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He shakes, terrified, especially when Lily interrupts him, roaring her words into his face, “Stop lying!”
She stops to wipe the first tears off her face. “Why did you do this, Ben? I thought we were friends…”
Now Ben is crying too, sobbing really, his chest going up and down under his parka coat. “Wearefriends, Lily. I love you.”
“There are limits to love, son,” I say.
I place a hand over Lily’s shoulder and motion her in the direction of the door. Atkinson goes with us and keeps us company until we’re at the exit of the station.
“Call us and say my name in case you need anything,” she says. “I’m here to help.”
We wave goodbye and head for the car to get ready for the next stop of the tour.
Later that night, already at the DAR Constitution Hall in Washington, Lily’s show is coming to an end and the packed house celebrates with cheer.
Lily and Sweets talk backstage, one ready to leave, another ready to go out.
“You two are becoming good friends, aren’t you?” I say, interlacing my arm with Lily’s.
“Lily is awesome,” Sweets says. “We still have to play a song together!”
She pinches Lily’s cheek, maternal despite the fact that she’s only a few years older than her. Lily, in her turn, blushes and smiles, looking up to Sweets as a child to her hero.
“Any parties later?” I ask Sweets, and she seems happy to reply.
“None that I know of yet!” she says.
“Alright,” I say, letting go of Lily and reaching for my pocket, “since there are no parties, Sweets, will you excuse us if we leave without seeing your show?”
I raise the key for the presidential suit of our hotel in front of Lily, and she looks at it, wide eyed and unsure of what it means.
“Let’s go?” I continue, my voice in a lower tone than usual.
She follows me. The hotel is in walking distance from the concert hall. She is stopped a few times for pictures and autographs, but the route there is tranquil otherwise.
When we are in front of the closed door of our room, I stop her.
“Close your eyes and promise not to open them until I say so,” I say, a hand splayed out towards her.
“Huh, okay!” Lily says, getting excited.
She closes her eyes as she said she would. In the silence of the 18th floor, the click of the key in the lock is as loud as gunfire. I take her by the hand and walk her inside, entering the luxurious interior of the suite.
“You can open your eyes now,” I let go of her hand.
She does, slowly, and I can sense the wonder in her grow little by little. She spins around, taking in her surroundings, and then takes a few steps forward. Her arms are wide open within the broad and spacious room.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room this big!” she says with laughter. “This is bigger than my entire apartment!”
Hands in my pockets, I smile and approach her. “Wait till I get the chance to show youmyhouse,” I say, trying to sound humble, but failing.
“Oh, God, it’s enormous, isn’t it?” she says with both hands over her mouth. I just nod, amused at her reaction.
I come even closer, holding her by the waist and pressing my hips against hers. “Did you see the size of the bed?”
I point to it, in the second section of the room. It’s a king-sized bed with a beautiful vintage canopy, and she runs over to it, pretty much diving onto the mattress.
I see her glide around the soft surface and roll around, undoing the duvet as she waits for me to go join her.
