He does the same, licking at his top lip.
“This is easily the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he mutters as we continue walking.
“And you’ve been in New York how long?”
“I’ve been in school here for three years.”
“You graduate?”
“No, but I can finish my degree at home, if I have the time.”
“Where is home?”
He pauses, looking down sheepishly, “I’m from Onah-Napor. It’s a small island nation in the South Pacific.”
“I think I’ve heard of it,” I offer.
“You don’t have to say that. I know it’s remote, but…”
“But it’s home,” I finish and he nods. “What do you there?”
“I uh,” he hesitates, wiping his mouth again. “Honestly, mostly I just keep Aiden out of trouble. But my family is in politics. My dad passed a few years back, my mom keeps hoping I’ll come back and pick up where he left off but…”
“But?”
“Let’s just say I’m willing to leave that to Aiden.”
“Gotchya.”
“What about you? New York native?”
“Ha, no. I’m from Kansas, originally. Came here on a school fieldtrip when I was fifteen and fell in love. It was like something was pulling me here, you know?”
“I do know the feeling.”
“There’s something about this city, like it’s always holding it’s breath, waiting for something. Blink of an eye and your whole world can change.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“If you’d asked me that yesterday, I’d have said no. But now…”
“Now?”
I grin, “Maybe things are looking up.”
We finish our pizza and head to the station. It’s nearly empty at this hour, only a few stragglers in the corridors. In the corner one old guy plays his guitar softly. I’ve seen him around before, and more often than not I stop to say hello and sit for a few minutes, I’d do the same tonight if I weren’t on the clock. Seeing me staring, Aiden follows my gaze, then walks over, whispers something to him, and drops some cash in his case.
“That was kind of you. Do you see a lot of that back home?” I ask softly.
“A lot of what?”
“People who are just…lost. I think this city, as beautiful as it is, has a lot of ghosts. And not all of them are dead. Most are just…invisible.”
“We do have some of that back home.”
“It makes me wish I could do something. Help people in some meaningful way.”
“And you can’t?”
“I’m just a waitress, you know?” I say playing with the ring on my middle finger.
The train finally arrives and we get on.
“Maybe it’s enough that you want to help. That you see the problem,” he offers.
“It doesn’t feel that way,” I say, shaking my head. “But enough of that. We’re on the clock, man. So think about it, what do you want to see or do more than anything else? Is there something? A bucket list item we can check off for you?”
“Bucket list?”
“Yeah, you know. A list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket. You don’t have one?”
He frowns, “No, I guess I don’t. Do you?”
“Have a bucket list? Sure. Mine is long too.”
“What’s on it?”
“All kinds of things. Like, ok, don’t make fun.”
He holds up a hand, “I would never.”
“One of the things on my list is to buy someone’s groceries. Just randomly, one day walk into the grocery store and secretly buy groceries for someone.”
“That’s very kind. What else?”
“I want to help deliver a baby.”
“Really?”
I nod, “I mean, it’s the biggest miracle, right? Bringing new life into the world. Can you imagine being the first face some new person sees in the whole world?”
“It does sound amazing when you put it like that.”
I wave my hand, “And there’s generic stuff, you know. I want to travel. See the Sphinx and the pyramids at Giza. I want to walk on the Great Wall of China and fly over Rainbow Falls.”
“All lofty goals.”
“Seriously, what’s one thing you’d put on your bucket list, starting now?”
His dark eyebrows furrow as he considers my question. “I suppose, I want to walk down Times Square.”
“Really?”
He nods. “I like the idea of being lost in the crowd, one face in a million faces. I want to be…invisible.”
“A totally doable request. It’s on the list. Come on, we’re almost there.”
We both stand and the train screeches to a stop, catching me off guard and I fall back into him, but he catches me, steadying me on my feet.
In that millisecond, his hands on my waist, something inside me sparks, an ember trying to catch flame. I look up at him and find him smiling down on me.
“Oh, you’re gonna be trouble,” I mutter. “I can feel it.”
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”
Lady of the River
We escape the stifling heat of the subway and walk a few blocks toward the waterfront. Pulling my cell from my jeans pocket, I shoot off a quick text. The response comes quickly, and I grin at the screen.
“Someone special?” he asks.
“My roommate. She’s gonna meet up with us here.”
“So she’s the mystery woman I’m meeting?”
I grin. “Not exactly.”
We walk toward the pier, the lights from the Brooklyn Bridge glowing in the distance, sparkling in its reflection across the surface of the black water.
“It’s stunning,” Liam says, leaning over the rail.
“Hey, Haven!” a voice calls out from across the wooden dock.
“Liz, hey.” Once she’s close enough, I introduce my companion.
“Liz, this is Liam. He’s visiting from Onah-Napor. Liam, this is my roommate Liz.”
He shakes her hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Liz.”
“Oh, likewise,” she says, her Jersey accent as thick as her wild brown hair and as sharp as her hot pink nails. “Come on, the motor’s running.”
We follow her down past the massive boats slumbering in the dock, and toward a small double decker sightseeing boat complete with strings of bright bulbs across the bow.
“This is our ride,” I tell him, as we walk the skinny plank aboard.
“My boyfriend Neil owns a couple a tour boats,” Liz says proudly.
As if on cue Neil steps out, to greet us. He’s easily ten years her senior, his brown hair thinning at the temples, his cheeks round and flushed, but I have to admit, he treats her like a queen. Hard to wish for more than that.
“Why don’t you two head up above. We’ll be underway in a few minutes,” he says, grabbing Liz playfully.
“Can I drive the boat, honey?” She asks with a giggle.
He sighs, “You don’t drive a boat.” Her smile begins to fall and he immediately shakes his head. “Of course you can, baby.”
She claps once and saunters below decks with him.
“They are a colorful couple,” Liam says, following me up the stairs to the top deck.
“That’s a very diplomatic way to put it. They’re sweethearts though. Between us, I think he’s gonna propose soon. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when she moves out.”
“Find a new roommate?” he offers.
Grabbing one of the posts holding the strings of lights, I twirl around it, facing him. “Maybe. It’s just that…”
I bite my lip.
“What?”
Sighing I lean against the pole. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m treading water. Like, everything about this city that made it feel like home is being peeled away. Does that make any sense?”
“I think so,” he says. “Maybe we outgrow places the same way we can outgrow clothes or even friendships. People change.
Maybe you’re just evolving.”
I let that sit for a minute. “Yeah. Maybe. You’re pretty smart, you know that?”
“Well, I am a college dropout.”
“Me too,” I say. “Aren’t we a pair?”
The boat lurches and we take seats at the front, putting our feet up on the edge.
“So tell me something about you, Liam,” I prod.
“Oh, I’m not very interesting,” he offers humbly, looking down at the deck.
“Well, that’s one thing I know about you now, you’re a terrible liar,” I say with a smirk.
His head snaps up and he opens his mouth to protest, but closes it quickly, grinning instead.
I shrug, “Fine, I’ll guess. You are going home but I get the feeling your heart isn’t quite in it.”
Sitting back, he looks into the distance. “It’s not that, exactly. I just thought I’d have more time.”
“More time to what?”
His gaze shifts to me, “To figure out who I am, to learn to be the man I want to become. That sounds silly when I say it out loud. I guess I just feel… unprepared.”
“I find it hard to believe that. You strike me as someone who is always prepared for anything,” I offer.
“Well it’s good to know I don’t look as nervous as I feel,” he says with a chuckle. “There’s just a lot of pressure. It’s a heavy weight to carry.”
“What are you afraid of? Disappointing your family?”
“And everyone else,” he says with a nod.
“Like Aiden?” I ask. “I bet he relies on you a lot.”
“He does,” Liam says solemnly. “Aiden is…important. People need him to be strong.”
“And so he needs you to be strong? Is that it?”
Liam nods, looking down at the deck for a long moment.
Whatever he’s thinking about is heavy, I feel it hanging in the empty space between us. It’s hard not to reach out, to wrap my arms around him. Which is stupid. I just me this guy, why do I care so much how he’s feeling?
Pain recognizes pain, I guess.
Maybe that’s why I offered to do this. Maybe some part of me hopes that by helping him, I can help myself a little too.
God, I need therapy.
“You know, the trick isn’t to lighten the load. The trick is to make carrying it look easy,” I say softly.
He looks up at me again, his expression unreadable but intense. The air between us thickens and I feel myself being drawn into it like quicksand. For a moment, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me. My skin tingles with anticipation, my breath stilling in my chest. Finally, shaking his head, he leans back.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” he asks finally.
Sighing, I release the tension in my shoulders and settle back. “Nah. Figure A picture’s worth a thousand words.”
“I’m putting a lot of trust in you, you know. For all I know you could be a human trafficker.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. If I were, I wouldn’t have traded a month’s rent for this impromptu boat ride.”
“You did what?”
I wave him off. “It’s no biggie. I actually had a table tonight that tipped very generously.”
He smiles, “Is that so? I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”
“Remains to be seen,” I tease.
Staring into the opposite shore, I watch the lights dancing across the water like so many fireflies.
“I forget how beautiful it is, how calm it can be,” I say. “It’s almost as if you can close your eyes and hear the entire city taking a deep breath.”
“There’s a place like that back home,” Aiden says, draping an arm across my shoulder.
He’s so warm and soft that I can’t help but curl into him.
“I used to go there as a kid, when my parents were fighting—and they fought a lot. There was this split in the rockface near the cliffs, and inside this massive blowhole churned. Even during the lowest tide, it could shoot mist thirty feet into the air. I remember thinking it was like a heartbeat, the pulse of the ocean. I’d run off and spend hours just listening to the swell of the water, letting the salt spray cool my face. It was the only thing that would calm me.”
“Because no one could tell you’d been crying,” I say softly. “I used to sit outside in the rain for the same reason. It was the only time it felt safe to let it out—when no one could see.”
His breath hitches in his chest and I feel it. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Exactly.”
I tap my fingers on my knees “My parents died when I was little. I had all this pain I never really knew how to deal with it. So, I’d hold it all in until it just burst out. But I never let anyone see. They used to tell me how brave I was, how strong. Took me a really long time to realize that being strong isn’t the same as being ok.”
He opens his mouth to speak but before he can the boat begins to turn and along the side of the ship, she finally comes into view.
“There she is,” I say, releasing him to stand at the railing.
He joins me and I glance from her to him, watching his face light up as Lady Liberty comes into view. Illuminated from the lights at her feet, she stands in all her glory, like a beacon in the night. But his face, his expression, is what I can’t stop staring at. It’s a mixture of awe and surprise.
“I didn’t expect it to be so…” he doesn’t finish for a moment, the weight of it sinking in. “Breathtaking,” he decides finally.
I look back to her. The folds of her robe so perfectly carved they could be drifting in the light breeze, her face stern but somehow welcoming.
“Isn’t she just the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen?” I ask.
“Yes, she is,” he whispers. I turn to see him staring not at the statue, but at me, and I fight back the rush of blood flowing to my face.
I look away, unable to hold the weight of his gaze.
“You know the old saying, lightning never strikes the same place twice?” I ask.
“I do.”
“Well, it’s not accurate. This statue is struck over 600 times a year. But the phrase was originally meant as a proverb of sorts. It basically means that an unusual event never occurs twice under the same circumstances or to the same person.”
“Like when F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote, There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.”
I face him again. “Exactly. When I look at her, I remember that you have to hold on to every moment—to every scrap of joy or sorrow, because when it’s gone, you can’t get it back. You may have something similar again, but never exactly the same. She reminds me that every moment is precious.”
“That’s why you brought me here?” he asks.
I nod. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Liam. And I doubt I ever will again. So if all we have is a few hours to spend together, I’m not going to waste a moment of it.”
He smiles down at me, and I know that he understands. Someone else might not, but he gets it, deep down he gets it. The silence stretches out between us, painfully, the aching pulse of blood behind a burn. But soon enough he slips an arm around my waist, drawing me close as we both turn our attention back to the statue in all her wonder.
“I wonder what it would have been like, coming to America on a ship and seeing her for the first time. Of knowing that once you stepped foot on solid ground, anything was possible. A fresh start full of hope and possibilities,” he says. “Of knowing you were so close to everything you ever wanted. That all you had to do was reach out and take it.”
I tilt my face up to gaze at him. “I know what it feels like. I felt it the first time I came here. Back in Kansas everything was just black and white. It was like being in a cage. No options, only one road to walk. When I came here, it felt like for the first time in my life I could just be me—whoever she was and whoever she was going to be. I felt…light. Like after spending my life walking, I could finally stretch my wings and fly. It’s exhilarating, but terrif
ying too. You start to wonder if you can fly at all, or if you’re destined to fall.”
“And did you fly, or did you fall?”
“Both. That’s life, right?”
He chuckles, “You’re amazing, Haven. I saw that back in the restaurant, and again when you offered to show me the city. I’ve never met anyone like you, either.”
I shrug, “I’m nothing special. Just a girl doing the best she can.”
Turning me gently in his arms, he locks his hands around my waist, looking down at me, “You are everything special. Any fool could see that.”
Liam holds me like that for some time, until boat glides through the water and docks back to shore. We bid our captain and Liz goodbye and wander down the pier.
“Ok, where to now?” he asks, looking around.
I glance at my watch. It’ll be sunrise soon, and I know just the spot to hit next.
“Follow me,” I say.
****
We pass through the glass entrance and ride the elevator to the top before stepping out onto the stone rooftop, a massive infinity pool going all the way to the ledge of the building. A light steam hovers of the pool, the smell of saltwater heavy in the fog.
“Why do I have the feeling we aren’t supposed to be here?” he asks, looking around.
“Ok, technically we aren’t, the pool’s for tenants of the building only. But I happen to know that they are updating the electrical downstairs so the place is empty for a full week.”
“Should I even ask how you came by this information?”
I purse my lips and squint, “Probably not. Plausible deniability and all that.”
He shakes his head, smiling as I kick off my converse and scoot them aside with my foot as I grab the hem of my loose white dress.
Looking up I see Liam watching me with hungry eyes.
I motion for him to spin, “Well, turn around.”
He grins but does as he’s told. Once he’s not looking, I pull the dress free and slide into the water in my bra and panties.
“Ok,” I say, splashing him lightly.
He turns back to me, a wide smile playing at his lips. “Aren’t you afraid we’ll get caught?”
“Are you?” I challenge.
He glances around, clearly looking for people or cameras.
Once Upon A New York Minute: Part 1 Page 2
