Page 36 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

“Do you remember that flight we were on together back in June?” Loïc asks.

“Of course. How could I forget?” I answer playfully.

“Remember how annoying you were?”

“Hey!” I hit him on his chest. “Well, I couldn’t have been that annoying because you kissed me out of the blue. Aw…that was our first kiss. Is that why you thought about that flight?”

“No, though that was a definite highlight. I was actually thinking about your Twenty Questions game and how you were so irritatingly curious and persistent and wanted to be all up in my business.” He chuckles.

“I couldn’t help it. When I see something I want, I can be very persistent.”

“That you can.” He’s quiet for a moment. “That’s what I want to do tonight.”

“What?”

“I want to play a version of your game. I want to learn as much about you as I can before I go. While I’m over there, I want to have a plethora of information to choose from when I think about you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. But don’t you already know everything about me?” I turn my face to the side to stare into his blue depths.

Loïc lies on his side, his head propped up by his hand, as he faces me. “I know a lot but definitely not everything. I had no idea that you were a trained figure skater.”

“A minor oversight.” I snuggle into his side.

“Well, there are other things I don’t know. For example, um…what is your favorite childhood memory?”

“That’s a hard one!” I exclaim. “Let me think. Oh, I got it. Okay, so once, when I was about ten and Georgia was eight, we were staying in this rental house up in the hills, by Gatlinburg. I don’t remember why we were staying there. It might have been a vacation, or more than likely, my dad had business nearby. It was spring—beginning of April, I think. There was a late-season snowstorm, tons of snow…like, up to my knees. We lost power, and cars couldn’t go up or down the hill with all the snow. The power was out for almost two days, and my dad couldn’t work during that time. Also, the catering company couldn’t get up the hill to bring us meals. So, for two days, we ate random snacks from the pantry—chips, Teddy Grahams, dry cereal, stuff like that. Dad made a fire in the fireplace, and the four of us played board games all night by the light and warmth of the fire. We had an epic Monopoly battle going on. Georgia ended up winning, but I’m almost positive she snuck some money.” I smile, thinking about that night. “It was such a wonderful couple of days. I had uninterrupted time with my entire family. I don’t remember ever laughing so much or having that much fun. It’s something so simple, but that’s what stands out to me as the best memory.”

“I love that story,” Loïc answers.

“What’s yours?”

“I think it was probably the last Christmas that my grandparents were able to come over from England. I was five. I don’t remember everything about the day, honestly. I was so young, but bits and pieces come back to me from time to time. I remember my mom was often sad, but she was especially happy that day. I recall my granddad being really funny. He was always doing weird things.

“I remember my dad and Nan working together in the kitchen, making Christmas dinner. They were belting out Beatles songs. Even at that age, I knew that neither of them could carry a tune, but it didn’t matter; it was so fun to listen to them. They both loved to laugh a lot.

“I don’t even recall what presents I got that day. Legos maybe? But the thing that stands out the most about it was just the feeling of complete joy. We were all so happy. After my parents died, that feeling of joy got me through a lot of hard nights. I drew on that memory to give me strength. Over the years, the details have faded, but the immense sense of happiness never has.”

“That’s beautiful, Loïc,” I say in a whisper. “It’s kind of neat that the central focus of both of our memories is family and the feeling of happiness. I guess it shows what’s important in life, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I suppose it does,” Loïc says thoughtfully.

“Oh, I have an idea!” I grab Loïc’s arm and squeeze with excitement.

“Yeah?” He looks amused.

“How about, while you’re gone, we can play a really long Twenty Questions game? So, every email I send, I’ll ask you a question, and when you respond, you’ll answer it and then ask me a question. Of course, when you ask a question, you have to answer it as well. It will be fun, something to look forward to, you know?”

“That sounds great,” he agrees. “Actually, that will be cool because a lot of what goes on over there, I won’t be able to share with you. So, now, I’ll have something to write to you besidesI love youandI’m still alive.”

My eyes open wide as I gasp. “Don’t even joke about that, Loïc. That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t mean it to be funny, London, but things happen sometimes. It’s a possibility.” His face wears an expression of remorse.

My eyes fill with tears. “It’s not. You’ll be fine. You’ll be back, but you have to think positively. Promise me that you won’t say anything like that again. I mean, I could walk out my front door and get hit by a car tomorrow, but I’m not going to wake up and say,Hope I don’t die today.”

“Yeah, but my situation is a little different.”

“Maybe, but can we pretend it’s not? Let’s just look forward to when you come back, safe and sound, okay? I can’t handle thinking about the alternative. To me, there is no alternative. There can’t be one for you either. Got it? Promise me that you’ll come back to me.”

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