Manhattan Dreaming (27 page)

‘I think it's good to have embraced it. We generally go by Aboriginal or Indigenous when others want to lump us together, and otherwise by nations and clans.' I could hear Libby from the counter.

‘Well, I'd prefer Native to some of the alternatives from our past.' Wyatt stood up and handed Libby her jacket. ‘Like red men or redskin, or god forbid, injun! Now that is offensive,' Wyatt continued, ushering Libby towards me.

‘We better go, Libs,' I said, putting my gloves on.

‘It was deadly to meet you, Wyatt,' Libby said.

‘Awesome to meet you, too.'

Wyatt turned left out of the coffee shop and we turned right and ran all the way to Battery Park to board the ferry, meeting up with lots of other international tourists just like Libby and I.

‘Wyatt is such a nice guy, and cluey about the arts, eh?'

‘Yes, very, on both counts.'

‘So why aren't you interested in him? You've almost got the same CV, you get on better than any couple I know, and you'd look great together.'

‘What are you going on about?'

‘Don't tell me you haven't noticed how funny he is, and of course he's Indigenous, so there's a whole lot of stuff you wouldn't have to explain about life and culture. Actually, maybe
I
should date him?'

‘He's gay for starters and even if he weren't … you know I don't mix business with pleasure.'

I felt strange at the thought of Libby dating him.

‘Really? He's gay? I didn't get that vibe at all,' Libby said.

‘Aren't you the one that said a straight man will make a pass at you almost immediately?'

‘Oh yes,' and she looked me up and down, ‘he
definitely
would've made a pass at you for sure by now if he were straight. You're looking good, Lauren. New York really suits you.'

‘Thank you for the compliment.'

‘Well, all I can say is that it's a shame for us if Wyatt's gay, but not for the guys of New York,' Libby said as we boarded the ferry and scanned the lower deck for a seat.

‘Anyway, I'm with Cash,' I said, almost as an afterthought, but Libby wasn't listening any more. Cash loved me, and that's what I had wanted all along. I just wished I could feel happier about it, and that I could love him back. My plans for going home were probably keeping my feelings under control and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

‘Why don't they get a room,' Libby groaned about a couple making out in front of everyone on the boat. ‘God, that turns my stomach.'

‘What? Public shows of affection? I think it's nice. Cash likes to pash in public.'

‘Oh god, the public pash, aren't you too old for that?'

‘No, I missed out on it back home so I don't mind catching up a bit here.'

‘Oh my god,' Libby cringed.

‘What now?'

‘Look at those souvenirs.' She pointed to the foam Miss Liberty crowns and glasses and caps. ‘They're so tacky, but I have to have one. You want one?'

‘Not my style,' I said, running my hands over my furry pink hat that I still pretended wasn't rabbit fur.

‘You've gone all Manhattan snobby on us, haven't you? Loz the lover of the Big Merino would've got something for sure.' Libby tried one of the crowns on.

‘I just think it's a waste of money. I'd rather save it up for going out.'

Libby spent the entire boat ride taking photos of everything but I just wanted to sit back and soak it all in – the water, the view, the meaning of Miss Liberty – and I wondered if in fact I had become snobby since moving to Manhattan.

The Hudson was a long way from Lake George at home, and I thought back to the drive between Goulburn and Canberra, feeling homesick, interrupted only when Libby nudged me for a photo of her with the statue in the background.

We arrived on the island and queued up to get to the statue.

‘The security guard is cute,' Libby said, smiling hugely at him as we got to the first check point. He was too busy telling people they couldn't take food or water or backpacks into the area to notice her smile – and then he focused on her bag.

‘Ma'am, where are you from?' he asked Libby.

‘Australia. Canberra, to be exact,' she said, smiling as if he was coming on to her.

‘Well, those bags might be fashionable in Australia, but it's the size of a mail sack. Perhaps you put kangaroos in there, but it's too big to take inside. You'll have to put it in a locker.'

‘What? It's not
that
big.' Libby grasped her groovy tote from the gallery defensively.

‘Ma'am, the truth is I could fit my cousin Lenny in there. Good luck trying to get it through the next round of security.'

‘I'd be happy to put Lenny in here and take him back with me,' Libby flirted, and the guard just smiled and waved her through.

We continued on to the main security screening, which was noisy with families and couples, school groups and teenagers out for the day, all of us queuing together in a marquee. Libby's bag went in unchallenged. Once in the building we were greeted by a guide who introduced himself as Sid.

‘Good morning, ladies, where are you from?' Sid asked.

‘Canberra, Australia,' we said in unison.

‘I've never heard of Canberra – I mainly meet people who come from Melbawne, and I tell them to get a life and move to Sydney. They have that fabulous Mardi Gras there. Do you want me to take a photo of you together?'

‘Thanks,' we both said and then began the tour proper.

‘I think Sid would really like Sydney,' Libs said as we walked through the museum.

We had to decide if we wanted to take the lift or the stairs to the Lady. As I was on a fitness kick, the stairs were my preferred option, but Libby wanted to take the lift. We were just about to have an argument when Libby started talking to Rick, a park ranger. Rick wanted us to hang out with him for the day. I dragged Libby away.

‘Why did you do that? We could've hung out!'

‘God, it is so painfully obvious you've been without male company for eighteen months. Let's burn off that frustration by climbing the 186 steps up to the woman herself.'

‘Yes, Rick said the stairs were a better idea than the lift, so let's do that.'

We climbed the stairs but not into the eyes of Lady Liberty, rather to her base. Both Libby and I were annoyed.

‘What? You don't actually get to go UP the statue? What's the point?' Libby said at the top of her voice.

‘Oh, I didn't know, I thought you could get into the eyeballs, like we used to do in the Big Merino.'

We left the statue and boarded the boat to Ellis Island and Libby was excited. I was still a tourist, of course, but New York was so intense and tiring I'd become exhausted from work and the cold. The tourist adrenalin is not something you can maintain for months on end.

The Ellis Island Immigration Processing Center was interesting, and it really made us think about the way in which migrants and especially refugees today were processed back home, and the shame we felt at Australia being the only developed nation to have a policy of mandatory detention for refugees arriving over its borders.

We missed the ferry back so went back in to have a coffee while we waited for the next one. I wanted to have a Diet Coke and salad because I had been eating more than I usually did back in Canberra, but I caved in and had chocolate fudge and a hot chocolate.

‘I really should watch my waistline,' Libby said, as she dug her teeth into the fudge before we left the counter.

‘What for, girl? You're looking good,' the barista said, taking all of Libby in with his eyes. She loved it. I laughed. It was the sort of thing I had become used to in New York.

‘I'm moving here,' Libby said as she looked back towards the fella, still grinning. ‘I can't believe the men here. They're so forward. And not Fyshwick forward either. I love it.'

‘Yeah, it's pretty special. I told you. But then, didn't you tell me first? You know, the Manhattan Movie weekend we had. I'm really only here because of you and Denise.'

We stood in the crowd at Times Square and counted down – 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! New Year's Eve rang out across New York, only fourteen hours behind Sydney and Canberra. Cash kissed me.

It was the moment I had been waiting for – not the kiss, but the famous New Year's Eve Ball descending from the flagpole atop number one Times Square. And I wasn't the only one excited about it – there were a million other revellers there also, just waiting for the clock to strike midnight. I'd seen it on telly back home, and nothing in Goulburn or Canberra came close to this tradition. I took photo after photo for Mum and the aunties to enjoy when I got back.

‘It's a work of art,' I said to Cash.

‘What is?'

‘The beautiful ball, with all those Waterford Crystals. Over two thousand of them, and look at all the colours.'

‘That kaleidoscope effect is awesome, isn't it?' Even Cash was overwhelmed, perhaps a little too much. ‘Happy New Year,' he said, kissing me again, and I held the kiss as long as I could, but then it got too hot and heavy and we were after all in a public place, and even on New Year's Eve you had to contain yourself.

The cheering and singing continued and I was glad for the crowd and the noise as it confused the moment and gave me space to think, and at least not speak too much. Cash didn't seem too concerned, just happy to be there with me. My phone was vibrating with messages.

Libby had gone to the Australian so she could be with the guy we only referred to as ‘The Barman' at midnight. She'd done a huge about face on the ‘Australian pub in New York' issue. And her man-fast was finally over. Eighteen months was a long time to go without sex, especially in Canberra, where cold winters require someone to love. New Year's in New York made loving mandatory. Vikki and Kirsten were still away, so Cash was glad to have me to himself for the night.

At 1 am we went back to his restaurant and stayed until dawn with his staff and some of his regular customers. As the sun was rising Libby sent me a text with a photo of her in the cabin of an NYFD truck with firies on either side of her. She looked content and I was glad I could just tick the photo request off my ‘To Do' list.

Over the next week Libby and I stuck to her schedule. We visited the Museum of Modern Art, otherwise known as MoMA, and then we checked out Ground Zero, which was still surrounded by scaffolding so there wasn't much to see. We went shopping at Century 21, and then, as we sat in E8 on the afternoon of Libby's last night in New York, she went through her list. It had more and more items added to it every day, and by now it looked like the New York subway map, with different colours, and a code to understand it.

‘Oh my god, we forgot to go up the Empire State Building. Let's do that at sunset,' Libby said, looking at her watch, ‘and then go out for dinner. It'd be the perfect end to the perfect holiday.'

‘Oh, um, I don't know,' is all I could say, but I didn't know why.

‘Have you done it already?' Libby asked. ‘It's okay if you have, but can't you do it again? I told you I wanted to do it before you even left Canberra.'

‘I haven't done it, but Vikki said Top of the Rock is better, we should go there.'

‘Top of the Rock? Shit, what's wrong with you? That's not the Empire State Building. What about Cary Grant and Tom Hanks and
Sleepless in Seattle
? I thought
you
were meant to be the romantic.'

‘You knocked any notion of romance I had right out of me with your freaking intervention.'

‘Ah, so this is about Adam, is it? That'd be right. Six months later, thousands of miles away and you're still letting him ruin your life.'

‘It's not about him, and he's not ruining my life. I'm claustrophobic. I'm frightened of the lift and being in it all that time.'

‘What? You've been in lifts. I've been in lifts
with you
. You did Black Mountain Tower.' Libby had an accusatory tone in her voice.

‘The Empire State Building is taller, and are you calling me a liar?'

‘Don't worry, I'll go by myself.' She got up and walked out of the bar, and before I had a chance to catch her I saw her jumping in a cab.

I felt terrible. We had never had a fight, and we were in New York and it was wrong. I should have gone after her. She was my best friend. But I just couldn't do it. I had my ideas about the Empire State Building, and if I wasn't going to do it with Adam then I didn't want to do it at all. And I certainly wasn't going to do it just with a girlfriend and risk being embarrassingly sick. I went back home and hoped she'd call soon.

For twenty-five minutes I walked around the lounge room fuming that she'd run off, and not sure what to do. I was worried. I loved Libby, and she was my dearest friend. I texted her but she didn't text me back. I put my coat on again and went uptown, not knowing exactly what I would do. When I got to the building I still couldn't go up, so I just waited and watched people queuing for their tickets. A security guard approached me.

‘Ma'am, you'll have to either move forward or leave. We can't have people loitering.'

‘I'm sorry, I'm just nervous about the lift. I don't think I can do it. My friend is up there, but I just can't do it.' I still didn't really know why, but blamed the claustrophobia anyway.

‘That's okay, ma'am, it happens a lot, but you can't stand there any longer, I'm sorry.'

‘I understand, but where would a woman go next if she were stood up here? I mean, if she went to the top and was disappointed, you know, if a friend didn't go with her?'

‘Oh, there are plenty of bars around here, but are you looking for somewhere special, fancy?' He looked at me for agreement.

‘Yes, I want something nice.'

‘Then definitely head to the Campbell Apartment at Grand Central Station. They do good martinis.'

‘Thank you,' I said, hurrying out the door. I jumped in a taxi and went to Grand Central and found the cocktail bar, where I got a seat and texted Libby immediately.

And then I just waited and waited and waited for what felt like hours, but was only forty minutes. Then my phone beeped with a message from Libby.

I breathed a sigh of relief, drank Libby's martini, and ordered another round.

I started to cry the minute she sat down.

‘I'm so sorry, I should've gone with you. Can you ever forgive me?'

‘It's fine, Lauren. Turns out you were right anyway, this time.'

‘What?'

‘It was a major let down, really. There was no magic up there, or romance, not that I was looking for that. I was interested in the history, but it was just really bland. And it was so cold, Jesus, I nearly froze to death.'

‘Here, this'll warm you up.' I moved the martini towards her, and she sipped.

‘I'm surprised there's no bar in the building. It's the perfect place to have one, what with all those broken hearts who've been stood up. They could go to the same bar and just hook up with each other.'

‘Sounds like a great marketing idea.'

‘And it was so bloody cramped. There was no room for Cary Grant's ghost, let alone the real Tom Hanks. I should've listened to you.'

‘I should've been honest with you ages ago about the claustrophobia – I managed to keep it hidden in Canberra because none of the buildings are that tall, and there's no lifts at the NAG. I had an incident on the plane coming over, and another at Macy's, so I try and avoid them altogether now.'

‘I'm sorry I doubted you, but I had no idea you were a claustrophobic freak,' Libby said jokingly.

‘And I had no idea you were such a bloody schedule freak!' I said laughing, pretending to tear up the now tattered list.

‘Here's cheers to freaky friends,' I said, and we toasted the night away.