I scrunch my face at him and then turn and take the two steps to get to the edge. I look over.
“So, how’re you feeling?” he asks. He moves to stand next to me, his face turned my way. So close that I can feel his breath on my neck. That’s actually more unnerving than the edge I’m looking over right now.
I clear my throat in an attempt to ground myself. “Well, let’s see,” I say. “We’re about twelve feet up, from what I can guess.” I motion toward the water. “The height doesn’t bother me as much as the water below does. I mean, if I fell from here, chances are I would survive. But, like, what kind of germs are floating in that water?”
“Oh hell, you’re a germophobe too?” he asks, his face full of humor.
“No!” I say quickly. “I’m not a germophobe. That water just looks gross ... like, kinda germy.”
“So being bothered by germs doesn’t make you a germophobe?”
“No, I just don’t—Okay, fine. I’m a bit of a germophobe,” I say, feeling heat crawl up my face.
“Come on phobia girl,” he says, his hand on the small of my back again as he guides me off the bridge. “We’ve got more to see.”
As we walk through Central Park, I feel ... good. Relaxed, even. I’m on solid ground, and it’s a beautiful day. Plus, it’s been a while since I just walked through Central Park, taking in the scene around me, breathing in the scent of fresh-cut grass that seems to be coming from everywhere. Walking with Jay right now, I think I’m seeing it through a new pair of eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything in Manhattan with a first timer. I love seeing how his eyes light up as he takes it all in. The lush green trees and grass, the beautiful park benches that line each side of the path we’re on. The bum sleeping on one of them.
I guess it can’t all be perfect.
“Tell me about Glens Falls,” Jay says as we walk.
“There’s not much to tell,” I say with a shrug. “It’s a small town. Used to be a mill town, but it’s pretty depressed right now. It’s on the way from Albany to Lake Placid, at the foot of Lake George and the Adirondacks. I actually didn’t grow up there. Up until I was thirteen, we lived in Corinth, which is an even smaller town. Actually, it’s barely a town. More like a speck in the middle of nowhere.”
“Why did you move?”
Because my sister was sick. Because the hospital was in Glens Falls and it was safer to live closer, and easier as she got worse. It was all for Elena.
But I don’t tell him that. “That’s where the paper mill is. It was easier for my dad,” is all I say.
“So California,” I say, moving the question back to him.
“Yep,” he says. “Born and raised.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for California.”
“Really? Why’s that?” he asks, looking a little insulted.
“Aren’t most Californians blond and blue eyed? And everyone talks like a surfer?”
“As opposed to everyone from New York having dark hair and dark eyes and talking likeThe Godfather?”
“Right,” I say through a laugh. I’ve got dark hair, but my eyes are blue. And I definitely don’t talk like someone fromThe Godfather. At least I don’t think I do.
The conversation flows easily between us as we walk. We talk about how we got into the work we do. Jay went to school for information technology and got a job right out of college. He soon found that he hated working for other people, so he started his own thing with the help of his stepsister who can “sell anything to anyone.” I actually think Jay’s a pretty decent salesman himself. He convinced me to spend the day with him, after all. I’m still not entirely sure how that happened. But with each passing minute, I’m glad it did.
Jay has a contagious energy. It makes me wish I was more like him. More daring, more interesting. I’ve become sort of a hermit lately. I think I need to change that.
“Are you ready for the next stop?” he asks as we leave the quiet embrace of the park for a busy Manhattan street.
“Sure,” I say, even though I’m not ready to leave. Talking with Jay, experiencing all of this through his eyes, I don’t know if the next stop will have the same feeling or dynamic. Plus, I’m slightly scared of what he might put me through next.
“Let’s go.”
