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Randy talked while we drove. He was also fairly new to New York and was excited to share exploring the city with me. “If you’re up for it, it’s something we can do together.”
“Okay, I’m interested.” I hoped he wasn’t a big talker with no action.
The limo pulled up to a huge brownstone building with Riverview carved into the marble lintel over the doorway.
“This is it,” Randy said, looking up. “The apartment I have in mind for you is on the top floor in back, facing the river.”
“I’d love a water view. In our old apartment in Chicago, if I looked to the side of the living room window between a bunch of buildings, I could see Lake Michigan.”
Randy held the door for me while I got out, looking around the neighborhood. It was summer in Manhattan. Lined with huge shade trees, the street looked like something out of a Sex in the City episode. It appeared to be a family neighborhood, too. A pregnant woman jogged by, smiling at me. Across the street, a woman dressed in scrubs, probably a nanny, pushed a twin stroller. I had to force myself to stop staring and look at the apartment.
“Wow, what a beautiful building!”
“Let’s go inside.”
Randy led the way up the granite stoop to the imposing front door, heavily carved mahogany with a small leaded-glass window. There was a bank of brass doorbell buttons off to the right.
“How many units in this place?” I asked.
“Eighteen,” he said, keying in a number. “You’ll be number eighteen.”
He pushed the door open when the lock clicked, and the smell of lemon furniture polish and pine soap wafted out at us. A uniformed man stood at a curved oak reception desk, talking on the phone.
“This is nice,” I said. “I didn’t expect a concierge.”
“Oh, Mr. Braddock, I’m so sorry I didn’t get the door,” the man said, stepping forward. “We had a fire drill this morning, and that was Miss Clark, fuming.”
“That’s fine, Ben. I’m glad I missed the drill. This is my daughter, Laura Long. She’ll be moving into number eighteen. Ben’s the doorman, Laura.”
“Nice to have you, miss,” Ben said, tipping his hat.
He ran to the door to open it for the nanny with the twin stroller, who was on the stoop. Randy went to help get the huge stroller inside. The two toddlers in the stroller were so cute, I felt an unfamiliar emotion rise. What was going on with me? I’d never even noticed babies before. The nanny smiled at me as she pushed by.
I followed Randy to the brass and mahogany elevator doors. There wasn’t room for all of us in the elevator, so we let the nanny take the first one to arrive and waited for the next one. Everything about the building was classy, although I didn’t know that much about what made up classy yet. Just fleeting moments of it with certain wealthy dates back in Chicago.
“What do you think so far?” Randy asked me.
“I’m in a dream,” I said, laughing. “This is nicer than anything I could have imagined.”
“It’s all original, too. I bought it like this, in grand shape. Just a little maintenance was required in some of the units that had had the same tenants for decades. Your unit is completely restored. Ten-foot-high ceilings, too.”
“Oh, wow. I can’t wait.”
The elevator opened on the third floor, and we walked to number eighteen. He pushed the door open, and I had to steady myself not to swoon. The foyer was huge, as big as my current room, with a view straight to the window that overlooked the East River. An unexpected, massive skylight lit up the foyer.
“Go!” Randy said, seeing my surprise, and pointed to the window.
I walked through what I assumed was the living room to the wall of windows overlooking the United Nations to the left and the river. Thinking I was probably going to live there forever, I imagined I’d spend a lot of my future staring at that view.
“Over here is the kitchen,” Randy said. “It’s not open concept. One issue we had was wall removal, but I like it secluded over here. You have the view, too. And a cozy dining space.”
The kitchen was enormous, with all-white traditional cabinets and marble, and gleaming appliances. I could imagine cooking in such a place, even though I didn’t cook.
“Down this hall is the master bedroom.”
I followed him out of the kitchen and down a narrow hallway to a huge room with a newly renovated bathroom. The bedroom had an uninspired view of the apartment next door across a light shaft.
The second bedroom was half the size, on the other side of the apartment. I could imagine an office set up in there. Or even a nursery. Huh? I must be having delusions, because I’d never wanted to have a kid or even thought of such a thing.
