the kitchen island after London. I hold out the attached card.
To Lila, on the occasion of your birthday. I trust you’ll use these to make many wonderful things back home.
Regards, Polly
PS. Your lemon biscuits and fig pastries and Cuban breads were quite edible.
“Quite edible,” I repeat in my best British accent. “But how did she try my pan Cubano and all the rest?”
Orion takes the spoons, admiring them. “That’s on me. Polly still comes into Maxwell’s for tea. I’ve been sharing samples of the treats you send home the entire summer.” He shrugs. “I guess this is a bit of a peace offering. A lovely gesture, as well.”
I shake my head, smiling. “It is. I’ll leave a thank-you note for you to give her.” For when I’m gone—I don’t say this part. I rest the beautiful spoons and grab his hand. “Now it’s time to dance.”
Steps later, I’m floating down on his arm, catching a few stray smiles from inn guests as we move toward the foyer. Orion hangs a left; the parlor doors are shut, a sign tacked over the entrance. Closed for private event.
He ushers me into a smaller, cozier version of the senior prom I never had. Cheers and greetings flood my ears as I try to take in everything at once. All our friends are here, even the Goldline members, turned out in makeshift prom finery. Orion’s dad and Cate and Spencer huddle by the big picture window. A strobe light throws bright fragments around the softly lit space. Hugs—everyone comes up. My arms are full of people.
Jules appears last, rocking finger wave curls and a black strapless dress. Layers of polka-dot tulle poke from under the tea length hem. She squeezes me tight, my words of thanks in her ear. “Aww, we had fun with all this.” She grins. “Happy birthday, my friend. Come look, we moved all the sofas so there’s room for dancing.”
She and Orion lead me around the transformed space. Remy’s parents brought platters of fruit, chips (and my favorite curry sauce) and mini sliders. All of the parlor tables are grouped near the buffet, but it’s what’s on top that has me staring in disbelief.
“Wait. Centerpieces?” And then I realize they’re everywhere. Mismatched centerpieces, all colors and sizes, decorate tables and the bar area, even the fireplace mantle.
“Unfortunately, you can’t take them home and make your mother’s covert floral aspirations come true. We borrowed these from a bunch of local businesses. They need to go back tomorrow, but we thought…”
“Everything.” He brought Miami to my English party. “You thought of everything. Thank you doesn’t even work.”
“Your smile does,” Orion says.
Gordon leans in from behind. “Not an ombre carnation in sight. We made sure of that.”
My night flows, sweet and dreamlike. Music pipes through and I dance with everyone, even Orion’s dad and Spencer. But all my dancing parts are most at home with a prom date I didn’t even know I was waiting for, on a milestone night I’d wished away.
Is there a superstition about things you let go of, only to be surprised later with a version of them that’s so much better? I have the better now. But I don’t want to ask Orion anything. I only want to do what I’m doing—dancing with him so closely there’s no room for any holy deities between us. My head sinks heavy on his shoulder and his hands link into the small of my back. Song after song.
Sometime later, pictures and voices in my head creep over the soft ballad.
“You went all tense just now,” he says.
“Before you knocked, I started packing and each item reminded me of something we did when I wore it. And I don’t want to ruin this night, but I can’t stop seeing the ticket.”
He draws circles on my bare back. “I won’t say any more about day by day because we only have two days left. But look, I didn’t go to my prom either. And now I have this night. I left school thinking I wouldn’t and now I do, Lila.”
“So do I.” And one cheated moment is better than an entire champagne-gowned life with another boy who was my yesterday, but doesn’t fit into my now anymore.
And what about mañana? What and who and where fits into that? Orion fits me close, warm, and wanted into his today. But even after the way he kissed me, the way he honors me tonight, he still can’t talk about tomorrow.
I find ways to snap back,