Page 37 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

Ethan zipped his pencils away in his backpack and the smiling assistant handed me a branded paper bag containing my notebooks. We walked back to the coffee shop and peered through the window. The table we’d been sitting at moments earlier was no longer free, and it looked like every other table was also occupied.

‘Hmm, where to go…’ Ethan took out his phone and slipped his glasses down from his head to look at his map. ‘There’s a decent brunch spot that isn’t too far away if you’re happy to walk and talk?’

I looked at the time – it was approaching ten a.m., which meant Mum and Anneka would be brushing up against consciousness any moment now.

‘Shit, sorry, is this taking too long?’ he asked, suddenly looking worried.

‘No! Not at all, I just need to check something, hang on.’

Neither Mum nor Flora had told me anything about today’s schedule beyond their intended lie-in, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any plans. In fact, the lack of information probably made it more likely that they had something ludicrous up their sleeves. Perhaps we’d be diving for pearls in the Hudson River?

My device had automatically reconnected to the coffee shop’s Wi-Fi now we were outside it, so I tapped out a quick message to the Bell Belles WhatsApp group.

Flora:

I’m out on a walk. Do I need to be back by a certain time?

I mean, it wasn’t a lie? I was out, and I would soon be walking. I’d just left out the part about the fact that one of my favourite cartoonists – who, yes, did happen to be extremely easy on the eye – was keeping me company. I repocketed my phone, making a mental note to reconnect to Wi-Fi as soon as I could to check for replies.

‘All sorted, let’s go.’

I could feel the temperature plummeting – and the wind picking up – with practically every step as we headed towards what Ethan informed me was the West Village, an exclusive subset of Greenwich Village. So many overlapping urban villages, it was all very confusing. This part of the city felt like a different universe to Midtown, which me, Mum and Anneka had walked through yesterday. Here, there were very few high-rise buildings, with a tree-lined neighbourhood vibe and streets that didn’t neatly follow the gridded system I’d already become so accustomed to. Put simply: you could see the sky around here.

‘Hey, have you ever watched Friends?’ Ethan asked, as we waited at a crossing.

‘I’m a human being; of course I have.’

Ethan gently swivelled me around one-hundred-and-eighty degrees by the shoulders.

‘Recognise this?’ he asked.

I looked up.

‘No fucking way, that’s their apartment building!’ I took a couple of photos, knowing that Mum and Anneka would freak out. Perhaps I could bring them here later, or tomorrow.

A couple of blocks later we rounded a corner and were greeted by the sight of around ten people queuing outside a modest brownstone building on what looked to be a residential street. A long, sheltered outdoor seating area the width of a parked car hugged the kerb. It was full, thanks to the outdoor heaters that bathed the artificial room in a warm, orange radiance. A vintage bicycle bearing the name of the quaint-looking eatery was perched next to it.

‘There’s always a line but it moves quickly. You don’t mind waiting?’ Ethan asked.

‘I mean, a queue must mean it’s good, right? And I can ask you some more speech questions while we wait.’

‘Let’s do it.’

‘So, tell me about the moment Rick told you he was engaged.’

Ethan puffed out a big lungful of air, his breath fogging in the increasingly nippy temperature. ‘He told us at dinner at my parents’ place a couple of Christmases ago.’

‘Nice, do you and Rick always spend Christmas with your parents?’

‘Yeah, we usually do. But… it’s complicated. Can we maybe explore a different angle?’

The queue shuffled forward a few feet after a big party in front of us was ushered into a newly vacated table in the makeshift outdoor seating area, meaning we were already at the front of the line.

‘Yeah, of course. Erm… so how about when he asked you to be best man?’

‘At that same dinner.’ Ethan’s facial muscles contorted slightly, as if he was trying to use them to crumple a memory. What the hell had happened that night? I was so tempted to probe, but the professional part of me knew I should leave this line of questioning well alone.

‘Just the two of you?’ The question from a member of staff saved me from having to think about what else to ask him.