I Will Always Love You Page 26

  “This is from me,” Fiona said, smiling as she held a thin, silver-wrapped present toward Serena. Serena slid her finger under the tape and eagerly ripped off the wrapping paper. Inside was a photo album. On the inside cover was inscribed:

  To Serena—

  “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.”—St. Augustine.

  Enjoy!

  Love, Fiona

  “Oh my God, so cool!” Serena grinned as she flipped through the pages. Fiona had traveled the world for two years before she started college, a fact that always made Serena envious. Serena had always wanted to do that, but the closest she’d come was a few weeks in the south of France when she was a senior in high school. Inside were pages of photographs, hand-drawn maps, contact lists, and need-to-know information about different countries and cities around the world. “Did you really make this?” Serena asked.

  “I know you like adventure, but you’d be well off to avoid making my travel mistakes.” Fiona winked.

  “Not like you’ll have too much time to travel. Once you find a job, you’ll really need to buckle down for those first few years,” Mr. van der Woodsen remarked as he peered over Serena’s shoulder.

  Serena smiled tightly. She’d tell her parents about the Iowa plan after she told Dan.

  “This is great, Fiona,” she said, continuing to flip through the pages. As she came across a photo of Carnivale in Spain, it dawned on her that a life spent with Dan in Iowa wouldn’t leave her much opportunity to travel. They wouldn’t have any money, and he’d be too busy writing all the time. Serena felt unexpected tears spring to her eyes.

  She rubbed her eye with her index finger, as if she were just readjusting a contact lens.

  Fiona winked at her. “Now what do you say we set up a Bloody Mary bar in the kitchen?”

  Serena nodded and trailed behind Fiona toward the kitchen, feeling deflated. Fiona saw her as an adventurous, gutsy girl who needed practical travel tips for Belize and Thailand. Instead, her grand adventure was booking a one-way ticket to a flat state few New Yorkers could point to on a map.

  Well, maybe if she moves there, people will start to visit.

  “Essa!” Moxie blurted happily from Ruby’s hip as Ruby opened the paint-caked door to her Prospect Heights walk-up on Christmas Day. Moxie was dressed in a T-shirt with a pigeon wearing oversize headphones and black leggings, her thin brown hair tied in two sloppy braids. She looked like a very short Williamsburg hipster.

  “Merry Christmas, little sis!” Ruby hugged Vanessa warmly. Ruby wore a pair of gray pajama pants and a black SugarDaddy tank top with no bra. Behind her, Piotr had on red Santa-print flannel pants and a felt Santa hat. As children, Ruby and Vanessa had never celebrated Christmas. Their dad was Jewish and their mom thought the holiday was too commercial. Ruby was obviously determined to let Moxie have her fun with Santa.

  “Merry Christmas, guys!” Vanessa exclaimed, breezing into their cheerful one-bedroom apartment. It looked so domestic, with a silver garland wrapped along the molding of the ceiling, a pile of presents in the corner, and a small tree in the center of the room. The only relic from their artistic past was the large painting of a nude figure astride a bull mastiff dog wedged behind the couch.

  “Watch this.” Ruby grinned as she picked up Moxie and put her next to the pile of presents. Moxie curiously pulled on a silver bow and then tossed the present back under the tree.

  “She doesn’t really get it yet.” Ruby shrugged. Vanessa grinned absently, her mind a million miles away. What would Christmas be like in Indonesia? What if she didn’t make any friends and her movie sucked? What if while she was gone, Dan and Serena got engaged?

  Which apocalyptic scenario does not belong with the others?

  “Hello?” Ruby snapped her fingers in front of Vanessa’s face, breaking her out of her reverie.

  “I got that Filmmakers for Change grant to go to Indonesia for two years. Everything paid for.” Vanessa grinned shyly. Saying it made her feel better, more sure of herself. The grant was an honor most young filmmakers only dreamed of.

  “Oh my God!” Ruby squealed, hugging her.

  “God!” Moxie yelled happily from the floor, the silver bow clutched in her chubby hands. Ruby rolled her eyes. “Piotr, Vanessa’s going to Indonesia!”

  “Well, I mean, I got it, but—”

  “But you are going,” Piotr said in his slow, careful English from the couch.

  “There goes our free babysitting,” Ruby said mournfully. “Just kidding,” she added quickly.

  Vanessa smiled wanly. Could she really do this? The fellowship was for two years, and while theoretically she could visit home, she couldn’t imagine a trip back to the U.S. would be cheap. And two years was sort of a long time. Moxie would be talking in full sentences by then. What if she didn’t even remember Vanessa?

  “Should I go?” she asked in a small voice she didn’t quite recognize as her own.

  Ruby pursed her lips together as she sat down next to Piotr. “Well, I met Piotr when I left for that SugarDaddy foreign tour. I was scared too, but it all worked out so totally well.”

  “Same for me,” Piotr said in his still heavily accented English. “I came to the U.S. because I fell in love.”

  “Like that’s the only reason? You also said you couldn’t wait to try New York City pizza.” Ruby shot Piotr a skeptical look. “Vanessa, you’re twenty-one. You need to get out and see the world!” Ruby said in her big-sister voice.

  Vanessa nodded slowly. She’d lived in New York for the past seven years of her life. A change would be good. But all she could think about was how far Indonesia was from Iowa….

  Here we go again.

  on the street where b lives

  Blair surveyed the brightly colored wooden block tower she’d built in the center of Yale’s nursery and nodded in satisfaction. The Waldorf-Rose family had always opened presents first thing in the morning, and right now Tyler was in his room, setting up a bunch of DJ equipment he’d gotten, Aaron had taken the train to Scarsdale to visit his mom and friends from high school, Cyrus and Eleanor were grossly feeding each other eggs at the breakfast table, and Blair was happy to be hanging out with Yale.

  “Yale, over here!” she cajoled. Her sister sat in the corner, setting up her stuffed animals in an elaborate pile. She had determined that none of the other stuffed toys liked the giraffe, so she’d relegated it to the far corner of the room.

  It starts early.

  Blair’s cell buzzed, skittering on the hardwood floor. She glanced down at the display. Chuck. His flight had probably just landed, and Blair couldn’t wait to see him.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  “I want to talk!” Yale demanded, reaching for the phone.

  “No,” Blair snapped, yanking the phone from Yale’s little hand. “Hey,” she said sweetly as she settled into the pink glider by the dormer window in the corner.

  “Merry Christmas, gorgeous,” Chuck said.

  “Are you back?” Blair asked eagerly. After so much time apart, she was looking forward to an uninterrupted month together.

  “I’m at the Village apartment,” Chuck said, referring to the Cornelia Street one-bedroom his parents had bought him for his twenty-first birthday. He’d barely lived in it at all, since he was at Oxford all year and they’d spent most of last summer in the south of France. “Can you come over? There’s something I want you to see,” he added mysteriously.

  “Yale, go find Tyler,” Blair commanded, leaving the nursery and heading next door to the guest room where she’d been staying. “See you soon,” she said into the phone before hanging up.

  Once Blair emerged showered, shaved, and wearing a black silk Theory high-necked silk dress that was just the right combination of nice and naughty, she took the elevator to the lobby and had the doorman catch one of the many empty cabs that was sailing down Central Park West.

  The city looked beautiful, like the front of a holiday card. Snow was be
ginning to fall, but the sun was shining brightly and reflecting the light off all of the Midtown skyscrapers. Blair sighed happily. She loved New York in the winter. Anyone could love the city in the summer, when cafés set up tables outside and you could spend hours sitting on the steps of the Met drinking iced coffees. But in the winter, you had to seek out the things that made New York magical: steak frites at Le Refuge, cuddling into a warm Searle peacoat, your hand intertwined with an adorable boy’s.

  “Thanks,” Blair said when the cab turned off Sixth Avenue and onto Cornelia Street. Cornelia was Blair’s middle name. It felt like destiny.

  She stood in front of the five-story brick building and pressed buzzer number two, stamping her feet against the cold. Chuck buzzed her in and she quickly ran up the steps, surprised to see him standing in front of the black apartment door.

  “Hi!” Blair threw her arms around his broad shoulders. He wore a pair of khakis and a dark blue button-down, and his hair was a little longer than it had been at Thanksgiving.

  “Merry Christmas,” Chuck breathed. He kissed her and Blair eagerly kissed him back. “Your present’s inside. It’s a surprise,” he breathed into her ear. It was then that she realized Chuck was tying a blindfold over her eyes.

  Now that’s what I call a Christmas present.

  Blair readjusted the blindfold so it wouldn’t flatten her hair. Chuck placed his hands on her shoulders and directed her inside. Blair heard the pop of a champagne cork. Was that the surprise?

  “You can take it off.”

  Blair reached up and swept the blindfold, which was actually one of Chuck’s flamingo pink ties, off her forehead. She blinked in surprise. Before, the one-bedroom apartment had been decorated in blacks and grays, with leather couches and ottomans and chrome tables and silver lighting fixtures. Now, it was decorated in shades of pewter and lavender, the walls painted a soft dove color. An antique silver mirror hung over the fireplace, and there were fresh-cut flowers on the long walnut dining room table.

  “To us,” Chuck said simply, handing Blair a glass of champagne. “Welcome home, Blair-Bear.” Besides her dad, Chuck was the only person who ever called her Blair-Bear.

  “Why… what…” Blair trailed off. The apartment was beautiful, but what did it mean? Did he mean he wanted her to move in with him? She’d never really thought about where she’d live when she moved to the city after college, but she’d always assumed it would be on the Upper East Side.

  “Since we’ll both be back in the city for good once we graduate, our apartment should feel more like our home. If there’s anything you don’t like, the decorator will work with you. This is just the beginning. I can’t wait for us to live together.” Chuck cupped her chin and kissed her.

  Blair pulled away. “It’s very nice,” she said faintly, glancing around the living room. She tried to imagine sitting at the head of the table, hosting dinner parties. Setting up Fresh Direct deliveries and carefully placing perishables in the Sub-Zero refrigerator in the sunny south-facing kitchen. Taking showers together in the morning and then picking out clothes in the side-by-side closets in the bedroom.

  It was the life Blair had always wanted… but did she really want it so soon? It was one thing to live together for a few months in Oxford, but another to live together for the foreseeable future. Did this mean they were engaged? Suddenly, her mind flashed back to the conversation with Chuck’s mom. Everything was moving too quickly. “I think I need to sit down,” Blair choked, settling on a lavender-upholstered wingback chair.

  Chuck held out a champagne flute and perched on the chair arm. “Here you go. Merry Christmas,” he said, brushing his lips against her cheek.

  “Merry Christmas!” Blair parroted, clinking her champagne flute a little too forcefully against Chuck’s.

  Would she have rather he kept on the blindfold?

  the trouble with fairy tales is that they always end

  On the day after Christmas, Jenny stood outside her apartment building, stamping her tiny feet on the sidewalk to keep warm. She wore knee-high boots and her favorite red wool coat. Her dark brown hair was loose around her shoulders, and even though her ears were freezing, there was no way in hell she’d risk hat-head.

  Nate was going to pick her up any second to see The Nutcracker, and she didn’t want to bring him upstairs and subject him to her dad. Rufus meant well, but he could be overprotective, and didn’t entirely approve of Nate. Rufus remembered all too well how hysterical Jenny had been when they’d broken up her freshman year of high school, and no amount of explaining would convince him that Nate was different now.

  A town car glided down the street and came to a stop in front of her building. Nate rolled down the back window, and Jenny’s heart thudded against her chest. Most of the time Nate was just Nate, the boyfriend whom she woke up to every morning and who became grumpy if he didn’t eat breakfast. But at times like these, Jenny was reminded of the dreamy, gorgeous, almost unapproachable boy she’d first fallen in love with when she was only fifteen.

  “Hi.” Nate smiled his adorable, lopsided grin as the chauffeur rushed around the door to let Jenny in. She scooted onto the leather seat beside Nate.

  “Meow!” Jenny nuzzled her nose into his neck and breathed in his delicious boy scent.

  The town car turned down Broadway, where the sidewalks were crowded with people ducking in and out of the stores still decorated for Christmas.

  “I’m excited!” Jenny said, intertwining her fingers with his. She and Nate had seen The Nutcracker four years ago when she was a freshman, and she’d loved it. Back then she’d been too amazed by the fact that Nate was sitting next to her and holding her hand to pay any attention to the performance. Then they’d made out in Central Park and then… well, she wasn’t going to think about what happened next: Vanessa Abrams had unwittingly filmed them goofing around in the snow, including Nate playfully pulling down Jenny’s pants. The footage of Jenny’s bare butt wound up on the Internet. Jenny smoothed her DVF dress down on her lap, as if to remind herself to keep her clothing in place.

  For now, anyway.

  “Me too,” Nate said as the car lurched between stoplights. He’d seen The Nutcracker every year since he was born—usually with Blair—so he was kind of over it by now, but Jenny’s enthusiasm was contagious.

  The car pulled up in front of the sprawling Lincoln Center complex of glass-and-iron-wrapped concrete buildings. Jenny smiled happily. “’Bye!” she yelled to the driver.

  Nate held her hand as he led her to the New York State Theater building. Jenny felt like she was in a fairy tale. She imagined them in ten years: Jenny would be a freelance graphic artist and Nate would be a high-powered lawyer. Every year, the day after Christmas, they’d bring their two kids to The Nutcracker.

  Nate led them to orchestra seats. A set of blond toddler triplets sat next to Jenny on one side, and on Nate’s other side were four elderly ladies with grayish-blond bouffants lacquered two inches above their Botoxed foreheads. They were practically screaming as they bragged to each other about their grandkids. Jenny frowned. This wasn’t what she’d imagined. Maybe it would get better once the show began?

  The lights dimmed and one of the toddlers next to her started shrieking. Jenny tried not to be frustrated, but this was supposed to be their big night out in New York, and suddenly it didn’t feel romantic or magical at all. It felt like a field trip gone wrong.

  Nate leaned back in the plush velvet chair. He’d been baked every other time he saw The Nutcracker. Maybe it would be really cool sober.

  Or maybe not.

  Nate smiled as the giant tree grew out of the slick black stage of the New York State Theatre. That used to be Blair’s favorite scene. After that, she’d get antsy and they’d usually skip the second act to drink cappuccinos in the lobby and spy on the couples walking around the promenade below.

  Nate closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like if Blair was here. She’d looked terrific at her mom’s dinner party. And
so had Serena. It had been unnerving, the way they’d kept giggling whenever they glanced toward him and Jenny. And then they’d excused themselves to the terrace and when they finally reentered, they smiled sneakily at him. He knew them too well and was pretty sure they’d been talking about him. And no matter how much he loved Jenny, he wanted to know what they’d been saying.

  Nate realized everyone around him was clapping. Was the first act over already? He clapped politely. “Want a cappuccino?” he asked Jenny. Suddenly, he didn’t really feel like being there.

  “Sure.” Jenny shrugged, looking so innocent and sweet that Nate felt a weird lump in his throat like he was going to cry.

  Imagine if he was stoned….

  “So, what did you think of the show?” Jenny asked later. They were in the library of Nate’s town house, sitting side by side on the tan calfskin couch, drinking merlot out of Riedel glasses. A sailboat documentary played on the flat screen in front of them. Nate had been quiet for the rest of the show, even during the romantic end when Clara and the prince are finally together, happily ever after.

  “Nate?” Jenny asked again, realizing he was sound asleep, his head flopped against his shoulder. Jenny sighed in frustration. This was not how she’d expected the evening to play out. She’d been hoping they would come back and sit in front of the fire, not the flat screen, and that they’d be drinking wine and whispering sweet nothings to each other, not asking each other questions like they were strangers.

  Jenny bounced up and down on the couch, hoping he’d wake up. It wasn’t even eleven yet, and she was still all dressed up. If she wasn’t going to get undressed by her boyfriend, she didn’t want the outfit to go to waste. Suddenly she realized that tonight was Tyler’s party, the one he’d e-mailed her about. It would be fun to just go out and dance and not feel like she was part of an old married couple.

  Jenny debated waking Nate up, but he looked so cute and peaceful lying there that she felt it was better to just leave him be. She grabbed a tartan Asprey throw from a corner club chair and carefully tucked it around him, then took her purse and tiptoed into the living room, thankful that Nate’s parents were on vacation and she had the town house to herself.