Chapter 3
Cherry
As soon as Sean opened his door, the aching returned. Here he was – fresh-out-of-the-shower hair, cargo shorts and a white shirt. So tall – at least six four – with solid legs, muscular arms, and innumerable tattoos. Cherry was a goner for a man with tattoos, and Sean had them by the armload.
‘Morning, Paradise.’ From the energy in his voice, you wouldn’t suspect he’d sunk as much alcohol as he had the night before. Maybe it had all been smoke and mirrors. Or he was one of those people who easily bounced back.
‘You don’t seem hungover,’ she said.
Sean grinned. ‘Hangovers are a state of mind. Also, I only drink quality whisky, and a lot of water when no one’s about.
The sight of you might just cure any hangover, though.
’ He glanced down the corridor towards the lift.
‘I was googling ways to make elevators stall. I think I can get us a good three minutes before the alarm goes off.’
Cherry lifted a questioning brow. Was he serious?
‘I’m joking. You want to hang out, though? You were the first thing I thought about when I woke up, and I think we should do New York today. You up for it?’
She said yes. Of course, she said yes.
First was brunch at Bubby’s – a New York institution. Facing each other with two giant stacks of pancakes, hers laden with blueberries and his caramelised banana and walnuts, Cherry realised not only how hungry she was, but how curious she was about Sean.
‘Who would be your ideal dinner guest?’ she asked amid the lively hubbub of the sun-drenched diner. ‘That’s one of the questions to make you fall in love, by the way. Just for full disclosure.’
‘Ah, thanks for letting me know I’m part of your experiment.’ Sean stabbed his pancake stack with his fork. ‘You have a willing participant. And to answer, I know I’m meant to say my dad or Jesus or something, but my honest answer is Hercules the Bear.’
Cherry snorted with laughter, grateful she hadn’t yet taken a bite of food.
‘You know who I mean?’
‘I’ve a vague idea. He was a celebrity bear or something?’
‘Aye. Bought as a cub from the Highland wildlife park and raised by a wrestler and his wife. Disappeared while filming a Kleenex ad in the Hebrides but was found fifteen stone underweight because he was too tame to eat any wildlife he could have preyed on. And they re-nourished him with shrimp and Advocaat. That’s what I’d serve at the dinner party, with a wee dram for after… What about you?’
Cherry lowered her fork, which she realised had been poised mid-air while Sean talked.
‘I’d love to meet Poker Alice,’ she said.
‘She was a legendary Old West poker player who outplayed the men, smoked cigars and carried a 38 revolver, which she used to reinforce her rule about never playing on Sundays.’
‘Jeezo! She sounds more terrifying than a grizzly.’
‘She wouldn’t scare me.’ At last, Cherry managed to take a bite of pancake. ‘She might scare Hercules, though.’
‘Aye. He was a big softy.’ Sean smiled. ‘How’s the pancake?’
‘So, sooo good. You like?’ She nodded to his stack, caramel drizzling down the remaining side.
‘I love.’ Sean’s eyes sparkled as he stared right at her while stabbing another piece of pancake off his plate.
Cherry almost forgot to keep chewing. Without ungluing her gaze from his, she asked another question. ‘Would you like to be famous?’
The answer came fast. ‘Nope. My family is well known enough in Scotland, and in Kinshore, sometimes it feels we’re like the Kintyre royal family or something.’
‘Ooh!’ Cherry loved the concept of somewhere so small and Scottish having its own royal family. And of Sean being part of it. She bet he was one of the eligible princes on the peninsula.
‘I’m not bragging,’ Sean said, ‘but folk know us. My mum gets invited to open garden centres and stuff. One of the reasons Cal had his wedding in New York was so folk wouldn’t be offended if they weren’t invited.
God knows how Jamie will cope when it’s his turn.
He’s the CEO, so that makes him the king.
I’m one of the spares.’ Peering down at his food, Sean seemed to realise how little he’d eaten. ‘God, I don’t half talk a lot, sorry.’
Cherry tucked her fork into a wedge of his pancake and cheekily scooped it up. ‘I like listening.’ She slid the fork into her mouth. ‘I want to know all about you. And these questions are fun. Not that we need a conversational crutch.’
‘Aye, we don’t, but it is fun. So, would you like to be famous?’
The answer to this was definitive. ‘No. I’m well known in the poker world, but besides a decent bank balance, I’m not sure what it’s given me.
It’s bad enough on the circuit for a woman, without the wider media latching on with their “poker wild woman” garbage.
Also, I dated a minor celeb back in the day, and getting papped sucks. ’
‘Ah, right.’ Sean didn’t ask who the minor celeb was, for which Cherry was grateful, seeing as he was more of a major celeb nowadays. She was also touched that where most people would fish for a name, Sean did not.
As they emerged, pancake-happy, into the Tribeca sunshine, Sean interlocked his fingers with hers, pressing their hands together.
It was hard to concentrate when he asked, ‘Where to now?’ All she could think about was how protective this simple gesture felt.
But as they walked through Lower Manhattan, chatting away, she relaxed into the feeling. He was such easy company.
‘Seany,’ she said as they were cruising out to the Statue of Liberty, ‘would you really marry me today, if you could?’
Sean glanced up from the river he’d been staring into, eyes bright but serious. ‘Aye, I would. Not to sound like a nutter, but I found out from Google that to marry at City Hall, you have to wait twenty-four hours after getting a licence. I’d do it, though.’
The other passengers were occupied by the Statue of Liberty, but Cherry was fixated on Sean. ‘Me too.’ He made the outlandish seem normal by committing to his chosen direction. But did he regret his choices? She wouldn’t marry him if he might change his mind next week.
‘What would your family say?’ she asked. Their reactions could hold the key to whether this was a sustainable approach.
‘That’s easy. “Calm doon, Sean, take your time, don’t rush into things, why don’t you think about this for a bit, consider your options, be more Jamie, be more Cal, blah, blah, blah.”’
‘Ooft! Have I hit a sore point?’ Cherry had no siblings, but she could understand that in a family of Sean’s size there might be unfair comparisons.
‘Ha, no. Well, maybe, aye. I might be a little bit jaded by being underestimated all my life. I have this thing where I do things fast – whether it’s buying a new washing machine or a house or moving to London at the last minute – and people don’t get it because that’s not how they operate.
So they think I’m headed for calamity. Add things like dyslexia and poor focus and, well, I suppose I’ve spent a lot of my life being underestimated for what I understand.
There’s an accepted idea of intelligence, and it’s not a lad who has trouble spelling and hammers bits of wood together for a living.
But they don’t know what goes on up here. ’ Sean tapped at his temple.
Cherry wondered if she’d happened upon the most reflective man who hammered bits of wood together for a living. It was admirable how honest he was about his “stuff”, and how he didn’t shy away from his challenges. ‘Those things sound hard,’ she said. ‘Dyslexia is tough... And ADHD?’
‘Ach, dunno. Never been tested. But listen.’ He read her concern. ‘If you’re worried that marriage would be a harebrained decision I’ll backtrack on, the chances are slim.’
This was interesting, but how did he know? Like, really know. ‘Marriage is different from a new washing machine or a move to London,’ she said.
‘Yeah, it is, which is why I wouldn’t go into it lightly. This is a slow-paced decision for me. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since we met. Would be another two days before we could get hitched here.’
Cherry considered how many times the sun would have to set and rise before that could happen. ‘Feels like ages. In the meantime, all you’ve done is intrigue me. I want to know more about what goes on up there.’ She raised her hand to Sean’s temple. ‘Every neural impulse that makes you Sean Butler.’
Sean lifted his hand to meet hers. ‘I’ll tell you all about those impulses. And likewise, Cherry Paradise.’
After the cruise, they caught the subway north to Columbus Circle and walked into Central Park, where they meandered the numerous pathways, the rich smell of cut grass mingling with the aroma of hot dogs and honey roasted nuts, all enveloped in searing summer city heat.
‘What’s your mum like?’ Cherry asked as they passed a mother trying to placate two squabbling children.
Sean seemed to laugh at so much in life, and this question was no exception. ‘Really? Is that question on the fall in love list, too?’
‘It might be, but I’m curious.’ She rubbed the back of her neck, clammy in the heat, and noticed the loose strands of hair stuck there. ‘People’s relationships with their mothers intrigue me, possibly due to my own being a bit mercurial. Also, it can tell you a lot about a man.’
‘No judgment then.’ Sean walked tall with the confident air of a man who couldn’t care less about being judged.
‘My mum’s great. She’s weathered a lot. Escaped her first abusive husband, raised seven kids – three of whom were adopted at once – helped grow the distillery with my dad, dealt with the premature loss of him to a horrific disease.
We’re all protective of her because we know what she went through to get where she is today, but she’s a trooper. ’