Page 35 of Pining for You

I also don’t mention that I’ve run into a few less magical moments too.

“Has this changed your vision at all, Director Bosley?” Cash asks, holding up an imaginary mic while Izaac films me.

“First of all, Director is not an honorific. But yes, I would say it is playing a strong role in shaping the narrative. The city is almost a character in itself.”

“Oh, good answer! Save that one for the pressers,” Izaac says, and I let that compliment soak in.

“I was thinking about this on our ride in,” Diya says. “And my favorite docs are the ones that start out with questions.” She tilts her head to the side, as if scanning her mental catalog of titles. “Would you say you have any you’re setting out to answer?”

“Yeah, good point,” Izaac says. “Like where does faith in Christmas magic come from? And what makes people lose it?”

“Or why does this magic only happen at Christmastime?” Diya adds.

“Also! Why do lawn inflatables bring people so much joy?” Cash adds, before tapping his chin and answering himself. “Though I guess that may be self-explanatory.”

“If you’re really going to write about this, you can explain that the movies you plan to make someday will be informed by the answers to these fundamental questions,” Izaac says.

“Oh, you’re good,” I reply, tapping my temple. “Taking mental notes.”

“I know, Bosley. I’ve been telling you!”

“I do have one more, but it’s a bit personal,” Diya says. “Are you worried that reality might be, like, creatively limiting, though? Maybe even kind of depressing? What if you can’t find what you need to prove all this? Or what if you’re disappointed, and end up losing your own faith in the process?”

“Mm, yeah, you’re so used to controlling the narrative,” Izaac says. “But with this… it’s really a crapshoot. People aren’t always reliable.”

I don’t admit to either of them that I’ve already seen some things that have tested me on that front since we arrived. But I return to Eve and the way she described people as fascinating. I have felt that at times in Ripton, but I’ve never been exposed to this many varieties of capital-H human before. Surrounded by Brooklynites, it’s like I’m a Christmas tree newly sprung from its netting—like I could reach out and grow in so many new directions.

“I’m confident,” I say. And for the first time in a while, I feel like that’s true.

“Bennie Bosley, consummate optimist,” Diya says.

“Always the romantic,” Cash adds.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking that maybe I’m a humanist…,” I say.

“Well,” Izaac says, rubbing his chin. “As your head of marketing, I’ll ask that you keep me up to speed on how you identify, but for now, we need to get this plot moving.”

Diya checks the time and nods fervently.

“So, it’s 12:32,” he continues. “The bakery reopens at three, then closes at five, which gives us a window of two hours for you to see your girl. The weather is obviously the wild card. Diya, status check?”

Cash turns to her and holds out an imaginary microphone.

“Predictions are still showing rain around three p.m., but the changeover to snow later is a little less clear. Some reports are now saying sevenish, others still around eight or nine,” she answers, eyes trained on her radar app.

I sigh. “Now, the forecast—that’s what’s really unreliable.”

“Either way, that should give us plenty of time for Bennie to close the deal and still get back to the motherland before the city becomes a snow globe,” Izaac says confidently.

I, on the other hand, am deeply unsettled. The phrase close the deal makes my stomach lurch again. If everything goes according to plan, the goal is for me to kiss this girl. How is it possible to want something so badly even as the very idea of it scares you half to death?

“That gives us a few hours to do a little gallivanting,” Izaac says, and I snatch onto the distraction.

“Ohhh, gallivanting’s my favorite,” Cash quips.

“What does one even do in Brooklyn?” Diya asks, ignoring us and slurping her Mother Earth.

I train the camera on what’s happening around us to answer her question. In Brooklyn, it seems to me like one lives. Out loud. Even if we did nothing else for the whole day but sit here and look around, capturing glimpses of the lives swirling all around us, I’d be happy.