Chapter Sixteen

JULIAN

July 2, 1990

We made it to New York City a few weeks ago. It's been a major culture shock to go from the island of Puerto Rico to Louisiana, and now a much bigger city all in the same year. When we arrived, Grayson found an advertisement in a local paper from a gay couple who were looking for another couple to rent out their spare bedroom. We were lucky to find Alex and Miles when we did, since we arrived with less than half of Grayson's final paycheck from Piggly Wiggly. All these guys want from us is to help with the cost of groceries, because Alex's family is rich. They've been very friendly and I'm not sure what we'd do without them.

People in the big city always seem to be on the go. Nobody stops to take a breath of fresh air. And apart from Alex and Miles, money seems to be the driving factor behind everything in New York City. Grayson quickly found a job once we came here. He's pretty much doing the same as he did in Louisiana, but for a chain of higher-end markets called Dean & DeLuca.

Last week, I got very sick. We don't exactly know what it was, but we assume it was some kind of stomach flu. After spending hours in the bathroom hunched over the toilet, Grayson came home from work with a bag full of supplies to help me feel better. He also spent every remaining dollar to his name, on medications, soup, crackers, and ginger ale. All of that for me, leaving him with nothing to eat for two days until he received his first paycheck. We haven't eaten much of Miles and Alex's food until we have enough to contribute.

I have an interview next week for an internship as an office assistant with Seven Liberties Publishing. They're a major book publisher downtown. It won't pay anything. But since I want to be an author, Grayson wants me to pursue it because it will give me some exposure to the publishing industry. I was going to put in an application at a few restaurants near the apartment but was told implicitly by my incredibly thoughtful boyfriend that he wanted me to do something I was passionate about.

He touched my heart the other day by saying, "until you write your first best-seller, I'll earn the money for both of us."

We went grocery shopping on Friday when he got paid. He even gave me thirty bucks to hold onto if I found something I wanted. So yesterday while Grayson was working, I went for a walk down 5th Avenue where I saw this new journal in a stationery store. He seems to find satisfaction in spoiling me, but I don't want him to ever feel like I'm taking him for granted.

Since moving, we've both already applied to NYU. I'm hoping to get accepted into the writing program, while Grayson's going to step into the world of architecture. There was a full-ride scholarship opportunity with another college in Massachusetts, though he said he didn't think his transcript down in Felton would match what they're looking for. I did help him write the essay for it, but he's doubtful it will go anywhere. The admissions officer at NYU told us both to expect a letter within the coming weeks, to see if we're accepted or not. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we both get to follow our dreams in this new chapter of our lives.

On the family front, I miss them so much. I'm holding onto the hope that in time my heart will heal. And that theirs will also. But I love this boy so much, I had to follow him here. And thankfully we're so far away from Clint Welles, he'll never find us in New York City.

Yesterday we celebrated our five-month anniversary of being boyfriends, a week early. As soon as he came home from work, he whisked my attention from the land of Narnia, which is what I've been reading since we settled into the apartment. Going down to get my library card was one of the first things I did when we moved here.

"Put your shoes on," he insisted. "We're going on an adventure."

At first, I didn't know what he had planned. I didn't peg him for the type to remember certain milestones in a relationship. I figure I'd be that guy.

"Okay," I said, slipping a piece of paper in my book to mark its place. "Can you clue me in on where you're taking me?"

He shook his head with a big grin. "You'll find out when we get there," he teased.

After I tied my shoes, we stepped out to the street. He led me around the corner to the Bleecker Street subway station, ushering me down the steps after paying our fare. The screeching sound of metal seemed to bother him, since he'd let go of my hand to cover his ears. This wasn't the first time we'd taken the rail, but loud sounds really bother him.

I wondered if there was an alternate route, if subways would be the painful experience for him as they seemed to be. "Is this the only way to get where you're taking me?" I asked, rubbing his back.

He nodded. "It's a lot faster," he said.

We waited for the 6 train to arrive after standing on the platform for what seemed to be an hour. The poor thing ducked forward with covered ears the entire time. Once we boarded the proper rail, it zipped us down to the Brooklyn Bridge – City Hall stop where we stepped off.

"This is part one of our journey," he said, taking my hand until the daylight of Lower Manhattan blinded us.

We had to walk almost a block away just to use a crosswalk. The only method leading us to the correct side of the road, where a long path stretched all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge. The dozen people made Grayson nervous, so he squeezed my hand tightly most of the trek across—which took a decent hour. And only when we approached the other side, his grip loosened.

"We're almost there," he said, retrieving a folded map from his back pocket.

It took me a second to catch my breath. "I guess we're gonna be getting our exercise by living here," I joked.

Thirty minutes and a few crosswalks later, we found ourselves at the entrance of Brooklyn Bridge Park. Lawns full of green grass and trees surrounded us with a breathtaking view of Lower Manhattan off in the distance. We found a quiet spot away from most everyone else, yet within proximity of the water. Grayson nudged me to the ground where he straddled my waist. His lips landed into mine as the summer breeze blew through the strands of his black hair.

"This is a stunning view of the city," I said, stroking my fingers over his left ear.

Those cola-colored eyes of his stared into mine when he smiled back. "Yeah, it's nice," he said. "But you take the top prize for most stunning."

His forehead rested on mine as we cherished the solitude that moment offered us. In that instant, my worries about the future melted away. If I'm with him, I just know things will work out for the best. Those words of his made me feel a tingle in my crotch. Though I knew it was too public of a setting to have sex, my urges overpowered me anyway. And his curious hands feeling me up didn't make it an easy feat either.

He broke the silence between us, right along with my pent-up sexual fascination. "Are you really hungry, or is it just me?" Grayson asked.

I shook my head. "I'm glad you said something," I replied. "I could eat."

"We're not dressed to the nines, and I don't have too much money left anyway," he admitted. "But there's a hot dog stand just over there," he added, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

"A hot dog would be fine with me, Saccharo Ferre," I admitted.

We followed the sidewalk leading us to a man at a mobile hot dog cart. It didn't matter what we ate, I'd have been just as happy with a pack of graham crackers. What mattered to me most was that we were spending time together. Grayson asked the older guy to top our hotdogs in the traditional New York fashion. That meant doused in a spicy brown mustard, sauerkraut, and onions.

Our grassy spot in front of the East River waited for our return, after grabbing our dinner. I bit into my hotdog not knowing what to expect, since I'd never even heard of sauerkraut. For it being my first time ever trying it, I must admit it has an interesting flavor.

Soon after settling the last potato chip in the bag battle with a kiss, the sun fell behind the tall buildings of Manhattan. We sat upright with our hands in each other's lap, as the wind intensified the closer we got to sundown. Then both of his hands landed on my shoulders. I felt them massaging my muscles before the pressure grew stronger.

"Happy five months, Momo," he said, rubbing his strong knuckles into my neck.

"Happy five months to you too, Saccharo Ferre," I replied.

Grayson rose to his feet just as our view of the sunset off in the distance came to a wrap. He reached down to help me up off the lawn before taking my hand. We walked down to a pier, which is a loading zone for a ferry to take us back to Lower Manhattan. He and I didn't arrive home until after nine. That peaceful evening away was one of the most romantic moments we've shared since moving here. It just goes to prove that Grayson knows how to create a tender moment without dropping a stack of money.