4
She headedinto the city the next night after a day spent scoping out her new neighborhood. She’d gone back to the market two blocks away and stocked up on supplies to make meals at home with the goal of avoiding takeout, careful to only buy what she couldcarry.
Everything was more expensive, but the higher prices were offset by the fact that she was only buying for herself, and she’d felt like a kid in a candy store as she’d bought all her favorite things. She’d been alone in the Larchmont house during the divorce proceedings — Peter had graciously agreed to take a temporary apartment — but there she’d been trapped in her old habits, buying all the same food she’d bought for her and Peter, half expecting to see him peering over her shoulder, asking if she’d remembered the peanutbutter.
Now she was liberated. She’d bought full fat yogurt and cheese, skipped the bread in favor of veggies and olives, and threw in a few experimental items for goodmeasure.
She’d stopped in at a nearby dry cleaners after spotting an ad in their window for laundry and had been thrilled to find it was cheaper to have them do her wash than to pay in the basement of her building. They’d given her a bag to fill with dirty clothes and told her they’d return it in 24 hours for only fifteen dollars, a bargain as far as she wasconcerned.
She still didn’t have enough furniture, and she was missing some small things like dish towels and a spatula, but she’d planned another trip to Ikea the next day for the remaining essentials and had ended the afternoon feelingaccomplished.
It had lasted until she’d had to get dressed for the reading in the city, at which point she’d realized her outfit choices were more than a little paltry. She’d passed over her two ill-fitting dresses — she hadn’t worn a dress for ages — and defaulted to her tried and true slacks and silk blouse, plus flats for comfortable walking of thecity.
Over the past couple years, she’d been relieved to see a lot of women in the city ditch their heels for comfortable shoes. She’d never understood women like Karen who managed to totter around on stilts, flagging cabs and racing up and down subway station stairs without somehow breaking theirnecks.
Even now, looking around at the people on the subway, it was easy to see that things had gotten more relaxed. She almost laughed out loud when she heard Karen’s voice in her head saying, “Only because you’re coming fromBrooklyn!”
Maybe it was true and she’d be underdressed once she got to the event, but it was too late to change her mind now, and she did feel pretty in the deep green silk blouse that matched her eyes. She’d left her hair down, grateful it was still thick with natural waves, and made a small concession for Karen’s event with a little bit of eye makeup andlipstick.
It was good enough. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone, and Karen had said the reading was from one of her non-fiction authors, a philanthropist who’d recently published a book about his time in Africa. Nina expected the evening to be more intellectual thanglamorous.
She’d been on the train for ten minutes when she pulled out her phone to see where she was on her journey to Midtown. She wondered how long it would be before she didn’t have to check her phone during every leg of her journey, how long before she could navigate the subway system by instinct like everyone aroundher.
Three stops later, she exited at Lexington Avenue and followed the map on her phone to the bookstore that was hosting the event, stopping when she came to a storefront paneled in rich mahogany, brass letters spelling out ARGOSY above thedoor.
Half of the front was an open-air extension of the store, books lining rich wood shelves under cover of a ceiling that looked to be an extension of the one inside. Opposite the books, antique maps were protected behind glass, everything bathed in soft, golden lighting. The effect was elegant and storied, more like a collector’s library in a historical mansion that abookstore.
She looked up, wondering how everything was secured overnight, then saw a rolled up iron gate that must be pulled down when the storeclosed.
Beyond the front window, people milled about inside the store, the murmur of conversation and laughter carried to her as an older man in a tweed jacket stepped onto thesidewalk.
She looked down at her slacks and flats. This wasn’t at all what she’d pictured when Karen told her the event was being held at a bookstore. She should have forced herself to wear a dress, or at the very least, brought a bigger bag to hold someheels.
The door opened again, this time expelling a chicly dressed woman who did nothing for Nina’s confidence. She waited for the woman to step onto the sidewalk before stepping into thestore.
The interior was even more welcoming, the soft overhead lighting further complimented by the glow of old-fashioned library lamps with green shades, each one illuminating old maps and books. It smelled like pipe smoke and old paper, like ink andmoney.
She stopped just inside the door and unbuttoned her coat, using the time to scan the crowd, moving aside as a couple entered the store behind her. The place was packed, and it took her a minute to spot Karen, standing next to an older man in a suit on the mezzanine level that overlooked the mainfloor.
Nina was momentarily entranced, envious of the casual placement of Karen’s hand on the man’s arm, the unselfconscious way she tipped her head back when she laughed. She was wearing a red dress, her hair knotted into a professional but somehow still alluring knot at the back of herhead.
During the last twenty years, the majority of Nina’s socializing had involved chatting up people at the grocery store and playing the good wife on Peter’s arm at work functions. In both cases, there had been no pressure, the only expectation that she be moderately pleasing, or at least acceptable. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly pedestrian and out ofplace.
She didn’t belong here. This was amistake.
She was considering ducking out when Karen spotted her. Her friend’s face lit up, and she leaned in to say something to the man she was talking to before making her way down the stairs. Nina waited by the door as Karen wound her way through the crowd, stopping to talk to people along the way, raising her hand to wiggle fingers at anyone too far away to greetpersonally.
“You made it!” She leaned in to hug Nina. “I’m soglad.”
“I’m not really sure this is my scene,” Nina said. “I’m wayunderdressed.”
Karen looked Nina up and down, taking in the sliver of clothing visible between the flaps of her open coat. “What are you talking about? You lookgreat.”
“Are you sure?” Nina asked. “Maybe I should go homeand— ”
“No way. You’ll feel better once we hit the after-party fordrinks.”
“After-party? I didn’t agree to an after-party.”