Neon lights flashed and electronic billboards loomed overhead, advertising everything from Broadway shows to the latest tech gadgets. The mixture of sounds—honking horns, snippets of conversations, and the distant wail of sirens had Callan covering his ears.
“I fear I will never grow used to all the noise and lights in this time.”
Daisy found a doggy day care through Sam, who had lived in the City for a year before moving to Boston for his significant other. This way Frankie wouldn’t be scared of all the noise as they walked around the city. While she worried he’d be sad to be left, her mutt was already making new friends, tail wagging as she left, sniffling.
There were tourists everywhere in Times Square, and then there was Callan, who couldn’t quite get the hang of staying to the right.
“If you stay on the right, you won’t bump into everyone.” As soon as he tried it, two women not looking where they were going ran into Callan. Before the brunette fell, he caught her, gently setting the woman on her feet.
“Thank you, my you’re strong.” She looked up at him, eyes wide.
“Apologies, mistress.”
“Oooh, he’s Scottish,” her friend said, whipping out a phone and taking a selfie as Callan blinked. The two women admired the picture before going on their way, not paying the least bit of attention as a businessman type jumped out of the way, swearing.
“Look.” Daisy pointed to two men in silver, pretending to be statues on the corner.
As Callan moved closer, one of the statues moved, making him jump back, before he let out a laugh.
“Let’s get out of here. We’ll go to Central Park.”
“Aye, a park would be nice and quiet.” He looked around once more, wincing as an ambulance and police cruiser sped by.
In the calm green of Central Park, they walked the paths, making her wish Frankie was with them.
“Let’s rent a boat and take it out on the lake.”
Soon, they were gliding across the water, the gentle sound of the oars dipping into the water mingling with the laughter and muted conversations of people around them who’d had the same idea. It was the perfect way to escape the heat of the day.
Callan’s strong arms flexed as he rowed, occasionally catching her eye. The way he looked at her made her wonder … he hadn’t tried to kiss her again? Maybe he only wanted to be friends, after all?
As they relaxed, letting the little boat float, Callan told her more of his life, making her sad that he’d lost his mother at such a young age.
When they’d arrived in the city, she’d texted her parents to see how they were doing and if they were in town so they could meet up for dinner, only to receive a breezy reply that they were in Cairo and hopefully would see her at Christmas if they didn’t spend it in Switzerland. Her parents had a condo here in the city they used as home base. While she knew they could spend the night there, Daisy didn’t want to. There was something about their condo that felt like sleeping in a museum where you weren’t allowed to touch anything.
Guess she’d be spending yet another Christmas all alone. Unless Callan decided to stay and then maybe they’d be together, drinking hot cocoa after walking in the snow, sitting in front of a fire, and going for long drives on the weekends.
After the peacefulness of Central Park, they made their way to Battery Park, where they boarded a ferry to Liberty Island. The sight of the Statue of Liberty standing tall against the blue sky always made her throat close up, the feeling of pride in her country even as it struggled and was divided. She wouldn’t live anywhere else.
“She’s magnificent,” Callan said, his voice filled with reverence. “A symbol of freedom, ye say?”
“Yes,” Daisy said. “Lady Liberty represents a new beginning for many who came here with nothing but the clothes on their backs.”
They toured the island, learning about the statue’s history and significance, something Daisy had never done in the times she’d visited her parents. Callan was particularly fascinated by the statue’s construction, marveling at the engineering feats of modern times.
“Wait until you see the Brooklyn Bridge. I’ve always been in awe of the people who build bridges over the water.”
They stopped at a deli, ordering bagels with cream cheese and lox for lunch.
“’Tis delicious.” Callan polished off two bagels while she ate half of hers and slid the other half over to him.
That afternoon, they made their way to the Brooklyn Bridge, its iconic arches illuminated by the setting sun. The bridge’s pedestrian walkway offered stunning views of the Manhattan skyline, now aglow with thousands of lights. They walked hand in hand across the bridge, enjoying the breeze.
Before they picked up Frankie and drove to the campground she’d found online, Daisy decided to take Callan to dinner in Little Italy. She knew it was touristy, but figured he’d love a big meal of pasta. The area had shrunk down over the years to around four blocks instead of the ten her parents used to talk about.
They found a cute restaurant with outdoor seating. The aroma of garlic and fresh tomatoes wafted through the air, making her stomach growl, the bagel long gone.
The house wine was good, as was the bread. Daisy ordered lasagna while Callan went with a pasta dish, knowing she’d only eat half of hers and he’d get the rest.
