Page 21 of Time To Live Again

I crack up. “Not at all. I love it. You’re having fun.”

“More than fun. I came here to figure out my life because it looks nothing like I dreamed of.” Her voice drifts off. “You know what? I want to forget my problems this week. Want to help me with that?”

“I’ll do anything for you.” We both startle when a firework goes off in the distance, followed by a loud boom. “Damn, that scared me. They should’ve warned us beforehand,” I quip. Olive shivers next to me. “You’re cold. Should we go inside where the party is?”

She shakes her head. “I’m a little chilly, but I’d rather stay out here. If that’s okay.”

“Sure. I’m not going anywhere. When I celebrate New Year’s here, I sit on this bench to watch.” I place the empty bottle alongside our glasses on the grass.

“It’s so romantic out here with the lanterns in the tree and the fireworks over the water.” A loud bang goes off, and white sizzling stars burst in the air, cascading down until they disappear. Olive shivers again.

From my coat pocket, I retrieve tissues. “I’ve brought a blanket. Let me clean the bench first.”

Olive offers to help. I hand her a tissue and, together, we dry it off as much as possible.

“That should be good enough,” I declare, collecting the used tissues. She passes me one more, and I stuff the bundle into a glass.

“I don’t care if my coat gets a little dirty.” She plops down on the seat and crosses her legs. I follow suit, sitting closer to her than before.

I pull the blanket off the arm of the bench. “I’m getting a little cold too. Can we share?”

“Of course. We’re BFFs, don’t forget.”

I drape the woolen blanket over our laps. She tucks herself under it almost like a barrier. “Afraid I’ll make a move on you?”

“Don’t lions pounce? I have to protect myself from wild animals.” She covers her mouth and simpers.

“See, you do have a sense of humor. It might be a little rusty, but it’s not too late. Oh! Let me check the time.” I swat my thigh, and she twitches.

“Jeez, Leo. What’s the matter?”

“Less than thirty minutes until twelve! Then we can slam the door on this year and I can shave this damn mustache off.”

She lets out a belly laugh. “You’re freaking crazy.”

“That I can confirm, but I think you secretly love it.” She shrugs, but I see her lips twitching. “Come on. Admit it.”

A grin breaks through. “Fine. I love it.”

“See, that wasn’t too hard.”

She motions toward my mouth. “Are you really going to shave it off?”

“Yep. Right after the fireworks, I’ll head over to my place and chop off this lip sweater.”

She elbows me. “Lip sweater. Another good one. I think I like it better than fiesta fuzz.” She must have overheard my conversation with Ellie at the café. “Anyway, do you live nearby?”

“I live in a private cottage over there.” I point to the left of the main part of the hotel. “We have four, and they’re fully equipped. I stay in one, and my brother’s in another. I travel a lot, so it suits my needs.”

“I overheard you say you’re leaving in two weeks. Aren’t you the manager here?”

“I’m a hotel critic. I write articles for travel magazines and websites. When I’m not out on an assignment, I come home. Then if the actual manager of the hotel wants to take a vacation, I fill in.”

More fireworks go off, and guests trickle down from the hotel and party. I study Olive’s perfect profile as she observes the people passing by and how her face lights up like this is the first time she’s seeing fireworks. I’ve seen the show from this spot for years, but I won’t ever forget this one.

“Only a few minutes to go,” I say. “Ready?”

“Yes. Good thing—you’re quite boring,” she jabs. “I need a little more entertainment.”

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