Year of the Chick (32 page)

I was smart not to put on the moves, since less than ten minutes later the driver pulled over at the corner of Fifty-Ninth and Fifth.

“Are you up for a little walk?” said James.

 
“Oh my God.” I beamed. “I love Central Park!”

“I know, you mentioned it in your e-mail.”

I gasped. “I can’t believe you remembered!”

“Well, it’s Central Park, not a back-alley restaurant in Chinatown. So it wasn’t terribly hard to remember.”

We clambered out of the car but I wasn’t done talking.

“Fine, it’s a normal occurrence to remember Central Park, and you’re NOT amazing. Now hold on for a sec, I just need to text my friend so she knows where I am.”

He tried to look over my shoulder and read the text. “Ah, the friend who’s here with you? To make sure I’m not an unsavoury individual?”

I turned around and scowled. “Stop trying to spy on my texts!”

He laughed. “My apologies, please continue.”

I turned around and started up again, but I could see his shadow in the snow and it was coming up close. This time I turned around and pushed him but he barely moved an inch.
So you’re strong, I like it.

“Okay,” I started, in the calmest tone possible. “I’m going to stand over there by that tree.” I pointed to my left. “When the message is sent I’ll come back. Okay?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”

I stood against the tree and finished the text: “At Central Park. He’s not a psycho but he’s fucking hot. More later! xo”

I tossed the phone in my bag and our late-day stroll officially began.

We didn’t have to make it far to see the beauty of the place. A thick layer of last night’s snowfall, trees with icy branches, slivers of sun peaking through, it was lovely.

We walked around, kicked snow, and talked about anything and everything. To my surprise we hadn’t started any writing discussion yet, considering how often it used to come up before.

But it’s fine, let’s just go with the flow.

When we reached a stretch of beautiful trees with Belvedere Castle beyond, it suddenly hit me.

Picture!

“Picture,” I said out loud.

“Picture?” he said, looking slightly confused.

Yes, actual photographic evidence, yay!

I took out my camera and clicked away like a tourist. Most of the time I took pictures of trees to pretend I didn’t care about him, but eventually the time for joint photos was upon us. And I loved it. He was taller so he snapped all of those, and without even thinking, I would wrap my arms around his waist and smile. Of course, beyond that smile was a feeling of intimidation. And how could I not be intimidated? I could feel his rock hard stomach even through his coat.

I need to get a personal trainer.

As we continued along the trail with James leading the way, I looked over my shoulder at Belvedere Castle. How romantic it might’ve been to go to the highest balcony and soak in the view.

Maybe next time.

The darkness started creeping its way into the park, and the air was getting colder all the time.

I took my mittens from my bag and put them on, silently thrilled that the vanilla/foot cream mixer had preserved my wretched hands for this long.

James turned and watched, still walking but walking backwards now.
He even looks cool when he walks backwards.

“What?” I said, glancing up at him with a smile. Silently I hoped he would trip and fall on a squirrel just to wipe away his coolness.

“Nothing.” He looked amused.

“Well I’m glad you find my mittens to be funny, but it’s purely functional. I mean it’s cold you know.” I kicked some snow in his direction, even though he’d wandered further away.

“Are you going to wait for me?” I yelled. “Or just leave me here in the dark with a bunch of rabid squirrels?”

I started walking fast, still fiddling with my mittens and not really looking where I was going.

“I am waiting for you.” His voice was much closer now.

“And by the way,” I yelled, before realizing he was right in front of me.

“Yes?”

“Oh,” I said, now staring up into his eyes.
Did he just get taller or am I shrinking?
“I wanted to ask, how are you so warm when you don’t even have gloves?”

“Pockets,” he said softly. “Wonderful things.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled.

“Well I would love to put my hands in my pockets too, but whoever made this jacket decided grown-up women have midget hands. Like seriously, look! I can only fit half my fingers in!”

I showed him and shook my head.

“What? Let me see that.” He walked right over and tried to stuff his hands in my pockets.

Uhh...excuse me?

He didn’t make it very far, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. His man-plates were on a way bigger scale than mine. Not that he’d noticed it of course. Unfortunately the pockets were directly over my stomach.
Uh-oh!
I sucked in and held my breath as he continued to struggle. Did he notice? He might if I didn’t start breathing again soon.

“Small,” he said, staring right into my eyes.

“Huhmm?” I mumbled, trying not to let any air out.

Calm yourself woman!

“Your pockets are very small,” he repeated, before smiling and pulling away.
 

I exhaled as quietly as I could. This was getting to be hard work.

“Wow, look at that, it’s already dark,” I observed.
Not my most intelligent of statements.

James glanced at his watch. “It’s five o’ clock. Let’s go.”

“Go? Where to?” I was starting to feel like a child on a kindergarten excursion. Which meant he should probably hold my hand.

 
“You will have to wait and see,” he said.

 
“Okay,” I said grinning.
Grinning? Too eager, stop grinning.

I suddenly remembered Laura, and fumbled through my bag for my cell phone.

“Your roommate?” he said, looking at the phone in my hand.

“Yes, her. She’ll be needing the latest location.”

The car was still waiting for us where we’d left it, and I was so looking forward to the warmth it would offer. As I tried to get ready for my latest text to Laura, my phone screen flickered pathetically, eventually fading out.
What?
I shook it hard and then banged it in my hand, much to James’s amusement.

 
“Oh that will surely help,” he said.

He was right, nothing worked. The phone was dead.

 
“Could I ask a big favour?” I said, looking at James as he stood by the opened car door. “My cell phone just died, but if we go past my hotel I can let Laura know I’m okay.”

Smooth! I should have thought of this one earlier. “Here’s my hotel room, James. And here’s the bed...”

 
“Sure we can, we’re heading across there anyway.”

 
“Great, then let’s go!”

James took my hand and I stepped into the car before he followed. I could tell that I was getting used to this.

Best day ever.

***

At first, James insisted he stay in the car when we arrived outside the hotel, but there was no way that was going to happen. He had to meet Laura, so I could score some major points and trade gossip on the plane ride home. Would she even be in the room? Maybe she was lounging around naked and James would dump me for her. Would that happen? Of course it wouldn’t. Was I actually having an argument with myself?!

“So which floor?” he said, as we stood in the elevator.

“Oh umm...fifteen.” He pressed the button as I firmly held the key card in my hand.

It suddenly occurred to me that if Laura wasn’t there, James and I would have the room to ourselves.
Me, him, and a bed.

Before I had a chance to overanalyze too much we were standing in front of my room.

I unlocked the door and then instinctively knocked. “Laura?” I called out.

I opened the door to find a dark and empty room.

When I hit the light switch I immediately regretted it.
 

The place was an absolute mess. I’d completely forgotten how I’d tossed out the entire contents of my suitcase that morning, while desperately searching for my silver earrings.

Oh my god, is that my PADDED bra on the floor?

Laura meanwhile had all her belongings neatly tucked away in her suitcase.

Hmm...

James followed me in and I watched his reaction as he took in the mess. I definitely saw a flicker of something in his eyes.

“God! Laura is such a spaz!” I quickly said. “I can’t believe she dumped her whole suitcase like that!” I sighed and shrugged my shoulders.

He seemed to buy the story, so I scrambled for a pen and paper to write Laura a note. I needed to tell her I was still alive, but really I was hoping that James would just push me onto the bed.
Oh the bed!
I turned around and couldn’t help but notice how cozy my bed really looked. It’s not like I believed anything would happen, but that didn’t stop the movie from playing a loop in my head. In this case the reel was the one where he stared at me hard, then threw me to the bed with one easy swoop. And things would get a little more intense after that.

“Everything okay?” It was James. I was dreaming not writing.
Laura!

“Oh yes sorry, all good. Just figuring out what to write.”

“I see.”
He looked at me oddly and I wondered what he was thinking. Meanwhile all I wanted was the movie in my head to resume.

But could I ever really say that my life was a movie? When my day started out with vomit, and covering my hands in foot cream?

This ain’t no fucking movie.

“If you need something to write, how about: ‘Hi Laura I’m fine, my phone died and I’ll talk to you later’?”

“That’s just what I was going to write!” I scribbled the words out, folded the note into a little paper tent and left it propped next to the television.

“Alright,” he said. “On to the next stop.”

***

By the force of some weird voodoo curse, the evil clock had shifted forward to half past eight.

But what did I even know about the clock? I was too busy having the time of my life.

James had taken me to a lovely restaurant in Little Italy.
No sushi bar, thank God.
It felt so rustic and the ambience so romantic, that I’d forgotten we were even in New York. As for my belly it forgot all about my mother’s cooking, thanks to the freshest fettuccine and silkiest four-cheese sauce I’d ever tasted.

In terms of close contact I could only thank the wine, as halfway through the bottle our bodies had gotten closer. I wouldn’t call it anything crazy on the physical level, but it was nice to know I had a shoulder to lean on, when the wine got to be a bit much.

Despite all the wine, we were knee-deep into our mutually favourite topic: writing. I was amazed at how he could carry the discussion, and I never felt bored for a second. We talked about some of our favourite authors, the first book we remembered from our childhood, and the one book we had read the most number of times. Mine was “Jane Eyre” and his was “The Thirty Nine Steps.”
 

I liked it better this way. I felt like I was getting to know him, and I didn’t feel pressure to explain my goals or how and when I would accomplish them.
Goals are too scary, and could this night just never end please? Thank you.

I changed the subject by pointing to our empty table. “So what’s for dessert?”
Does that make me sound like a pig?

He shook his head. “No dessert here I’m afraid. How about we go somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else? You really have this day all planned out,” I said smiling.

I love this guy!

“There’s too much New York to stay seated in one place.” He signaled to the waiter for the check.

Okay James Caldwell, you lead the way…

***

I looked all around me and smiled.

“How do you find these adorable places? First, that amazing restaurant, and now we’re in the cutest little French café. I don’t even know what it’s called!”

Well actually the sign out front was a good indication. We were sitting in the Café D’or on Lexington Avenue, and the entire room had a warm yellow glow. The large Christmas tree in the back made it seem even cozier.

“These places aren’t hard to find,” he said. He smiled as he fed me another bite of cake.

It is December 19th, and James and I are feeding each other cake in New York City. I am officially in heaven!

We continued to talk and make each other laugh. Often when I’d laugh a lock of my hair would fall across my face, and somewhere along the way, James had taken it upon himself to tuck those errant strands behind my ear. It was one of those tiny moments I’d never ever get from an e-mail or the phone, so I tried my damndest to savour each one.