Behind the Scenes

Chapter Eighteen

The morning after the storm arrives on a pink and yellow dawn against blue skies. Dew clings to everything, even the sides of the buildings that are still cast in shade, and the air is somewhat crisper, heralding the coming fall. In fact, it feels about ten degrees cooler in the shade than it does in the sun, and I shiver on the sidewalk outside Joe's hotel. He immediately takes off his blue button-down and sets it on my shoulders. 

          "Here," he says, pulling it snug around me, covering my bare arms from the morning breeze. If I'm being totally honest, it's nerves that have me feeling jittery more than it is the temperature.

          I've never been good at goodbyes. 

          His shirt is soft and warm from his body, and I surreptitiously turn my nose toward the collar to see if it smells like him. It does. 

          "You can give that back to me the next time we see each other," he says as he rubs heat into my arms. My lips part--whether it's in surprise or because I'd normally have some clever rejoinder at the ready, I'm not sure--but there's nothing I can think of to say that won't sound pathetically needy. It could be six months or six years before we next see each other again. I don't know, and the not knowing kills me, but I'll be damned if I start asking for promises he can't make.

          A taxi idles on the street behind me, its back door open and waiting. The driver clears his throat. 

          Joe presses his forehead to mine. 

          "Livi? Talk to me."

          I clear my quickly thickening throat. I'm afraid that if I try to talk, I'll cry. 

          "I suck at this," I manage, attempting to laugh, but my voice catches on the second word. I clear my throat again and blink rapidly against the burning in my eyes. Joe tilts my chin up and presses his lips gently against mine, then pulls me into a bear hug. 

          "Text me as soon as your phone's back on," he murmurs against my ear. 

          "Okay," I whisper into his shoulder. 

          "Promise me."

          "Okay," I say again, because it's the only thing I can say without breaking down. 

          Boy, am I pathetic. 

          If I don't go now, I'll turn into a total mess, so I back up onto the street and then into the back of the cab. Joe leans his forearm on the roof of the car and holds the door open until I'm buckled in. 

          "You sure you have to go?" he asks, and just about breaks my heart in the process. He must see the devastation etched across my face, because he raises his eyebrows while the corners of his mouth dip downward as he registers my expression. He swoops down and cups my jaw in his palm before covering my mouth with his. This kiss is much more intense, and I know this is the last goodbye. I kiss him back fiercely all while squeezing my eyes as tight as they'll go against the onslaught of tears just waiting to be unleashed. 

          When the kiss is over, our lips hover less than an inch away from each other, like there's a magnetic pull keeping us close. Joe's nose brushes the tip of mine. 

          "I'll talk to you soon," he says while my eyes are still closed, his breath fluttering against my skin. Then all at once, he's gone. He closes the cab door between us and shoves his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. The driver puts his signal on and checks over his shoulder to merge into traffic. 

          I press my fingertips to the window as we pull away from the curb. Joe extracts his right hand from his pocket and holds it up in a salute. I watch over my shoulder as we continue down the road, the tears finally cascading down my face when Joe can't see, as he places his hand over his heart.