Hollywood Hills and Suburban Thrills

"What do you mean you still have to go to New York? I thought we resolved this when we said we loved each other!" Will groans, giving me a sad look as I forced the zipper on my suitcase shut.

"Will, I just need some time to think."

"About what exactly?" He questions.

"About what I'm going to do next." I answer as I slid my shoes on. "Now are you going to be the nice boyfriend that drives me to the airport or are you going to make me take a cab?"

I didn't even have to ask twice. Will already had my suitcase in his hand and was wheeling it out of the room, mumbling under his breath. He had the deep-in-thought look on his face again and I stared at him from the living room area as he placed my suitcase in the foyer. Jude whimpered in his carry-on cage.

"See! Even Jude thinks you're making a mistake!" Will exclaims, pointing at Jude as he showed his face through the metal cage door, still whining.

"It's because he's going to miss Lucy, Will." I correct in an even voice as I walked across the living room to join my luggage and Will, dropping me duffel bag on the floor so I could adjust a zipper on my suitcase. When I stood upright again, Will had me in his arms and his chin was on my shoulder.

"But I'm going to miss you," he murmurs morosely and I fidgeted where I stood. "Doesn't that count for anything?"

I turned in his arms to face him, smiling cheerlessly at him. "Of course it counts for something. It counts for everything."

He stared at me beseechingly. "Then stay here," he pleas, "with me."

I couldn't say no to him. I would never be able to voice a refusal to him, so instead, I kissed him, trying to make him understand that I needed to do this in order to decide what I was going to do next. His arms tightened around me and I got the feeling that he sort of understood what I was saying through his physical gesture, and when we separated, he laid his forehead on mine, not breaking eye contact with me before sighing, "Okay," and grabbing my suitcase to put in his car.

The drive to the airport was too short and I tried to elongate the time I had left with Will by pretending to lose my boarding pass, fumbling with my iPod or cell phone, and stopping to tie my shoes multiple times. But I knew Will saw through this charade when he finally tied my shoe in triple knots after the fifth time of me stopping.
"Will, I don't want you being sad about this." I say when the flight attendant announced the boarding of the plane.

He gave me the sad eyes and he didn't have to say anything. I already knew that he wanted me to just stay in Chicago with him, but I also knew that I should go to New York for a while; to think about what I might be about to do.

"I'll try not to," he says, his voice saturated with reluctance as he cast a dark look toward the gate where a line of people was now beginning to form.

"Hey," I shook my head, placing my head on his cheek and turning it so he was looking back at me. "I love you," I say firmly, staring him in the eye. "And I'll be back soon. Two weeks. No more."

"And no less," he clarifies.

"You don't know that," I say and I smiled at the small glimmer that returned to his eyes. He stared at me for a long moment and then closed the space between us.

This kiss seemed so much more different than any other kiss from Will. There had always been emotion in his kisses, but this was a different kind of emotion. Pleading, sadness, longing; all of which I knew I couldn't bear to deal with now without there being penalties later. But he had his arms around me and my arms were locked around his neck as well, and I knew I wouldn't have been able to get away even if I had wanted to. I could hear the people walking by and scoffing at our "public display of affection", but I couldn't care less what they thought. In my head, there was no one but Will and me.

And then, the woman at the gate announced the final boarding of the flight and I flinched, breaking the kiss to turn and see that the line of people was gone. I must have been kissing Will longer than I had thought. I began to push away from him, through his fastened arms, but only until he caught my face between his hands and he was kissing me again, but gently this time. A one last chance to change my mind…

He pulled away and my eyes were still closed as he let his breath roll over my face.
"I love you too," he says in a low voice, and his hands were now longer secured behind me but instead were resting on my hips. I gave him one last hug and then, before I knew it, I was at the gate, handing my boarding pass to the woman who gave me a slightly revolted look. I barely caught it, however, because as she tore my boarding pass, I was turned around and looking at Will as he stared back at me, his hands tightly shoved into his pockets and his posture slightly slumped.

I smiled weakly at him and he returned it half-heartedly. I felt my knee buckle and my foot twisted toward him, ready to run back to him, but instead I walked forward with my duffel bag and onto the plane.

___________________________________________

The plane was descending rapidly now as I tiredly gazed out over the big city. I hadn't been in New York City in well over five years. I was afraid to find out how much it had changed—almost as terrified as I was to be reunited with my father.

But after a long descent, we touched down at JFK and taxied to the gate, but even as the passengers around me undid their seatbelts and started opening the overhead compartments, retrieving their many different cases of luggage, I remained in my seat, still staring at the same window watching the airport employees as they ran about on the ground, to and away from planes.

I won't sugar coat it—I was petrified to meet my father after such a long time of not seeing each other in person. We even talked on the phone for months—a year. I had no idea what to expect, and just the idea of not knowing what to look forward to scared the living hell out of me.

I thought of Will for a while. I thought of what he could possibly be doing in Chicago without me. Sitting around his apartment with Lucy, sad and alone? What if he was even at home? What if he was at a bar somewhere, drinking away whatever pain he had? I shook my head with quiet scoff. That's ridiculous. He's probably out with his friends. That's what I'd do were I in his position.

"Uh, excuse me ma'am," someone said, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned from the window to see a bleach blonde flight attendant smiling forcibly down at me. "I'm going to have to ask you to exit the aircraft now."

From my peripheral vision, I could see that every other passenger was off the plane, probably in the airport being welcomed by whatever company they're here to see: family, friends, coworkers, and there I was, sitting like a coward.

"Oh, sorry," I murmur pathetically, but she was already walking toward the front of the plane again.

I stood and pulled my duffel bag from the overhead compartment, placing it on my shoulder and then walking to the door of the plane. The same flight attendant gave me the same plastic smile. "Have a nice stay in New York City," she says synthetically and I had to fight back an eye-roll as I walked past.

The airport was swarming with people, just like I had expected it to be, and I made my trek to the luggage carousel automatically. This hadn't been my first time around the block; I had flown millions of times.

I made it to the carousel and stood alone, waiting as the conveyor belt finally began to move after a long fifteen minute wait. The people around stared at me, probably a little concerned with the fact that I had not moved in the fifteen minutes that I had been standing there.

I spotted my suitcase right away and darted forward to grab it before I had to walk after it. I pulled the handle up on it, setting it on its wheels, and then grabbed my duffel bag once more and started toward the airport exit. I saw the exit finally and I felt my legs starting to move faster, but as soon as I was about fifty feet from the door, my phone rang, stopping me in my tracks. I already knew who was on the other end of that phone call.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the little screen and my presumption was confirmed.

"Hey Dad," I ask and I was disgusted with how fragile my voice sounded.

"Hey Dani," I smashed the hope that bloomed when I heard him not call me 'Danielle'. "Where are you?"

I looked around, but I already had a main idea of where I was. "Almost to the front exit of the airport. Where're you?"

"Right outside," he answers. "I'll come to the doors and help you with your stuff."

"I only have two bags, Dad," I say, resuming my slow walk toward the doors. "just tell me what kind of car I'm looking for."

"You'll recognize it. I've got someone holding a sign with your name on it because I didn't know how long it would be until you got here. I've been waiting at this airport for over two hours now and I was thinking I would need to take a nap if it took much longer." I couldn't help it—I smiled and hummed in accordance.

I made it out into the warm late-summer air of New York City and was welcomed by a plethora of different cars. I looked around, waiting to see the sign with my name at it, and finally, my eyes connected with it and my thoughts silenced in shock.

There stood a man I did not know, holding a sign with the word 'DANI' on it in huge red letters, and behind him was a huge black Cadillac Escalade. I walked toward him, receiving a warm smile when I was within earshot.

"Hello, Ms. Taylor," he man says very formally, taking my duffel bag and suitcase from me, completely ignoring my protests, and placing them in the back of the huge car. And then, he was holding the door open for me. Feeling a little put off by his formality, I climbed into the car as the door was swung shut behind me.

"Yeah. Yeah, wait, no, of course not." A man says into his cell phone once I was in the car. I put on my seatbelt slowly, giving the man an odd stare, but he gave me a half smile and held up one finger, indicating that he needed a moment as he turned back to his cell phone conversation. "No, tell them I don't want that. Tell them to look in their e-mail because I sent it to them." Who ever was on the other end of that phone was saying something, and then he spoke again, more gently this time. "Okay, tell them to have a look at that and then get back to me." And then his phone was snapped shut and he was looking at me, a smile on his face.

"Can I help you?" I ask confusedly, staring at the man.

"No hug for your dad?" he asks light heartedly, raising his arms expectantly.

My jaw dropped in utter astonishment. I didn't recognize my own father. I gazed down at my knees in shame, blubbering on with a lame attempt at an apology, but my dad waved it off.

"Don't worry about it, I completely understand. It's been a while since we've seen each other in person."

I nodded, a small and forced smile on my lips, but my dad was still smiling genuinely, obviously not having any lingering thoughts about the little mishap that just happened.

"You've changed since I last saw you." I try pathetically.

"You were sixteen the last time I saw you," he laughs and I felt my stomach untighten. "And look at you now—turning twenty."

There was a blast from the past. My birthday was the next and I had completely forgotten about it. I was about to turn twenty and I didn't remember until hours beforehand.

"Forget your own birthday, Dani?" he jokes. I nodded, trying to hide the blush. "Well good thing I remembered because I'm throwing a party for you tomorrow."

I looked at him. "Really?"

He gave me another warm grin. "Well, of course. I've got to welcome my little girl into the big city somehow, and what better way than throwing a birthday party?"

I smiled at him, looking into his eyes; they were the same greenish grey as mine, and they were sparkling. "Thanks, Dad." And I decided that maybe this stay in New York wouldn't be so bad.