Dolly (Part three-Max Mitchell series)

EIGHTEEN

"Are you sure you want to let this place go? It's amazing!" I queried, opening up the seventh floor window of his small but adorable apartment. He was situated just outside of London's city center, and his rent was unbelievably cheap. The view alone was worth twice what he paid each month.
"Unless we're gonna pay for two places, we've got to let it go. If we need a place to stay, we can call my sister or my Mum."
"It's too small anyway. I've seen her closet." Emma added as she entered the apartment. "Max. I've missed you. " She said as she gave me a good strangling (a hug).
"I missed you too. Thank you so much for getting everything started here, it's a big help."
"Well, he doesn't have much, so it's been pretty easy."
"Who wants to move a bunch of furniture across the ocean anyway?" Tom said, as he flopped down on his small but decently made sofa.
"I'm going to go change, and we can start packing up. Ok?"
They both nodded to me, as I grabbed my bag and went looking for the "loo". I find that nickname far more endearing than calling it the "shitter" like my male cousins do. I pulled out a pair of black crop leggings and my trusty Bulldogs tshirt. The hair went up in a ponytail, and I was ready to get down to business. I opened the door, and Emma was there, waiting for me, looking quite serious.
"Tom told me all about your accident. I'm so very sorry that happened to you." she looked like she might cry.
"Thank you. It's not easy to move on, but hopefully it makes me stronger in the end."
"Oh I'm sure it will. Tom says you've got a wicked scar to show for it though." She said, wide eyed.
"I think it makes me look like a bad ass." I whispered, and waggled my eyebrows as I lifted up the front of my shirt to show her.
"Bloody hell, lady. Does it still hurt?" She asked, wide eyed.
"Every once in awhile it zaps me. It's mostly numb though."
"Tom's right, you are a tough cookie. He also said you can hand out a good arse kicking as well."
"Did he now?" I asked, as we walked back to the living room, which was only about ten feet from the bathroom.
"I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of your arse kicking, that's for sure." Tom added, while flipping through a book and depositing it into a box marked "SSVP". His comment made us all laugh, and we started in the boxing up of Tom's apartment, the last part of the "Tom and Max move in" story.

***

"What shall we do with the rest of our visit, my dear?" Tom asked.
"Well, right now I'm exhausted and I want to go to bed. Tomorrow, I'd like to go to The Tree." I requested, as I laid my legs across his lap. We were squished next to each other on his extra large leather armchair. It was the only piece of furniture left besides the mattress, which was on the floor.
"Of course. Ben and Jenne are here, he's filming and she's volunteering at the children's hospital. Maybe we can con them into dinner tomorrow night. Also, we'll be in deep if we don't go to Suffolk to see my Mum."
My stomach jumped a little bit.
His mother?
"Is that alright?"
"Of course. It was just a lot less nerve wracking for me when you met my parents." I peered at him through squinted eyes.
"Um...well...pardon me, but you weren't exactly awake for that." He said, and let a slow, cautious smirk creep across his face. I tried to hold it in, but the laughter burst out of me. Thank god for Tom and the levity he brought to my fretful and worrying mind. He was always just the breath of fresh air I needed...a constant reminder that I needed to lighten up.

The next morning, the last of Tom's things were picked up and loaded into a truck, bound for either the moving company or for donation. We stood together, in the middle of his bare apartment, and I could swear I saw a moment of panic flash across his face. Trust me, it's a feeling I'm quite familiar with.
"Talk to me, Sugar. Are you alright?" He was staring, blankly out the window. He spoke so quietly, I could barely hear him.
"I'm more than alright. This is the happiest I've ever been in my entire life." He turned to face me, and pulled me close to him. "Every day that passes, with you, I feel more and more happy. It's like I'm dreaming."
"I'm thrilled to know that you feel just as fortunate as I do."
"More fortunate than anyone on this planet."

***

Tom nudged me, and I took my headphones off, to find that we'd arrived at the train station in Oxford.
We shouldered our way through the crowded station and Tom only had to stop a handful of times for photos and autographs.

I was thoroughly grateful that he had recommended I pack as light as I possibly could. Trying to maneuver an actual suitcase would have been a nightmare.

The brief car ride from the train station to the Tree brought back a lifetime of childhood memories. I'd ridden the same route countless times in the backseat of my grandparents' car, but that time was different. That time it was about closing the book on my past and starting a chapter in a new story.

The car pulled up to the end of the drive and the urge to cry overwhelmed me. I hadn't realized how much I missed that place. I missed my family that connected me to it. I missed the summers spent working in the hotel for free. The summers of wasting the days away somewhere along the river Thames. The summers of playing piano in the ballroom, letting the music I played bounce off of the hard wood floor and high ceilings. My grandpa had supersonic hearing, I could swear, because every time I played, he would appear and sit down to listen. His favorite was always 'Moonlight Sonata'.

A hot stinging tear rolled down my cheek, before I even got out of the car. It landed on the back of Tom's hand, that was cocooning mine, and he gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Shall we?" He asked quietly.
I simply nodded, and climbed out of the car.

The wave of nostalgia hit me harder than I'd ever anticipated and it was like I was ten years old again, standing at the bottom of the Tree's massive wooden staircase, feeling like an ant. Tom's hand came to rest on the small of my back and broke me from my reverie.
"Come. I have a surprise for you."

Just like old times, I found myself in the winding back hallways that lead to the kitchen of the hotel.
"Martha? Martha!" I squealed and ran across the kitchen to find my Grandmother's trusty (and younger) sidekick.
"My god, Maxine. Look at you." she examined me at arms length.
"This is wonderful! I thought you moved to Sweden!"
She had left, to take a job the head pastry chef at an acclaimed hotel there.
"I did. But the Tree called me back. I love it here."
"Me too. I shouldn't have stayed away so long."
"Well, since you're here." She nodded to the table behind me, that was full of all of the bits and pieces for Grandma's cake. "For old time's?"