‘Sorry!Glorita. Your bob looksbeautiful!’
‘That’s not just any old bob, darling, that’s a perfectly trimmed graduated bob with hand-painted babylights. We learned it last week during salon training. I got top marks, of course.’ Anders beams. He’s two months into his hairdressing course and seems to love every minute of it! He’s already asked if he can practise on me when I live with him. Of course I said yes. Except for unicorn horns. I said a firm no to having any kind of horn on my head everagain.
‘Well, it looksbrilliant.’
Mrs Ramirez pats her head proudly. Anders reaches out to stop her. ‘Careful!’
I laugh at these two bonkers ex-strangers, who are now the most unlikeliest of friends. I’m so excited to be back here with them, part of their oddball gang. If it wasn’t for Birdie I never would have met them. The things that woman didforme.
After Birdie’s funeral, and with Alex deciding to head off on his Asian adventure, I made the decision to use my share of the house sale money to come back to Manhattan and enrol into an improv course at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade Theatre. I’ve been doing comedy-writing classes in Manchester for the last four months and the absolute heart-lifting, joyful feeling I got from it made the decision to take this bigger, scarier step mucheasier.
When I called Anders to tell him I was coming for a whole year, he insisted I stay with him. He’s already taken Mrs Ramirez in. The two of them have become firm friends in the last year and when her studio apartment building announced that they were selling up in order to get rid of the rent-controlled tenants, it was a given that she would live with Anders in his big old house. They’re an odd pair. They bicker a lot, they’re completely different, but they love each other fiercely and in a city so big, they’re each other’s family. That I introduced them to each other will forever be one of the best accomplishments ofmylife.
In the snowy cab to Gramercy, the three of us catch up, although to be honest, with the daily texting and FaceTime sessions we’re pretty much up to date on eachother’snews.
‘Ah, turn this one up, please!’ Mrs Ramirez yells at the cab driver. ‘It is myfavourite!’
The driver does as requested, and Andy Williams’Most Wonderful Time of The Yearrings out aroundthecar.
Anders turns to me from his seat in the front and rolls his eyes. But I can tell he loves it just as much asIdo.
As the Manhattan skyline comes into view, my eyes brim with tears. I knew I missed it here. I knew it as soon as I got on the plane back. But seeing the magnificent buildings in the sky ahead of me, all of the new possibilities the city holds, a million experiences goodandbad that I’m going to have, experiences I never would have had the guts to go for without my dear Birdie,overwhelmsme.
‘What’s the matter?’ Anders asks, his head cocked to the side. ‘Are youcrying? Is it the saccharinemusic?’
‘Ay, she’s happy, silly,’ Mrs Ramirez says, handing me an embroidered handkerchief to dry my tears and then grabbing my hand between hers. ‘She’s just glad to bebackhome.’
I swallow hard and nod. She’s absolutelyright.
* * *
The houseat Gramercy is lovely and warm when we get in. The fires have been lit, the smell of mulled wine wafts through from the kitchen and in the hall is a huge pine Christmas tree twinkling with hundreds of minusculelights.
‘All of your belongings are up in your room,’ Anders says as he takes my coat. I pull my bobble hat off and he grimaces at my hair. ‘Those ends! Don’t worry, you’re in safehandsnow.’
I laugh as Mrs Ramirez hands me a glass of mulled wine and we all stand there in the hallway by the tree, thrilled to be seeing each other again, happy as heck that we’re about to be the weirdest most mismatched group of roommates anyoneeversaw.
‘We got you a surprise!’ Mrs Ramirez says, her eyes flicking secretively up to Anders who gives alittlenod.
‘A Christmas surprise,’headds.
I press a hand to my chest. ‘Lucky me! Well, what is it? Don’t leave a girlhanging!’
Anders takes one of my arms and Mrs Ramirez takes the other. The pair of them lead me into Anders’ grand, ostentatiouslivingroom.
Holyshit.
There, standing in front of the crackling fire, looking gorgeous and ridiculous in equal measure,isSeth.
I stare at him, taking in every inch of the face I’ve been trying not to picture in my head every night for the last eightmonths.
After I came back to Manchester, Seth and I kept up with a few polite ‘how are things going?’ texts, which pretty quickly petered out. For me, it hurt too much to think of him, of the fact that I would never see him again, that I had developed real feelings for what could only ever be a ‘fling’. Plus, the fact that he clearly wasn’t as into it as I was, having sent me packing the day after we slept together, kept mewellaway.
Not to mention that all of my heart was taken up with Birdie. I didn’t want anyone else to steal even a tiny bit of that space. She was my priority. But that didn’t mean I didn’t sneakily watch Seth’s show each week, under the covers in my bed. Smiling proudly as he went from strength to strength, being named one of the year’s rising comedy stars. I imagined calling him at that point. Just to offer my congratulations. Whereupon he would declare that he couldn’t stop thinking about me and was going to fly to Manchester, just so he could kiss meagain.
And then, when I saw a picture of Seth on a US gossip site, kissing one of the otherSunday Night Livecast members in Central Park, I quietly deleted his number from my phone and tried my hardest to not let it hurt. I didn’t have roomforthat.
Now he’s here. Wearing… a Christmas jumper? And a set ofantlers?
