“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, are you kidding? Thankyou!” she said, lifting herself out of her chair and coming around the side of the desk to hug me again. “This is the best day I’ve had since she told me the prognosis. The best day I’ve had in a very long time.”
Sam and I left Wendy to read the rest of the book (“I’ll be in touch so soon! I’m a very fast reader!”), and I opened the envelope on the sidewalk outside. Sam pretended to be very interested in a map of the subway that someone had discarded on the sidewalk, allowing me some privacy that I very much appreciated.
Lottie,
I love that you always loved New York as much as I do. It is a place unlike any other. I have been to many cities in my lifetime, and I have loved all of them for different reasons. But New York—well, it has an energy and a history that buzz together and sweep you up and move you along at a breakneck pace, just excited to be alive and among its streets. And we share a little secret, New York and I, one that I’m slowly preparing myself to share with you.
And there is always something new to explore. Here is something we never did together: the Freedom Tower. It is just a short walk from Wendy’s office. Go to the top, Lottie. Sometimes it helps to see thingsfrom a different perspective. (My apologies if you’re already back in Connecticut, but I imagine you’re barely out of Wendy’s office. I hope she’s well. I hope you liked the book.)
Love, H.
Another mention of a secret.
(Was this the point of the letters, Aunt Helen? A big reveal?)
I told Sam where we were going. He was excited—he walked a few steps ahead of me, leading the way to the building’s entrance, but I hung back a little. I didn’t love heights to begin with, and this building stretched too high into the sky, twisting and reaching into the clouds.
Falling off a building—providing it is a very high building—is sure to result in death. The downsides are: very messy, a fair amount of time to consider your imminent landing, and the danger of taking someone else with you, just minding their business on the sidewalk below.
“We’ll stay away from the edge,” Sam said, taking my hand for just a brief second before we pushed through the revolving doors and into the lobby. “They have barriers anyway,” he continued as we waited in line to purchase our elevator tickets.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I don’t even care.”
“Right. So you’ve turned completely pale because... you’re scared of elevators?”
I actually didn’t love elevators either, but I could deal with them. Elevator crashes were rare, but they posed the same risks as falling off a building: if it were a short enough trip, it would hurt a lot.
“I’m not scared of elevators,” I muttered.
“Are you scared of ticket lines?”
“I’m not scared of anything,” I said as we reached the window. We paid for our tickets and then took our place in the elevator line.
“That’s impressive. I’m scared of plenty of things.”
“Like what?”
“Like mustard. I really don’t like mustard.”
“You just ate mustard. With your pretzel.”
“Oh, right. Well—I think the best way to get over your fears is to confront them.”
“Ah, is that it?”
“Okay. I’ll tell you something I’m really afraid of if you tell me something you’re afraid of,” he said, turning to face me.
“I’ll tell you at the top.” It would give me enough time to work up the nerve.
We reached the front of the line and stepped into the elevator with a small group of other people. I started counting when the doors clicked shut; I didn’t get to forty before we reached the top.
“These are the fastest elevators in the Western Hemisphere,” I heard a dad tell his kids, who looked thoroughlyunimpressed with their dad’s elevator trivia. “We just traveled two thousand feet a minute!”
“Planes go faster,” his son said, shrugging.
“Do cars go faster? Cars probably go faster,” his daughter added.
