Field Notes on Love(41)

    “Last thing,” Nana says, shifting her gaze to Hugo. “She’s one of the best people I know. And she’s a real catch. So be good to her, okay?”

Mae closes her eyes for a second, mortified. “Thanks, Nana,” she says as she brings the phone up to her face again. “I love you, and I’ll call you when we get to Denver.”

Nana gives a little wave. “Happy travels!”

After hanging up, Mae turns to Hugo. “Well, that’s Nana. She’s—”

“Brilliant,” he says with a grin. “Let’s make sure I’m there when you call her from Denver, so I can hear the rest of her tips.”

This train is bigger than the last, with two floors and an observation car at one end. An attendant named Duncan—a short white man with bright red hair—leads them to their compartment, which is about the same as the last, two seats and a fold-down bunk at the top.

But this time, when he leaves them, there’s no awkward silence or uncertainty. This time, as soon as he’s gone, Hugo takes a step forward and puts a hand on her elbow, and Mae tips her head up to look at him, and they smile at each other like they’re the holders of some great secret.

“You still have sand in your hair,” she says, reaching up to brush it away, but before she can finish, he’s folded her into his arms, and they’re kissing again.

Mae has wanted to do this all morning. Sitting across from him at the diner, walking beside him along Michigan Avenue, lying next to him on the beach: it was underneath and around every other thought, a persistent drumbeat beneath every gesture, every word, every look.

She knows this can’t last—whatever it is; that a few days from now, they’ll be getting off at different stations, going in different directions. But she doesn’t care. Because for now, they have this: a happiness so big it doesn’t leave room for worries.

    When Duncan returns, he has to clear his throat several times before they realize he’s standing in the hallway. They break apart so quickly that Hugo nearly falls back against his seat, and Duncan stares hard at his notepad, trying not to laugh.

“Sorry to interrupt, but will you two be joining us for dinner tonight?”

After they’ve made their reservations, Mae’s phone buzzes, and she grabs it before Hugo can see the long row of exclamation points that Priyanka has sent, followed by a second text that says Call me.

“I’m gonna make a quick call,” she says to Hugo. “So I’ll just—”

“No, you stay here,” he says. “Meet me in the observation car when you’re done.”

On the way out, he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek, and then she waits until she hears his footsteps on the metal staircase to call. All Mae says when she picks up is hi, but this is enough to make Priyanka immediately start laughing.

“What?” Mae asks, grinning into the phone.

“Nothing. It’s just that I can practically hear you smiling. It’s so unlike you.”

“Hey! I smile.”

“Yeah, but hardly ever about a boy.”

Mae flops back onto the seat and puts her feet up on Hugo’s. “So how’s college life?”

“No way. We’re talking about you first. Tell me everything.”

And so she does. By the time she gets to the part where they kissed last night, Priyanka is laughing again. “Only you would use your grandmother’s line to get a guy to kiss you,” she says. “Bet you don’t think those movies of hers are so unrealistic anymore, huh?”

    “This isn’t like that,” Mae says. “It’s just a fling.”

“It is not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because a fling suggests it doesn’t mean anything,” Priyanka says. “And I can tell that it does.”

“No, a fling is a measurement of time. And this has an expiration date.”

Priyanka sighs. “Stop being so…you.”

“What does that mean?” Mae asks, indignant.

“Just that it’s okay to give in and enjoy it. You’re on a train making out with a guy you barely know. It’s romantic.”

Mae laughs. “A week ago, you thought he was going to kill me.”

“Well, he didn’t. And you sound really happy. So don’t overthink it. Just—”

The line goes dead, and when Mae lowers her phone, she sees that there’s no service anymore. She waits a few minutes, and when it doesn’t return, she sends a quick text: Sorry I lost you. But I’m off to go enjoy it. Aren’t you happy I’m taking your advice?

It bounces back, but there’s nothing to be done about that now, so she winds her way through the other sleeper cars, past the dining room, where the tablecloths are already out, and into the observation area. Hugo is in one of the seats facing out toward the huge rounded windows that reach all the way up to the ceiling, and when Mae sits down beside him, he turns to her with a smile.

“How’s your friend?”

“Good. We got cut off.”

“Hopefully not before you had a chance to tell her all about me,” he says with a grin, and she punches his arm.

    “Someone’s pretty full of himself.”