Page 33 of Chasing the Horizon

Within the hour, they found themselves in a fun little bar in Greenwich, where they got nonalcoholic cocktails and played songs on the jukebox. There, Alex told her everything that had happened to him during his pitching meetings, parroting what they’d said to him.

Valerie knew they’d seen Alex the way she saw him. They saw him for the brilliant artist he was. Finally, he was getting what he deserved.

“And how did it go with Catherine?” Alex asked.

Valerie took a breath. “I wish I could say it was simple. But there’s something off about her. I don’t know what’s happening. And to be honest, it terrifies me. Maybe it’s pregnancy hormones? Perhaps I’ll act like that in a few months?”

Alex touched her shoulder. “You can act as weird as you want to. I’ll be there through all the ups and downs.”

Valerie kissed Alex on the lips. Their final jukebox pick played—“Somebody to Love” by Queen—and they burst into laughter, then kissed some more.

After that, they floated through Greenwich Village like the happiest people in the city and eventually ended up at a high-end Chinese restaurant where Alex had gotten reservations. For the next two hours, they ate to their hearts’ content, celebrating Alex’s wins and Valerie’s tomorrow. When they finished, they got a call from Rebecca, and she said, “Get back to the hotel! We all made it in one piece!”

“All the Suttons in Manhattan,” Valerie said, whistling as they left the restaurant. “What kind of madness will we get up to?”

Alex laughed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll keep them at bay till after the shower.”

When they returned to the hotel, they found all of them in the hotel bar, celebrating and drinking alcoholic and nonalcoholic beverages and singing songs and causing chaos. Victor looked as happy as a clam, sharing his love for various bands with Shelby and Chad, and playing a card game with Bethany’s daughter Phoebe. Valerie swung by to say good night but didn’t stay for long.

“Good luck tomorrow, darling,” Esme said, squeezing her tight.

“I hope I don’t need too much luck,” Valerie joked. “I’ve been planning this for months.”

Valerie told Alex he could hang out for longer if he wanted, but he admitted he was beat.

They said good night, waving from the elevator as the doors clipped closed.

Back in the hotel room, Alex and Valerie cozied up and watched twenty minutes of a film before Valerie fell into the most decadent and dreamless sleep of her life.

She would need the rest. Tomorrow would be a doozy.

Chapter Thirteen

But everything Saturday morning started out right as rain. Valerie woke up at seven and went downstairs to have a cup of decaf and the hotel breakfast of eggs and toast and potatoes and fruit. She left Alex in bed because he liked to sleep in, and she knew he hadn’t been resting well due to the film pitches.Soon, neither of us will be able to sleep well, she thought.

In the breakfast hall sat Victor and Esme, nestled close together, drinking coffee and eating scones. Valerie’s heart leaped at the sight of her mother and father. Esme was doing a crossword puzzle, and Victor wrote notes in his notepad. Valerie surprised them when she approached, but it was a good surprise, and they begged her to sit with them, throwing their activities to the side.

“Today’s the big day!” Esme cried.

“Until tomorrow,” Victor reminded her. “I was just writing out my talking points here.” He spun the notepad around to show the issues he wanted to touch on during the interview, which included the act of storytelling with a family member, finding renewed strength in the father-daughter relationship, and organizing our memories in a way that aligns them.

It brought tears to Valerie’s eyes. She hoped what he wrote wasn’t the idealized version. She hoped it was the truth.

Soon, the rest of the Suttons brought their chaos to the dining hall, and Valerie excused herself upstairs to shower and get dressed for the party. Alex was awake, drinking coffee from the little in-room machine and reading news on his phone. She told him that all the Suttons were downstairs, and he grimaced and laughed. “I’m not ready for them yet!”

Valerie fell into his arms and kissed him.

For the shower, Valerie wore a navy blue dress with a turtleneck and a pair of boots. Her lipstick was a cinnamon color, but other than that, she opted for very little makeup, choosing to slide into the background.

That morning, Alex drove her to the bakery to pick up the beautiful baby shower cakes—three with raspberries and cream and decadent chocolates, gorgeous and a far cry from many Manhattan women’s diets. Valerie couldn’t wait to get her hands on a slice. Maybe after the party was over. Alex said, “I have never wanted dessert more than I do right now.”

Alex helped Valerie carry the cakes into the completely decorated and beautiful living room of Catherine’s brownstone apartment. “WELCOME, BABY” hung in ornate letters over the top of the fireplace, and everything else was delicate and stylish and not overdone. To Valerie, upon entering, she thought her work was similar to something she’d seen in a high-end magazine, a feature for a celebrity’s baby shower.

Catherine was pleased. She looked youthful and bright-eyed, dressed in a gorgeous cream-colored maternity dress with her hair styled in blond ringlets. She hugged Alex hello as though they were old friends, then threw her arms around Valerie. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” she said.

Valerie thought for the first time that something was really, really wrong with Catherine—that maybe she needed psychiatric help. But now wasn’t the time to bring that up.

“You look beautiful, Catherine,” Valerie said.

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