Page 78 of Not in My Book

A German Shepard and a golden retriever were facing each other in Central Park like on the movie poster, fall leaves decorating the background. The golden retriever, Meg, was standing dignified, her hands clasped in front of her. The artist had even captured Meg Ryan’s unruly hair.

“How much for this one?” I asked the man in the booth.

“Twenty.”

I turned to Aiden. “Chump change for a masterpiece like this. Twenty bucks? I would’ve paidfifty.”

“Maybe don’t say that so loud, Rosie,” Aiden muttered.

I happily paid the man, who wrapped my print carefully and placed it in a bag. He held it out for me, but Aiden grabbed it before I could.

“I’ll hold it. C’mon, let’s keep looking around.”

We walked around the Holiday Village twice. I kept getting distracted by the holiday foods and unique booths. They had nearly everything I would never need but desperately wanted.

We stopped at a booth that sold antique jewelry and when my eyes snagged on a delicate silver locket I couldn’t help but gasp. I carefully held up the necklace, turning the piece over in my hand.

“That’s pretty,” Aiden said, peering over my shoulder.

“My lita gave me onejustlike this when I was little. I would wear it all the time. But one day the chain broke, and I didn’t notice until it was too late.”

My lita, or abuelita, had worn it the first time I visited Peru when I was seven. I was sitting in her lap at dinner one night and I couldn’tstop playing with it. I gushed over how beautiful it was, my mom translating for me. She slipped it over her head and over mine. The cold metal pressed against my skin. I clutched onto the locket all night, afraid to lose it. I wore it everywhere after that.

In high school, my friends and I had a tradition that after any winning football game we’d go to Waffle House. One night, sitting in our usual booth, I realized the locket was gone and the chain must have broken. Simon drove me back to the stadium, and I spent hours looking through the field and stands, only to come up empty handed.

“How much?” Aiden asked the vendor.

“Three hundred,” the man replied. “It’s an antique, pure silver.”

“Oh,” I said softly, setting it back down. I couldn’t justify spending that much on a necklace. “That’s okay, thanks anyway.”

We finished our walk through the park and after I detoured to the nearby Whole Foods to use the bathroom, we stood at the edge of the square, away from the crowds.

“Where to now?” I looked up at Aiden.

“Wherever you want. You mentioned Macy’s earlier.”

My mouth parted in surprise. “You would suffer through Midtown for me?”

Aiden smiled and nodded. “Yeah, Rosie. I would.”

I hoped it didn’t show on my face how much IlikedAiden in that moment. He’d never smiled at me like this before we were friends. When we truly despised each other, I got frowns all day, etched into his face. I used to take satisfaction in the fact that he’d probably develop wrinkles from the frown lines. But now, the wrinkles had floated up his face toward his eyes, crinkling in the sunlight. This smile was especially designed and produced forme.

“Train or walk?” he asked.

“Walk,” I said immediately. “I want to check out the window displays on our way there.”

He grabbed my hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and said, “Lead the way.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m begging.”

“Iwon’t.”

“Aiden, it won’t be that bad. I promise.”

He shot me a dirty look. “Youknowit’ll be that bad. That’s why you’re begging.”

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