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“Where are we going?”
Ian’s heart leaped at her expression when he told her that he wanted to hit the bookstore first. How strange this relationship between them was. He’d never enjoyed reading anywhere near as much as Hazel did. Of course, she was a quick and efficient researcher, but more than that, Ian realized that Hazel just liked to know things. She appreciated a story woven through a book more than she appreciated movies and television. Though if stuck with Ian curled around her and Netflix in front of them, she’d pick the latter.
Once they arrived at the bookstore, he watched her as she scoured through different sections. History, of course, literature, and oddly poetry. He hadn’t known she liked poetry. That seemed such an abstract interest for someone so obsessed with the material reality of their world. Then, she checked out the Young Adult section and learned that his justice-minded Hazel had a fondness for fantasy. It was strange and absolutely precious and, of course, she’d read everything they had to offer, but when pressed, she detailed the strengths and benefits of each series, if he pointed to them.
As they left, with Ian carrying a heavy bag of book purchases, he draped his arm around her shoulders possessively so the sidewalk traffic couldn’t part them.
“Have you ever considered being a librarian?”
“I did, once, but I don’t know if I want my hobby to be my job,” Hazel admitted. “Sometimes when you do something professionally, you stop enjoying it.”
“That is true.”
Ian still thought Hazel would be happier if left to research for the rest of her life, but he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he called the car to pick them up, and they and their books got in for their next stop. He would take her to some more upscale places before they returned home, but Ian enjoyed having Hazel on his arm as they entered Jules Bistro and the syncopated notes reached them. Jazz played live nightly. They took a seat, and Ian rubbed her fingers with his own.
She grinned, taking everything in. He fed her avocado toast, sautéed Brussels sprouts, and mushroom risotto as he filled up on her smiles and laughs, and that rosy glow to her cheeks when she was truly happy and free from her responsibilities. He’d taken on a young woman who felt the burden of the world, and all he wanted to do was find out how best to spoil her.
“What’s next?” Hazel asked as they exited the restaurant.
“Oh, you still have energy?” Ian checked his watch.
“Well, we can go back to the hotel room, if it’s past your bedtime,” Hazel teased. “Old man.”
“Pardon? Old man?” Ian clicked his tongue. “I think I can show you a bit of excitement. Not too loud, though, for our delicate flower.”
“Oh, I am delicate. I’m an orchid.”
“Ah, yes. Of course, you are. How did I not see it before?”
The idea struck Ian then. He grabbed her hand and tugged her to hurry back to the car. The place was closed, of course, but he could guarantee with enough grease in the right palms, this could definitely happen.
“Are you afraid of heights?” he asked.
Twenty minutes later, Ian was leading Hazel up a long, crazy corkscrew of a staircase as she stared up with saucers for eyes. He hadn’t been here himself, actually. He never would have wanted to come during the day, and the only person he’d ever known who might have wanted to go was his mum, who had gone with her sister during a visit to the States.
“I didn’t think you were one for kitsch,” Hazel said, looking a bit anxiously down at her feet every so often. Ian would never let her fall, but her nervousness was cute.
“I’d like to think it’s patriotism.”
Hazel snorted. Her stamina seemed good, though she’d just eaten, and that boded well for their evening. They climbed the stairs for what seemed like an endless time. Finally, they reached the top, and Hazel’s laugh emerged from her like a wind chime, airy and free.
“It’s so small in here.”
“We are inside her head.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be good for Liberty to get a big head—can’t serve the tired masses that way,” Hazel joked.
Ian went to the opening in the Statue of Liberty’s crown and stuck his head out. Before them, he could see the waves of the ocean, dark but occasionally catching the flecks of light from the statue. He saw buildings on the far side of the water, as well, lit up against the night. Hazel came up beside him to poke her head out as well.
“Lovely, isn’t it?”
“It’s impressive. I don’t know if it’s lovely.”
Ian groaned. “Just enjoy your life for once!”
