Drake woke early to turn the car into the nearest rental service station with Kyle. The look on the manager’s face when he saw the gashes on the driver’s side from the other night’s accident made Drake’s life flash before his eyes. Not only was he definitely not getting the deposit back, but the rental company would probably dry him of his life’s savings, too.
But at least they took the thing.
On the walk back to Kyle’s apartment, Drake called his brother and gave him a very, very brief spark-noted version of the story he told Kyle: messed up flights because of the storm, phone broke, had to road trip. Throughout the rehearsed speech, Mark kept trying to get word after word after word in. On his end, the entire story sounded totally fabricated. It was all just another one of Drake’s sad attempts to avoid the family for as long as humanly possible.
On the other end of the line, Drake heard his brother say, “I was almost ready to tell Mom you weren’t gonna make it. I’d’ve cancelled dinner altogether if you couldn’t make it.”
“It’d probably make mom’s nurse happy if you did. Janet could spend Thanksgiving with her own family for once.”
“Janet stopped-” Mark cut himself short. The two words were enough to remind Drake that the on-call nurse retired two years prior. He didn’t even know the name of his mother’s new nurse. Or where his mother was staying, for that matter. Mark’s voice picked up again, this time less strained, but only slightly. “Just let me know when you’re close. And stay warm, man.”
Drake hung up as he and Kyle returned to the front door of his apartment building. Lulu sat on a couch by a hearth, looking up at a painting of an old, red brick hotel hanging on the opposite wall. She had her backpack slung over one shoulder, and Drake’s duffle at her side. At the moment Drake’s foot crossed the threshold of the apartment building, Lulu’s attention was stolen away from the painting, and she jumped to her feet.
“You ready to go?” she asked.
“As much as I can be. You get a hold of your friend?”
Lulu shrugged. “I tried calling Marsha, but got nothing. But it’s fine. It’s still early. She or Faye were probably just out last night.”
“You’ll be alright though, right? I mean, if anything-”
“I’ll be okay. I told her I’d be here today. She’s expecting me.” With a soft laugh, she added, “Don’t start worrying about me now. It’s not like I’ll freeze out there.”
“It’s pretty cold. This isn’t Miami.”
Lulu pursed her lips and gently patted his cheek, having to be on her tiptoes to do it. “I know how to take care of myself. But I appreciate you looking out.”
“If you need a place to stay… just in case.”
Both Drake and Lulu were pulled from each other's gaze to see Kyle standing hopefully off to the side with a grin. For good measure, he threw in weakly, “You’ve already got my address and room number… if you want to stop by.”
While Drake made a face and held a posture as if he were ready to put Kyle in his place, Lulu jumped toward him, throwing her arms around Kyle. “Thank you so much for helping us out. It really means the world to me.”
Kyle slowly hugged her back when Drake didn’t look like he was going to kill him anymore. A small chuckle escaped him, and he said, “Like I said, anytime.”
They weren’t running out of time to get into the city, or risking tardiness for any particular train, but Drake put his hand on Lulu’s waist and gently pulled. “We should get going,” he told her.
Lulu and Kyle detached from their embrace. “See ya in my DMs, Kyle!” she called as she and Drake speed-walked to the door, turning Kyle’s cheeks a beat red.
Out on the street, Drake asked, “You know he’s a subscriber?”
Lulu laughed. “Obviously. Did you see the way he was looking at me last night? Besides, I don’t have many. And some of them send pics hoping to ‘take me away from all this.’ It’s a little weird, but harmless. I clocked his room immediately.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Drake groaned. “I’m so sorry. Look, I tried-”
“Don’t be sorry. It all worked out, right? Usually I’d charge to meet up with a fan, but this felt like a fair trade.”
“Really? I thought, like you said about your friend…”
“I’m kidding!” Lulu said, hitting his chest as they came up on a crosswalk. “Where are we going now?”
They crossed the street, drawing closer to the Hudson River and Manhattan. It was only a short walk from Kyle’s apartment complex to Newport Station. When they arrived, they checked the times for the train and mapped out their next steps.
Their final steps.
“I’ve gotta get down to the Lower East Side,” Lulu said, pointing to the southward World Trade Center Path.
“I’m uptown,” Drake said, the words feeling like a guilty admission as he pointed to the northward 33rd Street path.
“I guess, then…”
This was it?
Lulu held out her hand for a friendly parting shake.
“I mean,” Drake began, speaking at a nearly imperceptible volume. “Way things have been going, whenever we separate, neither of us gets anywhere.”
Her hand drifted down to her side. Drake’s began to rise in the direction of her waist.
“That’s true,” she said. “With our luck, the trains will break down once we get on them.” She quickly added. “If we get on separate lines.”
Lulu found herself drifting closer to him.
“That’s true,” he agreed. “Why don’t I just come with you to the Lower East Side? Just to make sure you get there in one piece.”
Drake’s hand found her side. His fingers tightened around the jean jacket, softened by his hoodie underneath.
“I think that’d be best.”
Her chin tilted up. Her lips ready to meet his.
“For everyone.”
He leaned in just as the bell rang for the departing train. It rang loud enough to rattle them to their senses.
No, that’s a lie.
It rattled them out of their senses. The ringing created a brief folie à deux, and in their delusion, they thought the smart, reasonable thing to do was to run to the train before it left. But, in truth, it was delusion. Because I can tell you, truthfully, what would have happened if the bell didn’t ring in that moment. It would have been a happy ending then and there.
Unfortunately, the bell did ring. And they did rush for the train. And although they sat together on the train, holding each other's hands, when they arrived at Delancy Street and disembarked together, that was that. The moment was lost. There was no goodbye kiss. There was only a hug, and a few final words that amounted to what they both knew as empty platitudes while they were saying them.
“We’re still on for that date in Miami, right?”
“Of course. Just let me know as soon as you get back down.”
“I will. I promise.”
“You’d better not break it.”
“Cross my heart. Just come back, okay?”
“I’ll see you again. I promise.”
“You’d better not break it.”
Drake stood at the base of the subway stairs watching Lulu go. When she was out of sight, Drake turned, then turned again, then one more time, searching for where to go.
* * *
Lulu walked alone.
She walked through the snow. And the wind. She exhaled through her nose and watched the fogging air around her face swell and disperse.
Snowbanks narrowed the sidewalk into only about two feet of a narrow, icy path. People, she was quickly learning, were the same whether in New York or Miami. No one else was showing courtesy by moving around her or waiting to pass, so she would concede and walk through the banks, soaking her shoes and socks, to avoid being in someone else’s way. Circulation to her toes was quickly restricted, and more and more of her feet were beginning to lose theirs, too.
But Marsha’s apartment was within sight. At least, Lulu hoped that was Marsha’s apartment.
She’d seen the three-story building only in photos and video calls. Marsha’s car wasn’t in front of the building when Lulu finally arrived, but that didn’t mean a thing one way or the other. Maybe there just wasn’t parking available when Marsha last parked.
Lulu rang the buzzer at the front door. She hopped on her frozen toes to keep her blood flowing. “Marsha!” she called into the receiver. “I made it! It’s Lulu! I’m here! Can you let me in?”
No answer came. The only sound in Lulu’s ear was another harsh wind tearing down the street and across her exposed legs.
Lulu pressed the buzzer again, holding it down to speak into the receiver. “I know I’m late. I’m sorry. But it’s really cold out here! Could you please let me in?”
Still nothing.
Lulu cursed under her breath and pulled out her phone. The touch screen barely recognized her fingers with so little blood in the tips to keep them warm enough. After a moment of holding her phone up as high as she could to the second floor where Marsha was hopefully waiting, playing a game meant to teach Lulu better discipline, a wi-fi name appeared in her settings: MarshaHouse. It was the same password as her router in Miami and thankfully connected. Lulu didn’t wait to make a phone call, but just like the buzzer, Marsha didn’t answer.
Lulu cursed again. She then pressed the buzzer for the first-floor apartment.
This time there was a voice responding.
“Yeah?” A female voice cut through the wind with a hint of annoyance.
Lulu almost fell forward, leaning in to make sure she was heard. “Hi! I’m here for Marsha, but she’s not answering. Can you please let me in?”
The woman replied, “I don’t have her key. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay! I’ll just wait on the stairs!”
“I really can’t help. I can’t just let anyone in.”
“Please!” Lulu fought not to sound desperate. “Marsha knows I’m coming. Please, it’s so cold out here. I have nowhere else to go.”
She pressed her body into the doorway for whatever protection the frame could give her from the wind and snow. Once more, she asked, “Please?” and the door unlocked.
Lulu threw herself inside and slammed the door shut behind her, the indoor heating hitting her like an oven, and she crashed on the stairs.
“Thank you!” she called, receiving no response.
For some time, Lulu didn’t get up from the bottom steps of the stairs. She lay in a position halfway between splayed and fetal, letting the warm air cover her body. Eventually, she tried calling Marsha again. Still nothing.
Lulu waited five more minutes, called again, and again received Marsha’s voicemail.
Refusing to admit defeat, Lulu climbed to her feet and stumbled up the steps toward Marsha’s apartment, with the goal that she’d only try calling again once she was at the top if there wasn’t a key hidden by the door.
Each step was knives stabbing into her frozen feet, followed by aching in her glass legs. Pressure built in joints that felt ten years older than they were. The wear and tear of a Miami Beach girl sleeping in a car in the winter north country over the last few days was deciding to cash in all at once.
Somehow, the city that never slept was silent. The glorious arrival in New York City that she had hoped for was missing. There was no welcoming party and no cheers. The city of eight and a half million people was empty when she arrived at Marsha’s door. The only inhabitant was a girl, half frozen to death, curled up in a ball at the top of a flight of stairs in a quiet apartment building in the Lower East Side.
Lulu stretched her fingers, fighting to keep her blood flowing and frostbite away. She blew into her cuffed hands and rubbed her pale legs.
She made it into the city on time just as she said she would. So, she would wait for Marsha to come home and bring her to the party.
She would wait.
And wait.
And wait.
* * *
Drake stepped off the train at 145th Street in Upper Manhattan. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about Lulu while he rode the train, and he wouldn’t allow himself to think about her now that she was gone. That journey was over. It was fun while it lasted, but it was over.
No use dwelling on what could have been.
If she ever came back to Miami, great. Awesome. Wonderful.
Maybe they could actually follow up on their date if she wasn’t with some big actor or fellow model.
Maybe they could actually share a drink and have a fun night, and she’d want to stay down in Miami for-
Oh, shut up, Drake rebuked himself, ignoring the cab that almost hit him as he crossed the street. It was one of those self-driving cabs with the dozen-and-a-half bulky cameras on top looking at every angle of the street possible. That only worsened his mood. After all they’d been through to get here, how shitty would it be to die by being run over by a robot car right at the finish line?
After all he’d been through to get here. Lulu wasn’t a part of the equation anymore. She was just some girl who he’d happened to cross paths with.
With one hand buried deep in his pocket and the other dragging his duffle, he made his way down a few blocks, crossed a street, down another block, crossed one more street, and arrived at the door of Mark’s building, where his brother was waiting on the porch to meet him.
“I guess Dylan owes me twenty bucks,” Mark said, hopping down the steps to meet Drake on the sidewalk. “Thanks for actually showing up.” Before Drake could respond, Mark threw his arms around his younger brother.
“Don’t tell me Dylan’s here,” Drake groaned, dreading the thought of Mark’s best friend making a guest appearance.
Mark released Drake from the embrace and said with a half-laugh, “What? Think you’re gonna leave already?”
“I’m considering it.”
“Ah, fuck off. Come on, mom’s waiting. Lemme take your bag.” Mark did before Drake could argue, then led him into the house. He opened the door and announced Drake’s arrival, which received a choir a joyful surprise from everyone else in the house.
“Jesus, you all don’t have to ham it up that much,” Drake said.
From his left appeared a short, plump, white-haired woman with tiny spectacles attached to a low-hanging chain around her neck. She greeted him with a light slap on the cheek, then a kiss. “First thing I hear when I see my son is the Lord’s name taken in vain? Shame! It’s so good to see you again, sweetie.”
Drake leaned down and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you too, mom.”
Next to greet Drake was Dylan, coming in hot, loud, and aggressive, with a big hand slapping and grabbing Drake’s shoulder. “You bitch,” he said with a laugh. “I was really expecting you not to show. Figured you were getting too comfy down in Florida.”
“I was,” Drake said.
“Hey, well, it’s good to see you anyway.” Dylan pulled him in for a too-tight hug that Drake needed to tap out of to breathe again. “You’re just in time, too. I’m doing way too much dinner prep for a guest.”
Mark stepped back in to save his little brother. “Come on! Dylan, would you give the guy a chance to breathe?” Then to Drake, “Gonna let me take your bag? Don’t worry, I’ll let you settle in before I put you to work.”
He led Drake down the narrow hall to one of the bedrooms, being sure to take his time so all the other guests could say “Hi” to the prodigal son and welcome him back home. Many faces Drake hadn’t seen in ages, and some of them he couldn’t recall having ever seen at all.
Under his breath as they entered the guest bedroom, Drake said, “Uncle Lou’s here? I thought he was dead.”
Mark didn’t shut the door, yet still said at full volume, “Yeah, I did too. But,” he paused, “here he is.”
“Miracle,” Drake said sarcastically.
“Maybe it is,” Mark replied, looking down the inch differential in their height. “I’m glad you made it. Mom is, too.”
“You didn’t tell her what happened, did you?”
“Which part? You didn’t really tell me what happened. Is there something I should know?”
Drake stalled for time, not wanting to go back out into the crowd just yet. He opened his suitcase and saw his hoodie folded nicely right on top. The scent of her still lingered on it.
“Any of it,” he said eventually. “I feel like if I told her the truth about everything, she’d get upset thinking I’m lying.”
Mark filled in the rest for him. “Telling her you couldn’t make up your mind until just this morning is probably more believable.”
Not that Drake needed another reminder of their mother’s charm and innocence, they heard her voice drifting through the hall and doorway as she asked the guests if anyone wanted a cup of coffee. And, not that Drake would have known, her tone was noticeably lighter than it was before Drake arrived.
“And you didn’t just make up your mind late last night, yeah?” Mark pressed.
“Think I destroyed my phone and stopped over to use Kyle’s just for the bit?”
With the heel of his foot, Mark closed the bedroom door. “It’s a little more believable than you trekking across the Northwest. I wouldn’t think you had it in you.”
“Yeah, well.” Drake dropped down onto the edge of the bed, holding the hoodie tightly in his hands. “Here I am.” He then paused and looked around the room. “Hey, wasn’t Dylan staying in here?”
“He moved out. Moving out,” Mark corrected. Then, giving Drake’s shoulder a brisk jerk, said, “You’ve had your time. I’m gonna need help in the kitchen. Let’s not leave Mom to make dinner on her own.”