Page 86 of Growing Into Love

He laughs. “I’ll take you to Fifty-Ninth Street. That’s the flagship—and you can get that hot dog in Central Park after.” He winks at her in the rearview mirror. Cass bounces in her seat with excitement. This is exactly the sort of treat she deserves.

The car weaves through the bustling streets, full of yellow cabs just like in the movies, horns honking, pedestrians everywhere. I feel dizzy from it all. How do the people who live here stand it? It’s somuch.But it makes Cass happy and that’s all that matters. Jim pulls up to an enormous building with huge glass-paned windows showcasing mannequins in various high-end clothes.

“Here’s my number,” he says, handing me a business card. “Just text me when you’re ready to be picked up.”

“Cheers,” I say. Cass is already tumbling out of the car in her eagerness.

We enter the store and everything smells like…well, rather like Autumn. Like expensive things I’d be too frightened to wear lest I ruin them. Cass gleefully rifles through the racks as I follow patiently, letting her pile hangers full of clothes into my arms before she runs to the dressing room. She only comes back with two items, and ducks into the loo after the cashier rings her up. She emerges in a sleeveless dress the molten orange color of a sunrise with a pleated skirt and a pair of gold flats.

My eyes pop. “Holy hell,” I say as she twirls, laughing. “You look gorgeous.”

“I wanted to treat myself.” She kisses me. “Now, let’s go get a hot dog.”

I check my phone. “At ten o’clock in the morning?”

She shrugs. “We’re on New York time!”

“I’m not sure that’s a thing,” I say, laughing. But I’m not about to burst her bubble. I offer her my arm and we leave the store and head toward Central Park. The hotdog is a letdown but the park itself is lovely. Cass and I stroll around a little pond, tossing leftover bits of hotdog bun to the ducks. People on bicycles whiz past, couples canoodle on park benches, and the sunlight filters down through the trees, dappling the little paths that weave through the grass.

“All right,” I say. “What’s next?”

“Let’s use those tickets Betty gave us for the Empire State Building.”

I text Jim to pick us up and he takes us there. The traffic really is horrific—I wonder how anyone who lives here deals with it. It takes forever just to go ten blocks. Cass and I wait in a long line to get into a lift that takes us up, up, up…We emerge at the top of the Empire State and she gasps at the incredible view, Manhattan spreading out before us.

I feel a sharp twist of vertigo. It’s so high up. My legs start to shake.

“Wow,” Cass says, rushing to the ledge and gazing out at the city. “Jaz come see this!”

“I’m good,” I call, keeping close to the wall with the lift. I feel a bit queasy.

“Are you afraid of heights?” she asks.

“Er, yeah.”

“I didn’t know that.”

I chuckle breathily. “I didn’t either. Never been anywhere this high before.”

She comes over and takes my arm. “Let’s go.”

“No, go on. I know you wanted to see this.”

She shrugs. “I’ve seen it. I’m hungry again. Let’s get some better food.”

I give her a wan grin. “Now you’re talking.”

We head back down to the street and Cass asks Jim for a recommendation for unique cuisine.

“You could try Ethiopian food,” he says. “Or I know a good Vietnamese place. Oh! There’s a wonderful Georgian restaurant down in the West Village. Do you guys like cheese? They serve this traditional Georgian dish of melted cheese in a giant bread bowl.”

“Take us there immediately,” Cass says. The café is adorable, small white tables and a glass display counter featuring all sorts of strange pastries. Cass and I get the cheese bowl—called Adjaruli Khachapuri—and some delicious dumplings.

“Wow,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I don’t much fancy all the buildings or the crowds, but I’ll give New York this—the food is terrific.”

“Better than a hotdog?” Cass teases.

“Loads better. All right, what’s next?” I’m trying to keep my chin up but I’m beginning to feel quite exhausted. New York is rather draining. I’m happy that we’re staying someplace out of the city this evening. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep with all this noise.

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