Whenever I visited New York, even at ten o’clock in the morning, there are people in suits walking the streets and filling up coffee shops. Instead, there are a lot of yoga pants and crop tops, sweatpants and sunglasses. Strangely, I look less out of place here in my sandals and flowy dress than I would in Manhattan.
“Morning,” the girl at the cash register greets me. “What can I get you?” She has the loveliest shade of green in her hair and perfectly straight teeth.
“Um, I’ll get a soy cappuccino, please, and a regular coffee.”
“Sure. What size?”
“A medium cup for the cappuccino, and a large one for the regular coffee.”
“So, one tiki, and one tapa. Anything else?”
“Tiki?”
“Yeah, that’s what we call our medium size here. Anything else?”
“Oh. Um, can I get two egg sandwiches?”
“Egg whites only?”
“No, the yolk is fine.”
She frowns and shrugs her shoulders. “Two dirty birds, then. Anything else?”
I don’t question the name, in case she’s the one preparing the sandwiches. “No, that’s everything.”
“That’ll be $42.50.”
“For two coffees and two sandwiches?”
“Yes. It’s Monday, so you got a ten percent discount.”
I’m not about to tell her that I think it’s too expensive and not the other way around, so I tap my credit card and smile.
“Next.”
I shuffle to the side and wait for my order. Some girls beside me chat about their yoga class. “He’s so hot, right? I mess up every pose, so he has to correct me.”
The girls laugh in unison, and I suppress the incredible urge to tell them that they could be putting their bodies at risk by intentionally posing incorrectly, but I mind my own business as Jane has warned me to do countless times.
“Tiki cappuccino, tapa coffee and,” she pauses with a strange look on her face, “two dirty birds?”
“Yeah, that’s mine,” I say, raising my hand.
She shakes her head. “Here you go.”
“Um… thanks.”
I walk the rest of the way to Casey’s apartment, stopping to give change to the homeless man on the street corner, and he nods his thanks.
When I arrive at Casey’s building, I groan when I see the same security guard in front of the desk. Wasn’t he here late last night? Does the man work all hours of the day?
“Good morning! I’m here to see Casey.” I hold up the bags. “I’ve brought him breakfast.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Mr. Tucker has left no note to let you in.”
“You’re not letting me in. I’m just dropping off breakfast, then I’ll leave.”
He hears the hesitation in my voice. I’ve always been a terrible liar.
