Madly (New York 2)
He gave her shoulder a squeeze, the angle weird, his grip digging into her muscle and making her arm twinge. He’d never been the parent who comforted his crying daughters. He was more the type to bribe you into feeling better with a bowl of ice cream after the tears had dried. “You still hung up on Matt?”
She shook her head.
“Then what’re you crying about?”
She shook her head again.
“Allie.” He said her name like he always did, irascible and impatient. Get on with it, kid.
“That I dragged you here, I guess, and Mom’s somewhere out there with—” Rather than say his name, she just looked at her dad. He looked back at her, flat and unreadable. “And that you’re not really my dad, but you had to raise me, and she left us over and over again, and it’s your anniversary, and maybe she won’t come home.”
That I left Winston to come here.
That I miss him.
That things fall apart and I don’t want them to.
Her dad made a noise, a kind of huff. “You want to get some New York pizza? I can’t eat that stuff Ben cooks.”
“Yeah, we could order some.”
“I was thinking we’d go out for a slice.”
“Let me see if there’s anything nearby.” She checked on her phone and found a corner by-the-slice place within a few blocks. Miraculous New York. “Yeah, we’re in business.”
In the elevator, he caught her looking at him and said, “What?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to get back on this elevator.”
“It’s how you get downstairs.”
“I’m surprised you want to go out for pizza.”
“It’s supposed to be a big deal, New York pizza.”
“Have you ever been to New York before?”
“Nope.”
“Did you ever want to?”
“Nope.”
“Sorry.”
“Quit apologizing. You’re giving me a headache.”
They walked in silence for several blocks. Her dad stopped at three different bodegas and walked through the aisles, picking up unfamiliar foods, opening and closing the cooler doors. “What? I’ve never seen this stuff before,” he said when she failed to disguise her impatience.
Her phone said, Arrived. But they were nowhere—in the middle of the sidewalk, late at night, with nobody around and the traffic quiet.
They hadn’t arrived.
They were just lost.
Her dad pointed to a glowing spot on the pavement in the next block. “It’s right there.”
The pizza place was full of raucous teenagers. She got a slice with eleven kinds of vegetables. Her dad got three slices of cheese. “We’re in New York,” he said, when she raised an eyebrow.