2 Big Apple Hunter (13 page)

“That sounds wonderful,” I told him.
Once again, I felt a flutter of excitement. I was embarking on another adventure with new people, even if it was only brunch.

Joe set a glass of water down for both of us. I looked around the restaurant and then back at Joe and asked, “Are you open for business now?”

He laughed. “Not yet. But we’re
here early on Sundays, and the front door is always open for Jim.”

“I’ve been coming here regularly for the past eight years,” Jim said. “Joe’s been here at least that long, too.” He turned on his stool to face me and asked, “Susan, are
you roaming around the city
by yourself this morning?”

“I am,” I told him proudly. “I brought a cab down from the St. Regis, but plan to walk my way back by way of Times Square.”

Joe frowned
, but Jim was still smiling as he said, “Let me give you some advice. Walking around the city is fine if you stay on the main streets, and don’t look like a tourist.”

“What does that mean? Look like a tourist?” I asked him.

“You can always spot the tourists,” said Joe shaking his head.

“Yes,” Jim said taking over again. “Tourists rubberneck. They look up at the tops of buildings, swing their heads around to take in all the sights, and stand and stare through windows. Pay attention as you walk today, and you’ll easily spot the tourists.”

Joe picked up the narrative, “If you want to look like a New Yorker, you look straight ahead, walk fast, and act as though you know where you’re going.”

“I never thought about that.” I said smiling at both of them. “I might have to do some rubbernecking in Times Square though.”

They both laughed
. “Just keep your purse tucked in extra close when you’re in the Square,” said Jim. “It’s a haven for pickpockets.”

A server brought two Bloody Marys and our Egg
s Benedict
from the kitchen and set the food down in front of us. The Eggs Benedict looked perfect. I loved Hollandaise and it was plentiful on the eggs. We dug right in.

Joe stepped away to take care of a delivery at the back door. Jim and I chatted over the meal about our profe
ssions. He seemed impressed
I worked two jobs, and I was impressed at how much work went into managing
the
theater. I especial
ly enjoyed the few stories
he shared about the famous talent he had met over the years. He was easy to talk
with, and it
felt like catching up with an old friend.

Joe was finished with the delivery and came back to the bar. “Why were you at the theater, Susan?” he asked. “Purchasing tickets?”

“No
,” I told him. “
My friend couldn’t make it to the show last night, so I turned his ticket back in at the box office. They sold it again and set the money aside for me.”

“Where’s your friend now?” Jim asked.

“He’s been in business meetings all weekend. He’s actually my neighbo
r back home in Ohio, and I
tagged alo
ng with him on his
trip.”

“Lucky fella,” said Jim. Joe smiled and nodded in agreement.

I smiled a little smile. After las
t night, I could only hope
Darby still felt lucky to have brought me with him.

Jim continued, “Bring him here for dinner tonight. Joe, you watch for Susan and her friend. Make sure they have a nice time, and then send the bill to me.”

“Oh, no!” I protested. “Don’t do that. Brunch was enough for one day.”

“I insist,” said Jim. “If you come back, it will be my treat. It was a pleasure to spend time with you this morning.”

I looked at both of them
and decided
it was a good idea to ask
for some advice. “Listen, I do have someone following me.” They looked at each other with alarm. “I don’t know that his
intent is sinister. He may simply
be keepi
ng an eye on me to be sure
I’m safe while I roam around the city. I saw him yesterday morning talking to my friend’s employer, so they may have him watching me.” Both men nodded. “But what if it’s something else? I really don’t want him following me today
,
and
I’d
like to ditch him. Any ideas?”

Joe raised his hand slightly toward me and said, “I’ve got you covered, Susan. I’ll walk you out the back door, and we’ll cut through the alleys between the buildings over to 44th Street. You’re only half a block from 7th Avenue then, and you can take it up to Times Square.”

“Perfect,
” I said as I took a last drink of water, grabbed my purse, and turned to Jim, “This was rea
lly pleasant. Thank you
for inviting me to come.”

He
grasped
my hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it. “The pleasure was all mine,” he said. I felt myself blushing again. He pulled out his wallet, slipped out a card, and handed it to me.
“
If you ever come back to New York City, Susan Hunter, you give me a call. We’ll have a night on the town.” I smiled. I’d add the card to the stack.

Joe looked at Jim and said, “Stay here for another ten minutes, Jim. Give me time to get Susan out to 44th before you leave. That
way her stalker won’t know
she’s no longer
in here
.”

“Good idea,” said Jim. He settled back onto his stool and asked the server for another Bloody Mary.

Joe
led
me through the kitchen and out a back door into the alley behind the building. We were sandwiched between the rear entrances of several restaurants. Many of the garbage cans were overflowing, and the odor was appalling. Joe laughed at my obvious revulsion and said, “It takes a little getting used to.”

He led me through the alley, turned right into one last smaller alley, and just like that, we were on the sidewalk of 44th Street. Joe turned to me and said, “Remember, don’t gawk. Look straight ahead and pretend you own the city. If you see something in a window, go inside to look at it, don’t window shop.” He shook my hand. “Thanks for a fun morning. If you don’t come back this evening, I hope we see you again sometime.”

“I had fun, too, Joe. Thanks!” I said as I gave him a wave and headed off quickly toward 7th Avenue. Indiana Jones was nowhere to be seen.

I walked north on 7th, mi
ndful of what the guys had just
told me, and I had to chuckle. I was fitting right in with the New Yorkers, and the tourists stuck out like sore thumbs. It felt wonderful to be out in the fresh air, and the brisk walking was sorely needed after so many days of not exercising. I was going to have to work in extra games of racquetball next week, membership drive at the center or not.

A
t Times Square
, I slowed down
to look around. It was a cacophony of sound and movement. There were souvenir shops, restaurants, theaters, stores, and the Naked Cowboy was singing with a crowd around him in the middle of the Square. The TKTS booth was swamped with people looking to buy discounted theater tickets. It was a bucket list moment, and I couldn’t help but
to l
ook up and around and take it all in. I loved everything about it!

It would be spectacular at night, and I tried to imagine the Square on New Year’s Eve with throngs of people. I would love to be here with Mick for a New Year’s kiss and fireworks - in more ways than one. I instantly felt tingly just thinking about it.

Mick and I hadn’t had any holidays together yet other than the Fourth of July.
On that day, we
had
made the scenic, one-hour drive
to Carnation Park in Templeton.
H
e said it was one of his favorite parks, and
his parents had taken him
often as a child. He chose a spot for us high on a hill, not entirely secluded, but away from the main crowd. We spread a blanket out and sat and talked for over an hour until the first single intermittent fireworks went up indi
cating
the show was ready to start. We l
ie
back on the blanket and gazed
into the night sky. It was an amazing angle. The fireworks were beautiful and appeared to be directly over our heads. I had never viewed fireworks like this before, and it was dazzling. At one point, I felt Mick’s hand slide across my midsection as he reached over to support himself. He hovered above me for a second, and then kissed me with
a kiss that took my breath away and left
me weak. If we hadn’t been in public, there would have been no turning back on that night. It was magical.

I couldn’t wait to see what future holidays held for us. If there was a future
.

I sud
denly felt silly standing
all tingly in Times Square, and resumed my brisk walk again heading north on 7th. I almost crossed the street at 55th to r
un into the Carnegie Deli
for the experience
,
and to see what their Reuben sandwiches looked like, but I wasn’t hungry after brunch with Jim, so I kept walking toward Central Park.

When I reached the park, I wasn’t s
ure what to do. I didn’t
know much about the park
,
and
I w
asn’t sure about going into it by myself. I knew it was over 800 acres, but I didn’t know
if there were areas
I should avoid. I opted
not to enter, and
I turned right on Central Park South
. I
crossed the street to walk along the park
’s southern
wall, and headed east toward Fifth Avenue.

Thankfully,
I
saw a
small group of hot dog vendors. I needed a bottle of water desperately. I stopped to drink the water and look around. Artists had their wares displayed along the park wall. Other vendors had merchandise for sale. Horses and buggies were lined up along the park. It was lovely, I was enjoying myself and I still felt safe.

After throwing the empty water bottle in the trash, I
continue
d
my walk
along the stone wall.
Not even five seconds later,
I spotted Indiana Jones up ahead. There was no denying it
now
, he was definitely following me. He
could
be a guardian, but my instincts told me he was to be feared.
His back was to
me, but I was sure it was him.

I was now near The Pond.
From what I could see
, there was
only
one more entrance into the park. I walked slowly, keeping the man in my line of sight. I saw him gla
nce back over his shoulder
. He was probably watching to be sure I was still following along the wall. As soon as he turned away
from me, I darted into the park. I briefly saw
a
sign indicating I was on Center Drive.
I clutched my purse hard and
took off running
. I wanted to get as far into the park as possib
le before the man realized
I had changed course.

I had no idea where the mad dash would take me. If I kept on a northeasterly path, I should eventually come to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
At the very least,
I would end up at the other end of the park, but I knew I had to keep running.

Several minutes later, I
had to stop
to
catch my breath. I was in good shape, but knowing Indiana Jones was following me had already caused my heart to race, and I couldn’t run for very long without needing to stop. I moved off the path to my right an
d saw
I was at the Balto Statue. I knew the story of the Siberian Husky and his part in delivering medicine in Alaska, but I was too distraught to enjoy the statue or remember the entire story. I moved back to the path and decided to stop running and
simply
walk briskly. I couldn’t
take the time to admire the beautiful park.
I had to ke
ep
watching for Indiana Jones, b
ut I never spotted him again, and
I
realized
I
had
given him the slip.

It was a long walk, but I finally made it to the Metropolitan M
useum of Art.
I wasn’t prepared for the size of the building
– it was huge!
It was just after 2:00, and I would never have enough time to go through it all. I
would
have to get a museum map and make strategic decisions on what to see.

I headed straightaway to the second floor
and
European Paintings. I was amazed at the collections. There were
many wonderful artists
I had never heard of, but hippie Aunt Charlotte had done well
by me, and there were many
I did recognize – Cezanne, Gauguin, Manet, Millet, and many more. I loved the Monet paintings.
Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies
was amazing. And who knew van Gogh painted shoes? There was Edgar Degas,
At the Milliner’s
and
Race Horses
. I had never seen these before.
Race Horses
was completely unexpected.
Dancer with a Fan
and
Dancers Practicing at the Barre
were
familiar to me. There were several more
ballerina paintings, and I stood
grinning at them. I wondered if security had cameras to capture the
expressions
on
visitor
’s faces as they viewed
the works. Maybe I should
look more demure. Nah. I moved on with my silly grin.