating the fastest routes between us, of Julian's bedroom walls plastered with Karl's drawings sent through the mail, of Ginger's toothbrush appearing in my bathroom and my favorite coffee mysteriously stocking her kitchen cabinet.
My phone calendar has transformed into a patchwork of color-coded blocks: blue for video calls where Ginger's pixelated smile brightened my evening, green for those precious weekend visits when the apartment filled with laughter.
Yellow for those unexpected business trips to Boston where I'd slip away early from meetings, my tie already loosened as I texted her: "Dinner tonight? "
Dark circles have become permanent fixtures under my eyes from late-night flights, and my suitcase lives perpetually half-unpacked by the door.
Yet each time Julian's face lights up at Karl's arrival, each time Ginger's fingers intertwine with mine as we walk through Central Park, I know the exhaustion was worth every minute.
And now, after months of careful planning, the next phase of our relationship is about to begin.
"Do you think they're going to like it?" Julian asks for approximately the seventeenth time that morning, bouncing on his toes with barely-contained excitement as we monitor the arrivals board.
"They're going to love it," I assure him, checking the display where Ginger and Karl's flight from Boston shows 'ON TIME' in reassuring green letters. "Just like they loved the museum last month, and the baseball game the month before that."
"But this is different," Julian insists. "This is..." he lowers his voice dramatically, "the surprise."
I fight back a smile at his intensity. "Yes, and they'll love it. We've been planning this for weeks. Everything's arranged."
Julian nods, though he continues fidgeting with energy. I can't really blame him—I feel a similar anticipation bubbling beneath my calm exterior.
Julian now keeps a drawer half-empty 'for Karl's stuff.
' He has taped a hand-drawn sign to his bedroom door that reads 'Julian AND Karl's Room' with the 'AND' underlined three times.
In Boston, Karl had insisted on identical bedding for his trundle bed ‘so Julian feels at home’.
They finish each other's sentences, developed elaborate inside jokes, and text each other nightly with updates too urgent to wait until morning.
"The boys want pizza," I'd say to Ginger over the phone, or she'd text me, "The boys built a fort in the living room," the phrase falling naturally from our lips as if they'd always been a matched set.
And as for Ginger and me...
Well, that is what today is about. In a way.
"THERE THEY ARE!" Julian shouts, breaking airport protocol with enthusiasm as he spots Karl and Ginger emerging from the jetway.
Karl's face lights up at the sight of us. He breaks into a run despite Ginger's automatic "No running in the airport!" that chases him down the corridor.
The boys collide in their customary greeting—part hug, part wrestling match—while Ginger approaches at a more dignified pace, her bright smile rivaling the airport's runway lights.
"Hi," she says simply, dropping her carry-on to accept my embrace.
"Hi yourself," I murmurs, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. "Good flight?"
"Uneventful," she confirms, pulling back to look at me. "You look tired. Rough week?"
"Nothing unusual," I assure her, though in truth I'd been working overtime to ensure everything was perfect for this weekend. "Better now that you're here."
She smiles, that particular smile that still made my heart skip a beat even after months of daily communication. "Smooth talker."
"I try," I grin, picking up her abandoned bag. "Ready for a weekend of mystery and adventure?"
"Is that what we're calling it?" she laughs. "Julian's texts have been increasingly cryptic. I half expected to be blindfolded at the gate."
"Don't tempt me," I warn playfully. "Julian wanted the full kidnapping experience—complete with blindfolds and secret notes—but I talked him down to reasonable surprise practices."
"Thank goodness for adult supervision," she deadpan, linking her arm through mine as we herd the boys toward the exit.
The drive from the airport is filled with the boys' chatter, Julian admirably avoiding any spoilers about our weekend plans despite Karl's increasingly creative interrogation techniques.
"But WHY do I need to pack a swimsuit in May?" Karl demands, continuing a line of questioning that had begun via text earlier in the week.
"You'll see," Julian replies for the dozenth time, shaking with the effort of keeping the secret.
"Are we going to a water park?" Karl guesses, leaning forward in his seat. "Or the beach? Is there a beach in New York? Or a lake? Julian, come ON, just tell me!"
"Nope," Julian maintains with impressive resolve, smugly crossing his arms. "You have to wait."
"Mom," Karl appeals to a higher authority. "Make him tell me."
"Sorry, buddy," Ginger shrugs. "I'm as in the dark as you are. Though I'm also curious about the swimsuit requirement in fifty-degree weather."
"All will be revealed," I promise mysteriously. "Patience is a virtue, etc., etc."
"You two are the worst," Ginger inform us, though her smile belies her complaint.
"The actual worst," Karl agree emphatically, slumping back in defeat.
Julian catches my eye in the rearview mirror, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his face. We'd been planning this surprise for over a month, ever since Julian had overheard Ginger mentioning that she'd never been on a proper beach vacation.
"Can you at least tell us if we're staying in the city this weekend?" Ginger tries, employing a more subtle approach than Karl's direct assault.
"Nice try, Lawson," I smirk. "But you'll get nothing from me. My interrogation resistance training is top-notch."
"I have ways of making you talk," she warns in an exaggerated villain voice that made the boys giggle.
"Save it for later," I advise in an undertone that made her blush.
The rest of the drive passes in similar fashion, with the boys alternating between catching up on school news and Karl's continued fruitless attempts to extract information about our destination.
"We're not going to your apartment?" Ginger asks, noticing when we passed the familiar turn that would have taken us to my building.
"Nope," Julian announces proudly from the back seat. "We're going straight to the surprise!"
"Which means," I add, checking my watch, "that it's officially time for phase one of Operation Weekend Wonder."
"Phase one?" Ginger repeats, looking increasingly amused by our elaborate secrecy.
"Julian, if you would do the honors," I prompt, passing back a small bag I'd stashed under my seat.
Julian solemnly removes two airline sleep masks. "Please put these on," he instructs with the gravity of a surgeon. "No peeking until we say so."
"Are you serious?" Ginger laughs, but complies along with Karl, who expresses concern about getting carsick.
"Just let us know and you can take it off," I assure him. "We're only about fifteen minutes away."
"I feel like I'm in a very low-budget spy movie," Ginger mutters.
"The budget increases significantly at the destination," I promise, squeezing her hand.
For the remainder of the drive, Julian keeps up a steady stream of misleading hints.
"Are we going to NASA?"
"Are we meeting the President?"
"Is it a submarine ride?"
"Are we being recruited as international spies?"
Karl's guesses are getting progressively more outlandish. At this rate, we'd be meeting aliens and riding unicorns before we reach the airport.
Finally, I turn into the private airport where our plane awaits, coming to a stop directly beside the small jet.
"Okay," I announce. "Masks can come off... now!"
Karl whips his mask off instantly, while Ginger removes hers more carefully, blinking against the sudden light. Both of them stare in confusion at the scene before them.
"It's the... airport?" Karl's shoulders slump, his voice flat with disappointment.
"Look," Julian prompts, bouncing on his toes as he points toward the tarmac.
"A PLANE?" Karl's voice cracks, shooting up two octaves.
He grabs Julian's arm, nearly knocking him off balance.
"We're going on another plane? Where? WHERE?
" His mouth drops open, eyes bulging as he spins toward me.
"Is it Disney World?" He clasps his hands under his chin. "Please tell me it's Disney World!"
Ginger turns to me, surprise evident in her expression. "Tyler? What's going on?"
"Well," I begin casually, enjoying her growing astonishment, "Julian and I were thinking about what might make a nice weekend getaway, and we remembered someone mentioning they'd never had a proper beach vacation..."
Her eyes widen. "No way."
"Yes way," Julian confirms gleefully. "We're going to the Bahamas! For the whole weekend! There's a private beach and everything!"
"The Bahamas?" Ginger repeats, sounding dazed. "But... we didn't pack for... I don't have..."
"Already handled," I assure her, having anticipated this very concern in my planning. "New vacation wardrobes for both of you are waiting at the villa. Julian helped pick everything out."
"I got you a hat with flamingos on it," Julian informs Karl seriously. "And a shirt that changes color in the sun."
Karl looks like he might explode from excitement. "WE'RE GOING TO A REAL TROPICAL ISLAND? WITH PALM TREES AND EVERYTHING?"
"With palm trees and everything," I confirm, unable to stop smiling at their reactions.
"Tyler," Ginger says quietly, her eyes suspiciously bright. "This is... you didn't have to..."
"I wanted to," I say simply. "We both did. Right, Jules?"
Julian nods enthusiastically. "It was my idea! Well, mostly my idea," he amends with admirable honesty. "Dad helped with the details."