Something Blue - Emily Giffin [71]
"It's the dampness in the air," he said. "Permeates every layer of clothing."
"Yeah," I said, shivering. "It's downright bone-chilling. Glad I wore my boots."
Ethan made an acknowledging sound as we walked at a faster clip to keep warm. Moments later we were at the entrance of Holland Park, both of us slightly out of breath.
"Of all the parks in London, this is my favorite," Ethan said, beaming. "It has such an intimate, romantic aura."
"Are you trying to tell me something, Ethan?" I joked, as I linked my arm around his.
He smiled, rolled his eyes, and shook me off. "Yeah. I'm about to propose. How'd you know?"
"I hope you have an emerald-cut diamond in your pocket. I'm so over brilliant cuts," I told him as we walked along a wooded path that curved around a big, open field.
"Brilliant cuts are the round ones?" he asked. Yeah.
"Damn. I bought you a fat, round diamond. Guess we'll have to stay friends then."
I giggled. "Guess so."
"So anyway, this," he said pointing to the field, "is called the Cricket Lawn."
"People play cricket here?"
"Historically, yes. And I've seen the occasional cricket game here, but more often it's football—soccer. And in the summer, it's a giant lounging ground. People spread out everywhere on blankets. It only takes about sixty degrees before the Brits will be out here sunning… My spot is right there," he said, pointing to a shady area on the outskirts of the field. "I've had many delicious naps under that tree."
I pictured Ethan with his various notebooks, trying to write, but succumbing to sleep. I thought how nice it would be to come here with him in the summer with my baby and a picnic lunch. As we circled the top of the field next to an outdoor theater, I thought about how contented I was to be hanging with Ethan. Then I thought of Rachel, and wished that she could see a snapshot of us together, strolling around a London park on Thanksgiving morning. I wondered what she and Dex were doing, whether they had gone back to Indianapolis for the holiday. Perhaps they were in Rachel's kitchen now, sitting by her bay window with a cup of coffee and a view of my house.
I told myself not to corrupt my good mood and turned my attention back to Ethan, who was spouting off all kinds of facts, as he often does. He told me that the park comprised the former grounds of Holland House, which used to be a social and political hot spot in the city. He explained that it was bombed and damaged during World War II. He said that it currently provided shelter for several peacocks that we were bound to see.
"Oh, I love peacocks."
He looked at me sideways and snickered. "You sort of remind me of one."
I told him that I'd take that as a compliment.
"I figured you would," he said, and then pointed out a restaurant called the Belvedere. He told me they had the most elegant brunch, and that if I were good, he might take me there.
Beyond the restaurant was a beautiful, formal garden, which Ethan told me was planted in 1790 by Lady Holland with the first English dahlias. I asked him how he could remember so many names and dates and facts, and if his mind didn't ever feel cluttered with useless information.
He told me that history wasn't clutter. "Clutter is knowing all of the things that you absorb through your fashion magazines. Clutter is knowing which celebrities broke up with whom and why."
I started to explain that today's celebrities would be tomorrow's historical figures, but Ethan interrupted me. "Check it out. A peacock!"
Sure enough, a gorgeous bird in brilliant blues and greens was strutting around a fenced-in grassy area, his feathers splayed just like the NBC mascot. "Wow. So pretty," I said. "I wouldn't mind having a coat in those colors."