I'll Take New York

by Miranda Dickinson

  ‘Does it? Is that how you feel about your reaction to the wedding plans?’

  ‘Cut the crap, Jacob! I know how this works: I’ve been asking the questions for long enough. Yes, OK? I can’t rationalise it and on paper it looks like a bid for attention, but I feel like a visitor in my own home. Your mom spends all her time going over details with Rosie; Edward has organised marquees and catering and music; even you organised their engagement party. What’s my job in all this? Where do I get my chance to contribute? Handing over my home is not the level of participation I expected in this wedding. I suggested they hold it here because I wanted to be part of the day. But every idea I’ve had has been shot down in flames or laughed out of the room. Like I’m nothing more than a caretaker handing over the keys.’ He shook his head. ‘And listening to myself I hear a spoiled brat throwing his toys out of the buggy because he isn’t the centre of attention at somebody else’s birthday party.’

  Jake walked over to his father and laid his arm gently around the older man’s shoulders. ‘And that reminds you of how you had no say in Ed’s career choice, doesn’t it? Don’t give me that look, Dad: I know where this is coming from. You felt you should have contributed more to his professional career, and you’re still smarting that he didn’t follow you into psychiatry. Aren’t you?’

  Joe Steinmann’s expression was defiant but his eyes had reddened. ‘It all happened such a long time ago …’

  ‘Doesn’t make it any less painful.’

  ‘No. I guess not.’

  Jake sighed. This was very tricky ground for him to cover: the feud between Ed and his father had become ingrained in Steinmann family behaviour. Addressing it would take more time than a day on Long Island could offer.

  ‘But if you think Ed has rejected your role as his father, you’re wrong. Ed adores you: he always has. If he didn’t care so much for what you thought of him, do you think he’d have stuck around for as long as he has? He’s been willing to attend every family occasion for twenty years, even though he knew that every time the subject of his chosen career would rear its ugly head. He has endured countless jibes about his sexuality because he chose to work with flowers; and, sure, he may have fought back, but he has never, ever deserted the family because of it. Plenty of others would. And now he wants to share the happiest day of his life with you – in your house. Do you think he would have even considered that if he didn’t want you to be there?’

  Joe said nothing, the clouds of his breath coming quickly against the window glass.

  Sensing his words had hit home, Jake took a step back. ‘I’ll go make us more coffee, shall I?’

  Joe nodded, swallowing hard as his youngest son turned away.

  Rosie’s face was a picture when Jake visited her and Ed’s apartment to share the good news.

  ‘I don’t know how you did that, but thank you! I was beginning to think we’d have to postpone the wedding.’ She hugged Jake tightly. ‘You’re fab! I’m so happy you’re going to be my brother-in-law!’

  ‘The feeling’s mutual,’ Jake smiled, kissing the top of Rosie’s head as she hugged him. ‘What matters now is that you two get back to having fun planning your wedding …’ He broke off as a vivid memory of he and Jessica kissing on the floor of his apartment surrounded by lists and seating plans returned. Their perfect wedding at her parent’s house overlooking the beach at Half Moon Bay was made all the more fun by how happy everyone had been, encouraged by all the personal touches he and Jess had built into the ceremony: tiny candle lanterns strung through the tall maple trees that surrounded the garden; a ‘wish-tree’ where guests could hang their blessings on the new marriage; Tom & Jerry cartoons playing all evening in one of the four sitting rooms; boxes of blankets around the garden for the evening festivities; and hot chocolate with marshmallows served at midnight. Every aspect had been planned to elicit the biggest smiles. Consequently, the wedding day was a truly happy, laughter-filled, intimate event still talked about years later by those lucky enough to be there.

  The memory of it was a stark reminder of how much he still loved her – in spite of everything.

  Jake flinched as a shard of pain jabbed his heart. Had their wedding day been too perfect, he wondered? One thing was certain: he wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

  Rosie broke the hug and grinned up at him. ‘Listen, Ed and I talked about this and we would really love to invite Bea to our wedding …’ Before Jake could protest, she continued. ‘And I know it’s early days for you two – as friends, obviously – but you’ve done so much for us and I wouldn’t want you to feel alone on our wedding day.’

  ‘Rosie, I—’

  ‘Hear me out, OK? Bea’s a sweetheart. You get on with her so well and it’s clear from your mood lately that her friendship is something you’re really enjoying. All I’m suggesting is that the two of you might enjoy the wedding more if you can have a kindred spirit there. Promise me you’ll consider it?’

  Damn Rosie Duncan! It was impossible for Jake to deny her anything when she looked up at him with her big, brown, British eyes. She knew it, too, a smile already playing on her lips as she waited for his answer.

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Excellent. I’ll leave you to mention it to her. If it feels wrong or the moment doesn’t arise, don’t ask her. But if it does …’

  ‘Sure. I get the idea.’

  He hated his soon-to-be sister-in-law for knowing him so well. Even as he feigned practised disinterest in Rosie’s idea, his heart was inexplicably light.

  Maybe I will ask her to the wedding. It could be fun …

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Cheese-A-Go-Go!, SoHo

  ‘Wow. I thought I’d seen the biggest mountain of cheese in New York at Zabar’s, but this is something else.’

  Bea giggled as she watched Jake take in the high stacks of every conceivable type of cheese rising around their table in the SoHo ‘cheese-and-coffee’ shop she had brought him to. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so impressed by cheese before.’

  ‘Are you kidding? This is heaven for me! How come I’ve never heard of this place before?’

  Bea took a bite of warm cheese scone. ‘It’s only been open a few years. They started off with a grilled cheese sandwich truck in Brooklyn, which Russ and Imelda made a pilgrimage to every week, and then when they found these premises we followed them here. Pretty impressive, isn’t it? Although I imagine not so much if you hate cheese.’

  ‘Or are lactose-intolerant,’ Jake added.

  ‘Oh, they have lactose-free cheese here, too,’ Bea corrected him.

  ‘I should’ve guessed. This is New York, after all. Hey, do you have The Pact list?’

  ‘I do.’ Smiling, Bea retrieved it from her bag. The list of reasons to be single had been steadily growing since their first trip out in New York and now stood at nearly thirty items.

  ‘I just thought of another reason: “The ability to choose and eat cheese at any time of the day or night”. My ex hated me eating cheese after eight p.m. Seriously, I had to wait until the Steinmann family Christmas celebrations until I could indulge in late night cheese feasts.’

  Bea wrote it down at number thirty. ‘Otis was lactose-intolerant.’

  ‘At least he’d be at home here,’ Jake observed. ‘This is such a great place, Bea. Your best yet, I reckon.’

  Bea was surprised that every time it was her turn to nominate a venue, Jake seemed to be genuinely impressed by her choice. For instance, today she’d had a sudden crisis of conscience in the cab on the way to SoHo when she realised she had never asked Jake if he liked cheese. Cheesecake, yes, but the subject of his dairy likes and dislikes hadn’t yet arisen in conversation. What would happen if he hated it? Cheese-A-Go-Go! was definitely an acquired taste, not least because of the strong cheese aroma that bombarded you as you drank your coffee.

  Thankfully, Jake had been unmasked as a true cheese devotee, and Bea was finally able to relax knowing her choice had be
en a good one.

  ‘Do you realise we’ve become regular explorers of this great city?’ Jake asked suddenly.

  ‘I suppose we have,’ Bea replied, surprised by how quickly she’d become accustomed to their New York trips. ‘And you’re still having fun?’

  ‘Of course I am.’ His brow furrowed a little. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  Bea had been considering talking to Jake about something for the last week and now she sensed her opportunity to broach it.

  At the beginning of the week, one of Hudson River Books’ regular customers had arrived with an unusual request on her young daughter’s behalf. She had been so apologetic for her visit that Bea had made her a coffee and sat her down on the kids’ section beanbag sofas to make her feel more comfortable.

  ‘I’m really so sorry to have to ask, but Bronagh insisted,’ she said, clutching her coffee mug so tightly Bea was concerned it might shatter in her hands.

  ‘Rita, it’s fine. You know Russ and I are Bronagh’s biggest fans. We’ve never met a ten-year-old with such a passion for books before.’

  ‘She’s always loved your bookstore, ever since you opened on 8th,’ Lulu Chambers smiled. ‘She thinks it’s magical.’

  ‘Then she’s a girl after my own heart,’ Bea replied. ‘So what did she want you to ask me?’

  Lulu took a breath and turned to face her. ‘Bronagh will be eleven next Tuesday and I asked her what she wanted to do for it. Since Clive works away so much these days I offered her the chance to have a party. We haven’t held one for a few years and I thought it would be something she would like to do. The thing is, we’ve talked about lots of venues but there’s only one place she wants to celebrate her birthday.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Here.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Nobody had ever asked to hold a birthday party at the bookstore before, but Bea loved that her young customer thought so much of Hudson River Books. Her mind began to spin with ideas and practical considerations: could they clear the centre of the store to accommodate tables and chairs? Who would cater for the party and what kind of food would an eleven-year-old girl and her friends want to eat, anyway? Could she pull everything together in a week?

  Lulu interpreted her silence as a bad sign and instantly began to backtrack. ‘Of course, it’s too short notice and I really didn’t think it would be possible. Please don’t feel obliged, Bea.’

  ‘No, I think we could do this. Would you want the party on Bronagh’s actual birthday or the weekend after?’

  ‘On the day, preferably. Clive returns from Denver next weekend but he’s only in town for a couple of days before he leaves for Dubai for a month. I’d like him to be able to share it with her.’

  Bea smiled at her nervous customer. ‘That’s settled then. Next Tuesday it is. Give me an idea of your budget and Russ and I will get our thinking caps on …’

  Jake was watching her intently as Bea retold the story. ‘So the upshot is that we’re going to host our first kids’ party next Tuesday evening, from six thirty till eight thirty. And I know it’s not a weekend and you’ll probably be busy, but I wondered if you fancied coming along.’

  ‘Me? At a kids’ party?’

  Bea’s heart sank. Of course it was a ridiculous idea! Why had she even asked? ‘It was just a thought. Sorry, ignore me.’ Great way to scupper a successful day out, Bea …

  Jake’s smile widened as he considered her crazy request. ‘What the heck? It might be fun.’

  Bea was shocked. ‘Really? I mean it will be a case of all hands on deck – I might need you to help serve drinks and food.’

  Jake grinned. ‘Hey, I think I more than proved my bartending skills at the party, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, you did. Although you might not be serving much whisky and champagne at Bronagh’s eleventh birthday party.’

  A wicked glint flashed in Jake’s blue eyes. ‘Depends how bad the party gets.’

  ‘Suit Man.’

  ‘His name is Jake.’

  Russ didn’t move, blocking the entrance to the bookstore as they stood in the office. ‘You asked Suit Man to help us at the party?’

  Bea stood her ground, secretly wishing she hadn’t chosen this morning to break the news to Russ. There was so much to organise and little time to do it in: plus they had a visit from a local kindergarten that afternoon when she wouldn’t be able to do anything other than control crowds of overexcited youngsters. ‘Yes, I did. Now can you let me pass, please?’

  ‘Not until you tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I have a ton of arrangements to make this morning before Sunnyvale Kindergarten invades.’

  ‘You know what I’m asking, Bea! What is it with this guy?’

  Bea smiled her best apologetic smile. ‘I’ve been hanging out with him.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Well, you know I told you I’ve been out exploring New York with a friend? Jake is that friend.’

  Aghast, Russ stared at her. ‘I thought you said you weren’t going to contact him. When he brought his card over.’

  ‘Yes, well, things change.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’

  The truth was Bea had been too busy enjoying her new friendship with Jake to fill Russ in on the pertinent details. Seeing his expression now, she wished that she had. ‘I’m sorry, Russ. I meant to tell you …’

  Russ rolled his eyes. ‘See, I knew something was happening. You’ve been different for weeks: lost in your own thoughts, distant. And now I know why.’

  ‘I made a mistake, OK? I should have told you. But now you know. He’s a friend – nothing more – and so I asked him to come and help us because there is no way you and I can handle fifteen eleven-year-olds by ourselves. Believe it or not, I was trying to be helpful.’

  Chastened by her outburst, Russ attempted a smile. ‘So Suit Man’s just a friend?’

  ‘That’s what I said. And for the last time, his name is Jake. Can we get on now?’

  That evening, exhausted from Bronagh’s party planning and the relentless joy of twenty little kindergarten kids descending for games and story-time in the bookstore, Bea sat at the small, flea-market-find desk in her apartment. She needed to quantify her wandering thoughts on paper – and there was only one person who she knew would help her make sense of it all …

  Hi Grandma Dot,

  I’m sorry it’s been a while since I last wrote. Thank you for my lovely parcels and letters – it’s so lovely to have the Book Mice back in my life!

  Everything is good here. I’ve been organising HRB’s first children’s party today! One of our young customers asked if she could celebrate her eleventh birthday at the bookshop: remind you of anyone? I remember my eighth birthday party that you threw for me at Severnside Books. It was perfect for a little bookworm like me! I’m determined to make it a success, even though we now have less than a week to organise everything. If it goes well, who knows? Maybe it will be something we can offer as an extra service.

  I’ve been spending my weekends with Jake, exploring New York. Oh, Grandma, it’s been so much fun! We take it in turns to choose where we go and there is always a personal reason behind it. For example, this week I took Jake to the daft cheese shop café in SoHo I told you about; last week Jake took me to Coney Island, which was great fun. I feel like our friendship has appeared serendipitously, just when we both needed it. Not having the usual pressures and concerns of the dating thing hanging over us has been wonderful. He doesn’t want a relationship and neither do I – so our outings can just be about fun and friendship.

  I know you think I shouldn’t rule out future relationships, but this is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time. You’ve always told me to follow my heart: right now it’s telling me that I’m doing the right thing.

  Write soon!

  Lots of love,

  Bea xxxx

  Bea thr
ew herself into preparations for the children’s party, roping in Imelda to help dress the bookstore, inspired by her success with Celia’s book launch decorations. They decided to transform Hudson River Books into an enchanted story forest, complete with hanging tree branches, hidden fairies and, of course, more twinkly lights than the bookstore usually held at Christmas. Russ worked on wooden animals to scatter through the centre of the shop: a wise owl with bright yellow eyes, baby deer, rabbits and hedgehogs.

  For catering, Bea visited Sugar Rush Cupcakery, a new cupcake bakery that had opened a block from her apartment in Boerum Hill, and ordered a delectable feast of sugar treats to ensure Bronagh and her friends could celebrate in style. Luc from Stromoli’s also agreed to provide a couple of trays of canapés for the parents of the partygoers. According to Bronagh’s mother, word had quickly spread about the unusual party venture and parents were eager to attend to experience the event for themselves.

  On top of the day-to-day running of the store, planning the party claimed much of Bea’s time, but she didn’t care. She loved being busy and was excited to see where this new development would lead. Even when she was at home her mind was abuzz with finishing touches she could add to give Bronagh a birthday party to remember.

  Three days after she had posted her letter to Grandma Dot, a parcel arrived. The Book Mice were dressed like Musketeers – or, as Grandma Dot had written beneath them on the brown paper package, Mouseketeers … Inside was a vintage copy of Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac in a printed blue and red slipcase. The yellow Severnside Books bookmark wasn’t marking a place this time: instead, Grandma Dot had written on it: ‘All is explained in the letter, darling!’

  Dearest Bea,

  Thank you for your letter. I’m delighted that things are going so well for you and that you’re happy, which is all I care about. And yes, I remember that birthday party! You were very excited because I dressed up as a storyteller and read chapters from George’s Marvellous Medicine to you all. You were in love with Roald Dahl then, as I recall.