Once the train had whisked them all the way to 14th Street Scarlett began to wonder where they were going. ‘It’s not much farther,’ he told her. ‘Follow me.’
He led her into the Chelsea Market, the building that housed eateries and small businesses. The smell was wonderful, the atmosphere electric. Behind glass partitions pizza slices were lined up ready for selection, a bakery sold loaves in all shapes and sizes, they were tempted by gelato despite the season, brownies, cupcakes, in this modified building that retained its industrial structure. An Italian eatery offered a range of pasta, different sauces, an abundant choice of cheeses. The markets had pictures on the walls, a signpost for businesses in dark wood with touches of colour, a delicatessen selling things they’d never even heard of and a waterfall unique in its tranquillity. And then they saw it, the sign for the Lobster Place, Seafood Market.
Scarlett was forever pestering him at home to cook more seafood. She was a much bigger lover of the cuisine than he was, but as they stood at the tables at the back taking apart their lobster and dipping pieces into garlic butter, Nathan was sold. It was hands down the best he’d ever tasted.
When Scarlett checked her watch for the fourth time – he’d been counting because despite their chatter she was visibly distracted – he asked, ‘Somewhere you need to be?’
‘I said I might stop by the Garland Street markets and see Kyle,’ she admitted, eyes not leaving his, most likely waiting for a reaction.
‘Fine, let’s go.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Yep, wouldn’t mind going there myself.’
‘Dad, no way. Not if you’re going to start on him again. Just forget it.’ She got back to devouring the remaining pieces of lobster.
‘I’m not going to start on him. There’s something I want to do, that’s all.’
He checked his maps on his phone to make sure they knew which direction to go but when they set off she didn’t delve into his reasons for wanting to go there. He knew he’d made a fool of himself at the party that night and he was embarrassed, particularly because it had happened in front of Amelia, who he’d been enjoying getting to know. Darcy’s comments about a connection between them had been something he dismissed but deep down wondered if she’d read the situation just right. Because the fact was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
They reached the knitting stall first and it didn’t take long to spot Amelia pushing a knitted item into a bag to hand to a customer. Her dark hair poked out from beneath a burgundy hat and he could see puffs of white air coming from her mouth as she spoke from inside the Swiss-style hut. He didn’t know how these traders managed to stay out in the elements for hours on end, although surely it was good business for nearby cafés and coffee carts.
‘I don’t need an audience,’ he whispered to Scarlett before Amelia saw them. ‘You wander and I’ll meet you at the far end by the Christmas tree stall in twenty minutes.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Never you mind.’
Amelia spotted him as soon as Scarlett left him to it and she waited until her customer bustled off happy with their purchases. ‘I hope you haven’t come to yell at me again.’
‘I’ve come to apologise actually.’
She couldn’t have looked more surprised. ‘So you admit you overreacted and made a bit of a fool of yourself.’
‘Steady on, I’ll apologise, but I’m not going to grovel.’
A rebuke was on the tip of her tongue, he could tell, but she pressed her lips together firmly for a few seconds and then told him, ‘Fair enough. Apology accepted. But it’s not really me who needs to hear it. He’s at the Christmas tree stall.’
‘That’s my next stop. Scarlett’s already headed down that way so she’s probably warning him.’ He picked up some ruby-red gloves with sparkly silver thread running through them. ‘While I’m here, can I take these? For Scarlett’s stocking,’ he explained.
Amelia softened a little, her green eyes less on the alert for trouble. ‘I miss those days as a kid. The excitement, the anticipation. What else are you putting in there for her?’
‘So far I’ve got chocolate, earrings, a keyring of a yellow New York taxi and a miniature manicure set.’
‘I’m impressed.’
‘You should be.’
She looked away when another customer cleared his throat as he waited to pay for a sweater. ‘I’d better get on, see you later.’
He hoped he would. He could’ve stayed chatting to her for much longer.
When he finally reached the cluster of Christmas trees surrounding the hut and spilling out onto most of the sidewalk, he hung back again. Kyle and Scarlett were talking, laughing about something, and she looked happy, relaxed in his company. Scarlett leaned in to smell the tree Kyle was about to put into the netting machine and it tugged at Nathan’s heartstrings as he remembered how Scarlett had always done the same thing as a kid. She’d toddle up to the tree, right close so her hair got caught on the spiky pine needles, she’d close her eyes and inhale the scent of Christmas. And then she’d turn and smile, the biggest grin across her face. When she was really little it had been a moment that solidified how glad he was she’d come along, despite being unplanned, regardless of whether he and Dawn were ready. And when her mum died it had been the little moments like that that had kept him going.
From here, Kyle didn’t look like a bad kid as he sipped on the hot drink Scarlett must have taken him. Perspective…that was what his current train of thought called for. It was a shame he hadn’t had any that night at the inn.
The second Scarlett saw him she came over and hooked her arm through his. ‘Ready.’
