Christmas in Bethel

Chapter Thirteen

In the cocktail party of life, it is my present self’s responsibility to see that my past self and my future self stay as far apart as possible.

Beth Stilton’s Diary

After dinner, Lee and Carlie spoke for a moment, then Lee and I separated from the group. We walked down Thirty-Sixth, then hailed a cab at the corner. After we were in, I said, “That was probably the best meal I’ve ever had.” I looked at him. “Definitely the best day.”

He looked at me for a moment, then he took off his seat belt and slid over next to me. He put his hand around the back of my head and brought me into him. We began to kiss. The city, in all its energy and glory, passed by us unwitnessed. We kissed until we reached the hotel. Lee told me to stay where I was, he paid the driver, then came around the car, took my hand, and helped me out.

This was new territory for me. I had never felt so special or cared for in my entire life. But, as they say, the price of happiness is the risk of losing it, and fear began to seep up in my chest like groundwater. What if he grew bored with me? What if he met some other fan in some other Starbucks, and I stopped hearing from him? I pushed the fear from my mind. This time was worth it, no matter what price I had to pay. Or so I tried to convince myself.

We came out of the elevator and walked down the hallway, stopping between our two rooms. The hall was quiet with no one else around except for a room service waitress who hurried by with a friendly hello. He gently pressed me back against the hallway wall and we kissed more. It was so nice.

“You look so sleepy,” I said as we parted. I ran my finger down the bridge of his nose to his lips. “Sleepy and handsome.”

“Not too sleepy,” he said, almost slurring his words.

“Want to come in and watch a movie?”

“What do you want to watch?”

I grinned. “Does it matter?”

He sighed pleasantly. “I’m going to brush my teeth. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll leave the door ajar,” I said.

He went into his room, and I went into mine. I wished I had brought fancier sleepwear—not that what I had was bad. I had brought a one-piece sleep shirt, which was formfitting and cute. I slid it on, then went and brushed my teeth. I went back out to the bedroom. I was pulling down the duvet as Lee came to my door.

“Knock,” he said.

“Come in.”

He stepped inside. He hadn’t really changed much, except to lose his jacket, tie, and shoes, roll up his sleeves, and unbutton his top button.

“You look pretty,” he said.

“Thank you. You look handsome.” I pushed the pillows back against the headboard. “Lie down, please.”

He sat on the bed, then lifted his feet up and lay back into the pillows while I turned on the television.

“Let’s see what they have.” I began scrolling through the selections, then stopped at a comedy romance. “How about this?” I asked, turning back. His eyes were closed.

“Lee?”

His breathing grew louder and more rhythmic. I walked over to his side of the bed and saw that he was fast asleep.

“Not enough jet fuel,” I said softly. I crawled onto the bed next to him. For a moment I just looked into his face. He had such a beautiful face. It was strong and masculine. But even more, it was kind. Two thoughts, born from my life experience, clouded my mind. How did I end up here? How is this going to end?