3. Lessons
New York in November was not a place I wanted to be without winter clothing. There wasn’t much call for winter coats in Kaimte – or anywhere else we’d been in the past year. One phone call to Gabrielle solved that problem, and another one I hadn’t even considered.
Within days of speaking to her, Mitchell and I borrowed Melito’s jeep and drove down to the parcel depot at the small airport. Waiting for me was a huge suitcase filled with enough winter clothes to see me through several New York winters.
“She was supposed to just pack up my stuff,” I grumbled, pawing through the mass of clothes on the floor in front of me.
“Beggars can’t be choosers, Charli,” teased Mitchell, pulling on a very chic grey wool cap.
I didn’t recognise a single item. I couldn’t even consider them hand-me-downs. Everything was brand new, including the shiny brass key that tumbled out of an envelope I’d just found.
Mitchell waited until I’d read through the accompanying letter before asking me what it was for.
“This,” I said, waving the key in front of him, “is a key to an apartment Gabrielle owns in Manhattan.”
Of course the Parisienne owned real estate in New York. Nothing about the idea was shocking to me.
“You really do have a way of falling on your feet, don’t you?” he asked, donning a scarf that matched his hat.
“I have connections,” I replied, snatching the hat off his head. It was almost embarrassing. I was hardly able to claim independence when I’d been gifted a roof over my head and a complete new wardrobe to boot.
“Can I ask you a question?” Mitchell’s tone matched his suddenly serious expression.
“Sure.”
“What are you going to do if it doesn’t work out with Adam? A lot can change in a year.”
I paused only momentarily. “I’ll be sad.”
Truthfully, I’d be devastated. I’d probably just curl up and let the despair have me. At least I’d look good, courtesy of my new designer wardrobe. But all Mitchell needed to know was that I had enough smarts about me to be able to survive. Alex had demanded the same reassurance. He’d never understood my need to have Adam in my life. Needing him was never a term he was comfortable with.
“He might not feel the same way, Charli,” he’d said gently.
When it came down to it, it didn’t matter. I wanted to see his face – even if it was to be for the last time. I had thought of nothing past that point.
Once all loose ends had been tied, there was no point in staying in Kaimte any longer. Letting go of Mitchell was going to be hard, so I drew it out as long as I could. We made a weekend of it, borrowing Melito’s jeep again and driving south to Cape Town. Two days passed quickly and before I knew it, we were saying our goodbyes at the airport.
“If it doesn’t work out, you come back,” he instructed.
“I will.”
Excitement bubbled within me, preventing me from standing still. Mitchell grabbed my hand to keep me stationary while he rattled off his list of rules. “Don’t let anyone near your bag, make sure you keep some money in your pocket, call me as soon as you get there and don’t forget to wind your clock back.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.” He released my hand and slung his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t talk to strangers.”
“Mitch, everyone will be a stranger.”
“Okay, don’t talk to strange-looking strangers,” he amended.
There were a million things I wanted to tell him, none of which I could articulate well enough.
Mitchell Tate had saved me. At the lowest of the low, after my best friend Nicole had betrayed and deserted me, he’d picked me up and dusted me off. We hadn’t spent longer than a few hours apart in over a year. Mitchell had never needed me. I, however, wouldn’t have survived the first week away from home without him.
There was something very cathartic about leaving him behind. Mitchell was free to make his own way without having to worry about me.
He wouldn’t have to worry about the rent for a while either. I’d used some of my gangster loot to pay his rent up until the end of summer. It’s not something he would have approved of, so I held off telling him until the last minute.
“You’re going to need that money,” he scolded.
“You can’t miss what you don’t have.”
“I know for a fact that’s not true. I’m going to miss you, crazy weirdo.” He grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me hard on the lips. “Now go. You’ve got a plane to catch.”
I fought against turning back to look at him as I made my way through to the departure lounge. The only way from here was forward.
***
The long flights and brutal change in climate were exhausting. By the time I’d cleared customs, collected my luggage, and hailed a cab, I was dead on my feet. I slept through most of the taxi ride, waking only when the driver whistled to rouse me. “This is the place.”
I staggered toward the front door of the building, dragging my mammoth suitcase behind me. I paused when I got there, fearing the cab driver had misunderstood the handwritten address I’d thrust at him when I got in his taxi. I looked up at the red brick building in front of me. It looked to be about ten stories tall and had a canopied entrance. It must be a hotel, I thought, unable to fathom the idea of anyone living there permanently.
The doorman greeted me at the door, granting me the widest smile I’d ever seen. “Good morning, Miss.” His cheeriness was a little unnerving considering I’d been functioning for nearly twenty-four hours without sleep.
“Hi there.” I smiled. “I wonder if you could help me.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
I handed him the scrap piece of paper I’d jotted the address on.
“You’re here, Miss,” he said.
I glanced around the foyer. The taupe marble floor was so shiny that I wanted to take my shoes off and skate across it in my socks. The mere fact that I considered it suggested I didn’t belong there.
“My name is Charli,” I told him.
The doorman tilted his head and tipped his black hat with his white gloved hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Charli. My name is Marvin.”
Something told me Marvin wasn’t as prim and proper as his job commanded him to be. There was warmth in his dark brown eyes that I found comforting.
“Can I call you Marv?” I asked, cheekily.
He chuckled. “All of my friends do.”
“How long have you worked here, Marv?”
He rocked back on his heels, flicking his wide lapels proudly. “Fifteen years now, Miss Charli.”
“Do you remember Gabrielle Décarie? She used to live here.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “Miss Gabrielle hasn’t been here in some time, though.”
I rushed through my story quickly, explaining that I would be squatting in her apartment for a while.
“It will be a pleasure having you here,” he said kindly.
I felt relieved. A friendly face was exactly what I needed on my first day in a strange city. Marvin fit the bill perfectly.
***
Gabrielle’s apartment was on the eighth floor. I stepped out of the elevator into a small foyer that housed a sofa that didn’t look like it had ever been sat on. Twisting my key in the lock of the door, I bumped it open with my shoulder and dragged my luggage inside.
The picture I’d built in my head of what the apartment would look like was spot on. It had big windows, hardwood floors throughout, white walls and high ceilings. The granite kitchen looked brand new, and the bathroom was more luxurious than any hotel I’d stayed in. Gabrielle had warned me that it was unfurnished, but I couldn’t have cared less. I was more than used to making do with whatever I had.
The only stick of furniture was in the bedroom, a huge bed that looked as new as the kitchen. I tore the plastic cover off the mattress, lay down and slept like a baby for the next fifteen hours.
Marvin quickly became my go-to man. I wouldn’t have survived the first few days without him.
My very tight budget didn’t quite match the part of town I lived in, and even without mentioning it Marvin seemed to know. He’d overheard me in the lobby asking one of my neighbours, Oliver, for directions to a local supermarket. Oliver’s recommendation was a gourmet deli on the corner. “It’s called Hammerstein’s Gourmet,” he announced in his trademark camp tone. “They do fabulous antipasto platters. You must check it out. Such wonderful produce.”
“Miss Charli,” whispered Marvin, stopping me at the door.
“Yes?”
“Tell me what you’re looking for.” His broad grin was contagious.
“Bread, milk and tea,” I replied. “Nothing too fancy.”
He took a small notebook out of his pocket and drew me a very basic map. “Everything you need is here.”
I looked at the page in my hand, studying the directions to Easybeats grocery store. “You’re a lifesaver, Marv.”
For some reason, Marvin read me perfectly. Charli Blake was definitely more Easybeats than Hammerstein’s.
***
Marvin sketched me quite a few maps over the next couple of days. With his help, I managed to navigate my way around a little bit of my new city. So far I loved New York, which left me wondering what might have been if I’d been courageous enough to stick to my original plan of following Adam a year ago.
On day four, I pulled Marvin aside and asked him for directions to the most important address of all. The Décarie’s building. It wasn’t until I saw the map that I realised it was just a half hour walk away.
I had to strike while the iron was hot and I lost my nerve. Braving the bleak winter chill, I said goodbye to Marvin and headed off to reclaim my bliss. I had no idea how to follow through with my heart’s desire. I had no clue what I’d say to him. What if Adam told me to go away? Or worse, what if he stared at me blankly and asked me who I was? Being forgotten would be worse than being rejected.
Adam’s building was even grander than the one I was staying in. Each floor boasted a curved wrought iron balcony and huge black framed arched windows. There was a grace about the stately old building that Gabrielle’s didn’t have. My posture seemed to straighten just because I was standing near it.
I mulled over my choices. I could approach the doorman and ask to be let in. He’d call upstairs and tell Adam that Charli Blake was there to see him. My heart started to race as I played out the conversation in my head.
“Charli, who?” Adam would say.
“Charlotte, tell him its Charlotte,” I’d plead.
The doorman would push me out the door, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. He says he doesn’t know you.”
I shuddered, warding off the make-believe rebuff.
Taking a step back, I looked up at the tall building and considered option two. I could just wait for him to come out. It was only eight in the morning. Sooner or later he’d have to appear. That plan unravelled quickly too.
The Décarie’s doorman looked seriously hardcore. Perhaps he knew how ridiculous he looked in the military-style hat with coordinating gold trim.
I crossed the street to get out of his view, feeling a little foolish. I was completely alone in one of the biggest cities in the world, hinging my entire happiness on a boy who’d possibly changed his mind about me long ago. I decided to stay put anyway and was rewarded early. Adam walked out the door after just a few minutes.
I stood blatantly staring at him. If he’d glanced up for even a second, the jig would’ve been up. But he didn’t, giving me ample opportunity to ogle him some more.
Adam Décarie remained perfect. He was still insanely good-looking, even from a distance. He chatted with the doorman for a while, actually managing to raise a smile out of him, and then strolled out on to the footpath.
My heart stopped. I didn’t have time to think about what would happen next. Adam looked straight ahead – and smiled at me. It was the same perfect, bright grin that coloured most of my memories of him. I wanted to run and leap into his arms. I wanted to kiss him in a way that made up for a year of missed kisses. But something held me back. It could have been nerves. I could have been a little stunned by him. But most likely, I held back because I realised he wasn’t smiling at me.
Focusing only on him, I hadn’t noticed the brunette girl cut across the street a few metres down from me. Stealing my next move, she bounded into his embrace and hugged him tightly. Adam’s reaction was gut wrenchingly familiar. He kissed her.
And that was the moment that I was overtaken by pure grief.
Everything seemed to slow down, including my thought processes. I’d reached a dead end. All hope, anticipation and goodness about the best love I’d ever known left my body in an instant. My only saving grace was the realisation that he hadn’t seen me at all. There would be no awkward confrontation, no moment when he’d have to let me down gently. For Adam and me, there would be no more moments at all.
Pulling myself together as best I could, I slipped into the stream of pedestrian traffic, making the short journey back to my apartment with a heavy heart, an empty head and a weightless soul.
Marvin was a sharp guy. Hiding my devastation from him was impossible. He was waving a white handkerchief at me before I’d even reached the door. I smiled through my tears, graciously taking it from him as soon as I was within reach.
“Miss Charli,” he cooed. “Why so sad? Was there a problem with the map I drew you?”
A preschooler would have understood his directions and Marvin knew it.
“No, no problem. Some things just don’t work out, that’s all.”
“Ah, but Miss Charli.” He flicked his wide lapels with his fingertips. “You’re in New York. Anything is possible.”
For some reason I laughed. I couldn’t help it. And then I cried again, a loud embarrassing sob. I’d remembered Adam once telling me the same thing as he waltzed me around the boatshed. “We can do anything, Charlotte,” he’d told me.
Poor Marvin looked stricken, like he wanted to comfort me but had no idea how.
I sucked in a long breath, trying to compose myself. “I love your city, Marv. I’m just not sure it’s going to work out for me. I’m pretty sure it’s time for me to go home.”
He put his gloved hand to his heart, nodded his head and stepped aside to usher me through the door.
If there was a level of emotion below the pit of despair, I was there.
I sat on the floor in the kitchen, tearing sheets of paper towel off the roll to stem my endless flow of tears. My whole body ached, but my thoughts were surprisingly clear. I’d decided to leave New York, relieved by the knowledge that the process would be simple. All I had to do was book my ticket. I hadn’t even made it as far as unpacking my suitcase properly. The trickiest decision I had to make was where to go.
I cast my mind back to the three options Alex had given me before I left home: revisit a safe place I’d been, find my way to Adam or go home to him. None of the places I’d visited could be considered remotely safe without Mitchell by my side. And finding my way to Adam hadn’t worked out too well. That left option three, and the idea wasn’t as awful as I expected it to be. I was tired, lonely and a little bit fragile. It seemed like the perfect time to go home to my father.
An hour passed before I felt calm enough to call him with the news. Talking to Alex required preparation. Any hint of sadness or uneasiness resulted in a volley of questions that I usually had no answer for, followed by threats of jumping on a plane to come and get me.
Today I was given a reprieve. Gabrielle answered.
“Charli.” She punched out my name as if she’d been hanging by the phone, waiting for my call.
I tried to hold it together but failed dismally, blubbering to her as if my world was ending. And at that point, I was pretty sure it was. “I saw him,” I snivelled.
She sighed. “Oh, dear. Tell me what happened.”
I explained the whole sorry saga in six messy sentences.
There was a time when Gabrielle could have forewarned me that Adam had met someone else. They used to be extremely close; but Gabi and Adam no longer spoke at all. Years of exchanging long handwritten letters had ended. I’d never asked why, fearing it had something to do with me. Adam deserved a clean break. If cutting Gabrielle off was part of that break, then so be it.
“I want to come home,” I whimpered pathetically.
She groaned. “Why would you want to do that?”
“It’s my home, Gabrielle.” I snapped at her, totally distraught.
Going home would definitely cramp her style. Maybe that’s why she offered up her swank New York apartment.
“Charli, if things had worked out with Adam, would you even be considering coming home right now?” But it hadn’t worked out. Not one thing had worked out the way I’d planned and hoped it would. “Your adventure had nothing to do with Adam,” she continued. “You wanted to see the world. Open your eyes and look around. You’ve arrived.”
“I can’t stay.” My protest came out sounding like a growl. “I don’t know anyone, I don’t know my way around and I’m running out of money.”
“And what does any of that have to do with Adam? Do you like New York?”
I had to concede that my predicament did have nothing to do with Adam. He had no idea I was even in his city. I’d stood twenty metres away from him and he still didn’t know.
“I do like it here.”
“Très bien,” she soothed. “Calm yourself and look at the bigger picture.” She spoke in her best French teacher voice. I hadn’t missed it one bit. “You’re living in a gorgeous part of the city, in a perfectly secure building. Do you like the apartment?”
What wasn’t to like? It was a palace. I’d spent a year hopping from one hovel to another. I would’ve considered any abode with running water and a roof that didn’t leak palatial.
“It’s great. The apartment’s not the problem.”
“Look, give New York a chance. Go and get a job. Get out and meet people. You won’t regret it.”
Coming from anyone else it would have been difficult to believe, but Gabrielle was speaking from experience. She’d landed in New York at the same age as me, managed to make a go of it and stayed for four years. But there were differences. She had family here, a zillion dollars at her disposal and a green card allowing her to work legally. I had none of these things.
“Charli, if you come back here, you’re going to want to leave again in a few months. Leaving the second time is going to be much harder than it was the first time.”
I knew she was right but refused to tell her so. “I’ll give it a week and see what happens.”
“Good girl.” I could tell by her tone of voice that she was smiling. I wondered if she could tell that I was mocking her by pulling a face. “Is Alex there?”
“No, he’s still at the café.” It didn’t matter where in the world I was; I was always oblivious to the time difference. “I’ll get him to call you when he gets in.”
“No, leave it a few days,” I said. “I want to have better news to tell him.”
“You’ll be fine, Charli. I have every faith in you.”