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Chapter 16
CROSS
“She’s a lovely lass, my friend,” Shane said, lifting a beer bottle to his lips.
“Awesome. I’m seeing her this weekend. I feel like I might be ready to get out there again after losing Mary.”
Shane nodded. “Sure, buddy. It’s been a long journey.”
Joey shifted in my arms. He’d fallen asleep there after dinner, and I didn’t want to wake him. His nanny was usually around to help me put him to bed, but she had had a family thing that night. Which was fine with me. And Shane was always happy to come over for free beer and to see my little guy who called him Shay. A two-year-old was going to do what a two-year-old did, and that included talking like one.
When I was finally convinced my little man was down for the count, I carefully carried him to his crib. Shane followed me, happy to participate in the bedtime ritual since he’d come from a family of seven kids. He’d have his own someday and would be an awesome dad.
“How was your game the other day?” I asked when we’d settled back in my living room.
“Ah, the little ones are terrible, but they are so darn funny. And sweet. You should see them.”
“I’d love to come sometime.” Actually, I wished I had time for a volunteer activity like Shane’s. But with the kid, and working as much as I could…
“I had Kealy down at the Community Center. Showed her some basketball moves…and other things.” He looked down at his hands and smiled.
We guys were close, but we didn’t kiss and tell. At least, not much.
“I like her, Cross, I do. We were having so much fun, we lost track of time. I got us the hell out of there before it got too late.”
“Still don’t feel safe down there, do you?” I asked.
His hand absentmindedly wandered up to his chest, and he shrugged. “I hate to say it because I love my volunteering, but ever since I was jumped, I don’t stay in the neighborhood much past dark.”
“You all healed up where they got you?” I asked.
He rubbed the spot where he’d been stabbed during the mugging. Poor guy, it clearly still haunted him. “Well, you’ve seen the scar. Can’t model topless anymore,” he said with a smirk.
“Unless they want someone really badass looking.”
“Yeah, I was already badass looking enough without a huge scar on my chest.”
I shook my head. “Hey. Everyone loves a badass Irishman.”
“Well, I hope the lovely Kealy loves—or at least likes—this badass Irishman. Because I sure have taken a liking to her.”
* * *
The week crawled by in spite of my non-stop schedule of running from modeling gig to Joey, and back. It was busy season for photo shoots, and my agent had me lined up for every catalogue and print ad she could get me in. I was obsessive about putting a chunk of money aside for Joey, and this allowed me the comfort of doing that. It was the least I could do—this little guy had already lost his mom, a beautiful, amazing woman whom I’d miss until my dying days. As long as I could do the jobs with minimal time away from my kid, it was all good. And his nanny loved him almost as much as I did.
So every spare moment when wasn’t busy, I found my thoughts wandering to Kealy. I’d not been interested in anyone in a long time, but something about her plucky ambition and hot as hell good looks kept her in the forefront of my mind. And it was perfect that the other guys felt the same way. Something about it felt alive, and I hadn’t dated a women along with the other guys since long before I’d gotten married.
I headed out to meet her Saturday afternoon, as soon as the nanny arrived to look after Joey. We’d decided to keep things mellow with a long stroll around the city, and then a simple dinner at her favorite Italian joint. She’d seemed pretty psyched about our getting together, so I was excited to see if the chemistry would be there.
“Hey,” I said when I found her at our meeting place—a bench in Washington Square park.
She looked up from her book and smiled. Fuck, if she wasn’t gorgeous. Her messy blonde hair and cross-body bag lent a tomboyish air to her, but her perfect hourglass proportions and graceful movement were about as feminine as a woman could get. It was the perfect combination.
And I liked unique women. My wife had been one.
Kealy popped up from her seat, tucking her book into her bag.
“Great to see you.” She threw her arms around me in a warm, friendly embrace. I took a deep inhale, smelling plain soap and a slight bit of rose perfume. We started strolling.
I loved the city, and never tired of walking everywhere I could, usually dragging Joey along with me in his stroller or on my shoulders. I took it as a good sign that Kealy liked walking, too.
“They’ve really cleaned up this area,” I said as we headed toward the Lower East Side.
“Yeah? I don’t know this part of town very well. It’s cool. This is where a lot of immigrants started out when they first came to the United States, right?”
“Exactly. People came here from all over Europe, trying to make it in the new world.”
We turned down a little alley that was probably a rough and tumble tenement row back in the day. But now, with gentrification, it was about as charming as it could be with pots of geraniums hanging from every windowsill and a pretty bench in front of each house.
“Funny how this area is so desirable now, when it was probably full of dirt poor people without plumbing or proper heat in the winter,” Kealy said.
I loved that she wasn’t ignorant of the city’s history.
