Page 43 of My Book Boyfriend
“Yes,” she says. “What’s the funniest book you’ve ever read?”
“A Confederacy of Dunces.”
“I was reading that on a train in Holland, and I remember someone said to me in Dutch that the book must be really funny because I kept laughing.”
“Best book about New York City?” I ask. “I’d pickBright Lights, Big City.”
“I have to pick Bella’s. She captures the New York I know,” she says. “Did you ever want to be a writer?”
“No,” I say. “I enjoy reading too much. I definitely don’t want to turn my respite into my job.”
“That’s a good point.”
The streets of New York at this hour are empty, the stores closed, but it doesn’t feel lonely because there’s still so much life, even if sleeping. The blinking neon lights of store signs, the lit-up window displays, the zoom of the cars passing us, the spray of water from the fountains diagonally across from Radio City Music Hall, Lily’s hand in my pocket—all of it works together to make the night feel alive.
We discuss some more of our favorite books.
“What lines from a book made you pause and think, ‘That’s brilliant’?” I ask.
“I love the line inCowboys Are My Weaknessby Pamela Houston when the protagonist says her lover pretends he’s not good with words, and yet, when he talks about next fall or summer, it’s impossible to tell if she is included in those plans. That’s one of my favorite lines ever.”
I glance at her. “That’s not a very nice reflection on men.”
“No,” she says, “perhaps not. Dating in New York, though, is tough. You saw what happened with my date for the evening. I basically got dumped in some public, passive-aggressive maneuver. It wasn’t even quick and painful. And maybe we were just friends, but I still wouldn’t treat my friend that way. As you said, if I’ve agreed to be someone’s date, I’ve made a commitment.” She appears to be hobbling slightly.
“Are your shoes bothering you?”
“I didn’t really plan for a long walk in them—after dancing too. But I’ll be fine.”
“You know what I thought when we passed Bryant Park? That I’d like to go there in the summer with you when they’re having a movie night.”
“It is easy to say that, but there’s a good chance that we can’t actually be a couple—because we’ll be on opposite sides in a lawsuit.”
I don't know what to respond to that.
We reach 59thand Central Park. The entrance to the park, usually crowded with bicycle cabs for hire, is empty. The bare tree branches sway in the light wind.
“Can we sit for a moment?” she asks. We take a seat on a bench. The iron is cold under my legs. It must be even colder under her dress.
“You can sit on one of the Citi Bikes, and I can wheel you,” I say.
“It looks like there are three bikes. I’ll bike,” she says. “I can hike up my dress.”
We walk over to the Citi Bikes. We each pull up the app on our phones, but it turns out only one is available. The others are out of service.
“Let’s take that one,” I say. “Hop on, my lady.”
She laughs and sits on the seat sideways. “Are you sure it’s okay? It’s probably going to be a pain.”
It’s great. She’s so close to me. She smells of lilies and laundry. I wheel the bicycle forward as she kind of leans on me. It’s definitely not smooth.
“Maybe you need to grab on to me,” I say.
“If you insist.” She hooks one arm around my waist. “It’s like we’re doing a three-legged sack race but with a bicycle. I’m not sure this works.”
I glance at her. “It’s working for me.”
She blushes.
