Love is a Rebellious Bird: A Novel by Elayne Klasson

Author:Elayne Klasson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2019-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

We went down into the subway and got off at East Fifty-Eighth, then walked in the dusk to the address Elliot had given me. There was a long line of people waiting outside Serendipity, and I knew that Miriam and Evan were cold and tired and hungry. I hoped I hadn’t pushed the twins beyond their limit. Then I noticed you, waiting in front of the restaurant, stamping your feet against the frigid weather. You were wearing a handsome black leather jacket with a long scarf wrapped around your neck.

“Over here,” you shouted when you spied us. I grabbed a child’s gloved hand with each of my own and ran toward you. You bent and enveloped both the twins in a huge bear hug. “You found it! Good job, guys. Wait, let me get a picture.” You took your camera from your pocket and snapped a shot of the kids and me in front of the Serendipity sign. “Okay, let’s go inside. You must be freezing.” Then you hugged me as well, squeezing me against the buttery smooth leather of your jacket. “Lillian’s already there, holding a table.” We moved ahead of all the people in line, and as you held the door open for us, I looked back and gave those people an apologetic smile.

It was dark inside, the antique tables were oak and the chairs curly, bent wood. The only light came from the old-fashioned Tiffany glass lamps, which sent rainbows of color onto the tables and walls. You led us through the crowded restaurant to a back room.

“Lillian,” you called out, “they’re here.”

I saw a woman sitting alone at a big table. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Several inches of thin gold bangles encircled both arms and large gold hoops were in her ears. She wore a leopard print jacket, obviously but boldly fake. When she stood, I saw that the plush jacket ended mid-thigh and that she appeared to have nothing on under it other than sparkly black tights and boots that ended a bit above her knee. On me, the outfit would have seemed a trashy ensemble fit only for Halloween. Yet, with her long, thick hair cascading down her shoulders, and her tiny frame, Lilly looked fabulously put together, someone who turned heads.

Before we left on our trip to New York, I had explained to the children that Elliot’s wife, Meredith, who was still his girlfriend when they’d met her on the visit to the redwoods, had died. They’d known Meredith was sick and I think I gave them a rudimentary explanation of cancer. Then, on the subway that afternoon, I had told them that we’d be meeting Elliot’s new friend Lillian. They hadn’t asked many questions, so I’d left it at that.

As soon as we sat down, Evan looked between you and Lillian and then asked, “Where’s Matthew?”

You picked up a glass of water.

“The boy whose mother died?” Evan persisted. “How come your little boy didn’t come today?”

There was silence. How

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