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From that point forward, La Costa and Henry never spent more than three days in a row separated from one another. Business trips to the East Coast meant lingering airport goodbyes and long, late-night phone calls, when, at the end of the day, one would call the other on their cell phone and talk or text as long as the batteries would last. La Costa would often drive to La Jolla to Henry’s bistro to find him picking up a shift in the kitchen or unloading crates of wine through the service entrance. She just wanted to be close to him. Some days, she would sit, sipping a cappuccino, at a corner table with a fickle Wi-Fi connection, tapping away at her laptop, working on her daily word count or writing her blog as Henry worked managing the restaurant. Occasionally, the two would meet for dinner in the city, steal away an evening or two at the LA condo, or plan an impromptu fun escape weekend at the beach house.
It was two months in before La Costa introduced Louis to Henry, and it was not without much trepidation. La Costa thought it would be less intimidating for Louis to meet Henry on his own playing field—or, court as it were. She had arranged for Henry to join her for one of Louis’s Friday night games at the high school, and then for the three of them to enjoy a casual meal at Louis’s favorite pizza joint. Much to La Costa’s delight and relief, Louis was on board.
“Mom, it’s not like I haven’t known about this Henry dude for all this time. I have eyes and ears, you know,” Louis said, kicking off his high-tops and sliding across the shiny marble floor over to the fridge. “Do we have any Fresca?”
“Well, I just wanted to prepare you, that’s all. Henry Paige is a great guy, and I’ve actually known him for many years now. It’s just recently that we started getting to know one another better,” Las Costa said.
“Uh-huh.” Louis was half-listening, riffling through the freezer for the Hot Pockets.
“So, is Friday good, after your game?”
“Yeah, that’s okay with me, Mom. Really, it’s not a big deal. Chill.” He kissed her on the cheek, and then reached for his earbuds. “Oh, can you nuke these for me, please?”
It was as simple as that. They all had a date.
As expected, Louis and Henry hit it off, and La Costa could not have been happier. Louis had played one of his best games ever. As a power forward at nearly six foot two, Louis had inside game, for sure. He could shoot, get to the hoop, and rebound like the pros. He was all-star varsity and it showed, making thirty out of fifty shots, sinking every free throw, and breaking the tie score with the win at the buzzer.
“Dude, that was some game!” Henry said, leaning in for a handshake, and then slapping Louis firmly on the back. “I’m your mother’s friend, Henry Paige. So nice to meet you. Call me Henry, all right, Champ?”
Louis, fresh out of the shower and wearing his finest street clothes—athletic pants, a Clippers T-shirt, and Jordans—grinned and hoisted his gym bag over his shoulder. “It was a good game for you guys to see. Nice to meet you too.”
“Are you kidding me? You were amazing!” La Costa proceeded to cover Louis unabashedly with kisses all over his cheeks and forehead—red lipstick marks, be damned! She was a proud mama!
“Aw, okay. Now I have to go back in and wash my face.” Louis dropped the gym bag and turned back in the direction of the locker room. “Love you too, Mom!”
“Be quick, baby! We’ll meet you at the car.”
La Costa smiled. “He’s my superstar, you know.”
“I do think I know that, yes,” Henry said, grabbing Louis’s gym bag. “La Costa, he’s a winner, I can tell. Just like you.” Then he took her hand and kissed it sweetly. “Let’s go.”
Life, it seemed, had begun for La Costa the moment Henry walked back into her life. Not three months into the courtship, he professed his feelings and promised to love her and to take care of her forever. When the prospect of making a lifetime of it, however, they had both shared a mutual belief that getting married was not the goal. Such institutions were for “other people.” It was not necessary for them, they believed, to compartmentalize their love with contracts and clauses of betrothal. This made the relationship flourish and enabled La Costa to relax into it, knowing that her life was still her own. That she and Louis were still a team of two. She and Henry had a commitment bonded in trust and free will, something far more sacred to them than any ceremony or contract could offer.
She was, to him, the promise of a lifetime dream fulfilled. And he was to her, the dream she had long given up on believing in. Every day forward, she had to pinch herself to see if she was living her real life, or a dream.