“Yep, even after all those years, he still loved her. Another five years passed—that’s around the time they started allowing people to buy plaques for the benches here. The money you pay for the bench goes to preserving the park. At the time, the park had seen better days and there were signs all over asking people to donate money or to volunteer to help clean it up. The bar was doing exceptionally well; it became a hotspot for the locals. So, Christopher decided to buy a bench. He spent a long time wondering what to write on the plaque. Then it seemed most natural to write about Nancy. After all, she still consumed his mind after all those years.”
Ashley held onto Megan’s hand, slowly caressing the edge of her thumb. “That’sincredible.”
“Fast forward to 1993 and guess who turns upat his bar?”
“I really hope it’s Nancy, otherwise this story is going to really disappoint me.”
“Of course, it’s Nancy. She comes to New York on vacation with her oldest daughter, who was twenty-eight at the time. They stumble across a bar in Midtown that just happens to be named after her, so she feels obliged to go inside and have a drink. She sits down at the bar and Christopher walks out. Their eyes meet and all of sudden, it makes sense—she drops the glass in her hand, obviously in utter shock. They talk for a while, Christopher invites her out to dinner, her daughter insists she should catch up with her old friend. They spent the next three days together; her daughter had friends in New York so she was occupied. They couldn’t believe how easy it was. Even after thirty-five years, they still had a connection that was undeniable. Nancy was still married, being born into a family of devout Catholics meant the divorce rate was 0%. She was married to a nice man; they had built a nice life together and she would never regret the two children he gave her, but there’d always been something missing. The more time she spent with Christopher, the more she realisedhewas thatsomething.”
Ashley looked directly into the piercing green eyes that had consumed her afternoon, “I swear, if this story doesn’t end the way I hope it does, I will never allow you to tell me a story again.”
Megan laughed, the small creases in her nose adorable—Ashley found it difficult to look away. The manner in which she told the story with such conviction made Ashley feel as though she had been a part of it. The sentimentality of the story was yet to be revealed, but shewas hooked.
“Nancy had no choice but to go back to her life; she wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t help but feel selfish at the prospect of leaving her family behind at fifty-three to be with someone she hadn’t known properly for over thirty years. Two more years passed and Christopher had lost hope. It wasn’t until the Christmas of 1995 that everything fell into place. She turned up at his bar once again, this time with a suitcase in her hand. Presumptuous, but of course he welcomed her with open arms. It was as if no time had passed. Their hair had gone grey and their bodies had become weaker, but what remained was the love they shared for each other. Despite thirty-seven long years, that never faded. Christopher had always hoped that one day she would find her way back to him. He didn’t show her the bench until six months later and she couldn’t believe it. A lot of people would see it as a waste, all those years apart, but they just saw the blessing that brought them back together.”
“So, they ended up together? Where are they now?” Ashley eagerly awaited Megan’s response.
“They still live here in New York City. Nancy’s children are all grown up. Her son moved away and her daughter stayed here in New York, but Christopher and Nancy started their own life together. They got married two years later. They travelled the world, neither of them had ever left America, so they wanted to experience something new together. I guess you could say they now live happilyever after.”
Ashley had a tear in her eye. “How old are they?”
“Christopher is 76 and Nancy is 75.”
“How do you even know this story? You tell it as though youknow them.”
“I do know them. Nancy is my grandma,” Megan revealed.
Ashley’s eyes widened. “Your grandma?”
“What a story, right?”
“It’s an incredible story.” Ashley paused and readjusted her place on the bench. “I guess I’m just a bit confused as to why you told me?”
“You told me the other day that if you were to become a writer for a magazine that you would want to write stories that mean something, real-life stories that will give people hope or something to believe in. There’s your first story. I asked my grandma’s permission to share it with you. If you want to write it, then the story is there for you to write. That was the watered-down version. When you meet my grandma, she will explain it all.”
“When I meet your grandma?”
“Sure, this was part one of the date.”
“What’s part two?”
Megan grinned, “We goto Nancy’s.”
***
On the corner of Lexington Avenue and East 27thStreet was Nancy’s. Christopher had originally opened it as a sports bar, but once Nancy arrived in 1995, she had another vision—it soon became a cocktail bar. Not wanting to lose the original custom, they agreed to keep the sports bar title, but made it a more sophisticated atmosphere. The outside was black with a gold sign, polished to perfection. Upon entering, Ashley was immediately drawn to wooden panelling on the wall—it was unique, accompanied by large, flamboyant paintings, each with its own unique, colourful design. Along one wall sat a long olive-green sofa, with circular brown tables and accompanying brown leather chairs. Across the other wall were more intimate two-seater tables, with navy blue tub chairs. The bar felt contemporary—recently updated, it would seem—and everything was immaculate. Behind the bar area housed several large-screen TVs, with tall leather bar stools; that was the place to sit and watch sports whilst the rest of the bar enjoyed cocktails. It had been set up in such a way to please all customers; Ashleyliked that.
“This placeis amazing.”
“It’s perfect, isn’t it? They recently had it re-decorated, my aunt Julie helped them modernise it.”
“I just love the whole atmosphere. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”
“It is now, before it was a little outdated and very much an old-fashioned bar that wouldn’t attract the younger generation, but since the revamp, that seems to have changed.”
“I bet.”
Megan placed the palm of her hand on Ashley’s back and edged her towards two stools at the end of the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”
