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In the morning, I lay in bed, trying to make sense of my emotions surrounding Ollie and that incredible story. After sleeping on it, I realized it made me trust him more—it was a pretty personal story. But at the same time, he clearly didn’t know what he wanted in life, which was a trigger for me. We could be friends. I could do that. I made a fire then ran Zeke up to the roof. While he peed, I emptied all the pans with a few inches of water into the largest pot. I boiled it, filled more bottles, then placed the pot back on the roof. It’d stopped raining, but hopefully the oncoming storm would give us more. After I fed Zeke, I made some corn cakes and fried them in a tablespoon of coconut oil. I grabbed my French press full of coffee and went downstairs with Zeke. I knocked, feeling anxious.
Ollie answered the door, seeming to be in better spirits than the night before. “Hi.”
“Hi. I made some food and coffee. Want some?”
“Oh god, yes, thank you. I found some teabags in a drawer, but it doesn’t have nearly enough kick.”
He opened the door wider to let me in. We sat at the dining table, eating our food silently. He grunted about how good the cakes tasted a few times, and I felt pleased that I’d shared.
“I’d give anything for a lavender latte.”
I made a face. “Lavender latte? That sounds weird.”
He laughed. “I thought so, too, but the guy at the counter talked me into it. They’re amazing. There’s this place not far from here that makes the best one. Bean something.”
“Are you talking about The Burly Bean?”
He snapped his fingers. “Yeah. You know it?”
“I do. Although after my last visit, I’d be embarrassed to go back. I kind of yelled at the girl behind the counter. Not my finest moment. In my defense, I hadn’t had my coffee yet, and some guy almost ran me over because he wasn’t looking where he was going.” I paused. “Wait.” I narrowed my eyes, and at the same time, Ollie narrowed his. We pointed at each other.
“That was you, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe this,” I said, and we both chuckled. “It is a small community, and there aren’t too many places to get a lavender latte in Long Island City. But still, that’s crazy. Sorry, I was kind of a jerk.”
“No, I should be the one apologizing. I was so consumed by an email I’d gotten from that private investigator that I wasn’t paying attention. And I hate it when people walk while looking at their phone.”
While we split the last corn cake, I told him about the man in the street from the other night.
He frowned when I told him I went back to bed. “You didn’t do anything?”
“What was I supposed to do? He’s sick. We can’t let him in here.”
He opened his mouth but immediately closed it and went back to eating.
I felt my face tense. “What?”
“Nothing, I just... you’ve helped me so much. I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“You can say it. What is it?”
He hesitated, weighing his words. “I know we can’t let him in here, but you could have thrown him some food or a blanket or something.”
I stopped drinking my coffee and looked at him sharply. “Ollie, I was half asleep. I’m supposed to come up with ideas at three in the morning? Besides, we need to conserve our resources. There’s not much food left. That man is going to die, and we’re gonna need the little food we have.”
He looked pointedly at me. “We can get by. We can go gather more acorns or something. He’s still a human being who’s starving, whether he’s sick or not. You could have given him something.” He got up and went to the kitchen to clean his dishes, leaving me to watch his retreating back with my mouth hanging open.
I felt judged, and it irritated me. I wasn’t a bad person—I’d dragged him in, after all. I followed him to the kitchen, and we wiped down our dishes with wet paper towels in silence. The whole time, I was rolling Ollie’s words around in my head. I was getting angrier with each fork and cup I wiped. But by the time we were done and I was ready to go back upstairs, I asked myself who I was angry at. I realized I was mad at myself because on some level, I’d been thinking the same thing. The truth was, Ollie was right.
Before I opened the door, I turned to him. “You’re right, I should have given him something. I wasn’t thinking.” I could have given him a few tortillas or even a pillow to sleep on.
He turned around and said, “Maybe we can still find him.”
“I looked for him this morning but didn’t see him. I’ll keep looking. Why don’t we gather a few things and have them ready in case we see him again?”
He gave me a triumphant smile.
And for some reason, it annoyed me. “I already said you were right. No need to gloat!”
He pursed his lips, stifling a laugh. “I’m not gloating, I promise.”
We found a trash bag under the kitchen sink, and I took it upstairs. I added a couple of tortillas, a baggie of acorns, and a pillow. I wrapped the whole thing up in a thick wool blanket from Kirk’s apartment then tied it at the top. I went on about my day, working out, reading, and making another batch of tortillas. The flour was running low—I only had enough for another batch or two. I could maybe make an acorn mash, but we would need to go out and get more.
By early evening, I was getting antsy, so I splurged and turned on my iPod. I lay on the carpet in the living room, put my earbuds in, and listened to a Linda Ronstadt album my mom and I loved when I was little. Blue Bayou always relaxed me. I was only halfway through the song when Zeke’s worried face came into view above me. I pulled the buds out and immediately heard knocking on my front door. I ran over and found Ollie on the other side, breathlessly holding his ribs.
“That man from last night. I think he’s outside.”
I ran to grab the large blanket-covered bag and met Ollie in the hall. We ran to Barb’s apartment and looked out the window.
“Where did you see him?” I asked.
“I didn’t. I heard him. But he sounded pretty close.”
We watched for several minutes, and I was about to tell him we would try again another time when I heard the man’s raspy voice. “It’s cold! I don’t have anything. Please, can you give me some food?” I heard the cart’s wobbly wheels to our left. We pulled up the screen and leaned out. There he was, walking toward us.
When he was at the next building, Ollie waved his arm. “Over here!”
The man looked up and hurried to our window, coughing a few times along the way. “Oh, bless you. I need to come in from the cold. Could I please come in?”
“I’m sorry, but we can’t let you in—you could get us sick. But we have some supplies for you,” Ollie replied. We both picked up the bag and squeezed it through the window. “Step back, and we’ll drop it on the ground.”
The man moved back a few feet, and we let the bag go. It landed with a thud.
The man looked up at us. “I’m Henry. Are you sure I can’t come in? I could stay in an apartment no one’s using.”
Ollie and I shared a long look, and then I had an idea. “Henry, the front door is busted on the building right next to this one on Twenty-First Street. I think there are still some people in there, but most have left. I know that apartment 3B is unlocked. Why don’t you go in there?”
Henry’s eyes lit up as he smiled. “That should work. Thanks for the tip! And thank you for this stuff. If I need more, can I come back?”
Ollie looked at me as if it was my call to make. I looked at Henry and his sad, beat-down face then nodded. “Yes, come back when you need more. The cupboards have already been cleaned out in that apartment. I’m Karis, and this is Ollie.”
Henry smiled at me. “Thank you. You are the first people to help since I made it over the bridge from Greenpoint. My house burned down in a fire, and I barely made it out with a few things. Do you have any cough medicine? My throat is killing me.”
“Let me go look,” I said.
Ollie and I went to Barb’s bathroom and found some long-expired capsules of Nyquil that I’d been reluctant to give the girls. Ollie grabbed a plastic shopping bag, the pills, and a large bottle we filled with water. There was a small throw blanket on the couch, and we put that in the bag too. It was cold, and two blankets were better than one. Ollie leaned out and dropped the bag to the ground. The man peeked inside and looked relieved.
“God bless you two,” he said, looking up at us with watery eyes.
We waved goodbye and told him to knock on Ollie’s window when he ran out of supplies. After closing the window, I looked at Ollie. “You were right. I’m glad we did this.”
He smiled. “Me too.”
We walked back to the hall and said goodnight. I almost asked if he wanted to hang out, but I didn’t think I was ready for that yet, no matter how much I’d like company. I wanted to be friends, but I admitted to myself that I found him attractive. It was best if we limited our time together. Instead, I went upstairs and wrote in my journal about everything that had happened that day, trying to make sense of it all. I was way out of my comfort zone, but it didn’t feel so bad. I thought it might be pushing me further in the right direction. I went to bed, hoping I was right.
The next morning, I woke up late and took Zeke upstairs after lighting a fire in the fireplace. The sky was dark for morning, and it was starting to sprinkle. The minute the raindrops hit Zeke’s fur, he squinted up at me.
“Come on, Zeke, you gotta go.”
I dragged him around the roof, telling him we would stay out until he went. He finally relented and raised his leg on the side of the wall bordering the door. The clouds were an ominous gray and moving slowly. Rain sprinkled us as we hurried back through the door. On the other side, the rain tapped on the skylight in the stairwell. I rushed back to my apartment and made coffee with yesterday’s grounds. I ran down to Ollie’s door and knocked.
“Hey, it’s raining. We should put more pans and bowls on the roof.”
“Good idea. Let me put on my shoes.”
We scoured the apartments for more pots, bowls and buckets, spraying them all down with Lysol. We ran them up to the roof, and by the time we were done, the roof was covered in containers. We walked downstairs and heard my phone ringing. I cursed, realizing that, again, I’d forgotten to put it on airplane mode. We rushed in, and I picked it up mid-ring.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, breathless.
“Is it raining there?”
“Yeah, it’s light though. Not too bad yet.”
“Honey, they’ve just upgraded it to a superstorm. It merged with a tropical storm from the south. It’s making its way up north along the east coast. It could bring up to fifteen or twenty inches of rain and wind gusts up to eighty miles an hour.”
“Great, this is just what we need.” I dropped onto the couch and rubbed my forehead. “I guess we need to tape up the windows. We were fine during Hurricane Sandy—we’re in the C zone, above the flooding. We’ll be okay, Mom.”
She sighed. “Call me if it picks up. I’m worried about you.”
“I will. Bye.”
I filled Ollie in. He went back downstairs with a roll of masking tape we found in Kirk’s apartment. I had a hard time locking all the windows since their latches didn’t match up due to the building shifting. But I managed to force all of them in before using the tape to X out the windows in case the glass broke. By the time I was done, it was nearly one o’clock. I went upstairs and poured all the water from the containers into Kirk’s tub and sinks. I replaced the containers and went back to my apartment to watch the storm.
Over the next few hours, the skies darkened even more, and the wind picked up significantly. Rain was coming down in sheets. I emptied the pans and buckets a few more times, filling three apartments’ tubs and sinks. I boiled a large pot of water then filled more pitchers. Zeke and I watched through the window until I saw a large puddle of water in the street near the dog park. I grabbed my binoculars and looked again. The storm drain was covered in garbage and debris and apparently clogged. Water had started filling the street around it. I scouted around and found two more storm drains. Those two weren’t as covered but would be soon. So much for not being in the flood zone. Without maintenance, the drains were no longer working, and the building could potentially flood. I ran downstairs and went to the basement. The floor was already covered in a light layer of water, and we still had hours of rain to come.
I knocked on Ollie’s door then waited a minute before knocking again. I pressed my ear to the door but didn’t hear any movement. I opened the door and called his name. No reply came, so I wandered in. The windows had been X’d out, but I didn’t see Ollie. I found him in the bedroom, asleep on the bed. I nudged him and cleared my throat. He finally stirred, confusedly rubbing his eyes.
“Sorry to wake you, but I think you need to move out of this apartment.”
He slowly pushed himself upright and shook his head. “I took one of those pain pills. Sorry I’m a little out of it. What did you say?”
“I think I was wrong about the flooding. The storm drains haven’t been cleaned and are clogging up. It’s already starting to flood, and the basement is taking in water. I don’t think it’s safe for you here on the first floor.”
He stared back at me, obviously trying to make sense of what I was saying.
“Let’s just gather up your clothes, and you can stay in Kirk’s apartment, across from mine on the top floor.”
“Okay,” he said with glazed eyes.
“When did you take that pill?”
“Maybe an hour ago? My ribs were screaming after taping the windows.”
He got up and wobbled but began stuffing some clothes into a bag. Once he had everything, we walked back upstairs with him pulling himself up to each level by grabbing the railing. I led him into Kirk’s apartment. Kirk had spent an entire year fixing his place up, and it was beautiful. The floors had been redone, there was all-new cabinetry, and his bed was huge and super comfy. He should be okay here. I walked him to the bedroom and told him to lie down. He went willingly and collapsed onto the bed. I watched him for a minute until he started snoring softly.
I went back to my apartment and curled up on the couch next to the fire, watching the storm with Zeke. After another round of emptying the containers, all the tubs and sinks except mine were filled. I washed a load of clothes and hung them out to dry in my dining room. The thunder started an hour after that, causing fear to churn in my stomach. The streets were covered in a couple inches of water flowing like a shallow stream. I looked for the body of the woman who’d committed suicide and found her still there, her T-shirt moving slightly in the water. I’d been avoiding that window, and looking at her brought tears to my eyes. A knock on my door made me jump. Ollie was on the other side, looking confused and holding a candle.
He smiled crookedly. “I woke up in another apartment. What happened?”
I opened the door wider, welcoming him in. Even though I was trying to keep my distance, the storm scared me, and I badly needed a distraction. As we walked to the living room, I saw one of my Post-It notes in the hallway. As slyly as possible, I plucked it from the wall and crumpled it. I glanced over my shoulder, but Ollie didn’t seem to have noticed—his attention was focused on the photographs on the walls. But maybe he was just being nice so I wasn’t embarrassed. I grabbed a few more notes along the way, wondering how many others I needed to locate and destroy. We sat down on the couch, and I filled him in on the past few hours. He looked out the window, but the rain was so heavy that we couldn’t see much more than a solid sheet of water. Ollie opened the window and pulled up the screen. The rain and thunder in the distance were so loud we had to yell to hear over them.
“It’s filling up quickly. Look over there,” he said, pointing to a gully across the street. The building across the street had water up to the second step of the stoop. “Was Hurricane Sandy like this?”
I shook my head. “No, Sandy was worse. I don’t think it rained this much, but the wind was stronger. But the drains were cleared, and there were teams monitoring everything. Now, the drains are clogged from months of neglect, and there are all those bags of recycling on the streets. We’re going to flood.”
He closed and locked the latch then looked at me, alarmed. “Thanks for coming to get me. It’s twice now that you’ve saved my arse.”
“It’s fine. We’ll be okay. Water won’t make it all the way up here, and we have enough water now to keep us going for longer than I thought. I filled all the tubs and sinks in the building. We should be good for a while.”
He nodded absentmindedly.
“I’m worried about Henry. I’m just hoping he managed to get into that apartment I told him about and that someone else didn’t find it first. There were a few apartments on the first floor that had broken doors, but that floor might flood. I looked outside but haven’t seen him.”
“Christ,” he said, rubbing his forehead in concern.
“Do you want to call your parents? We have to conserve battery power, but a quick call should be okay.”
He whipped his head toward me. “That would be lovely. Thanks. I haven’t spoken to them since the power went off. I’m sure they’re worried. I promise I’ll keep it short.”
I handed him my phone, thinking I should have told him my mom called his in case she mentioned it. But he’d already dialed and had the phone to his ear. I gave him some privacy and went to the kitchen with Zeke. I leaned against the counter. “What do you think, Zeke?”
He looked at me, whined, then turned his head toward Ollie and back at me. His ears went up, asking if we could keep Ollie.
I laughed. “I don’t know if he wants to be kept. But I think you’re right. He seems like an okay guy.”
A second later, Ollie popped his head in. “Who were you talking to?”
“Oh, no one, just myself.”
He looked at me funny. “My mom would like to talk to you, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.”
He handed me the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello, darling, thank god for you. Bless your heart for saving my Ollie. You have no idea how grateful we are. We’ve been so worried about him and didn’t know if he was dead or alive.” She sounded as if she had a stuffed nose, and I figured she’d been crying.
“I’m happy I could help. He can stay here until he figures out his next step.”
“Yes, he’s told me, and thank you for that too.” She paused. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Um, sure, go ahead.” I looked up to find Ollie watching me.
“How old are you, and where are you from?”
“I’m thirty-eight. I grew up in Northern California.” I looked over at Ollie again, and he had a slightly surprised look on his face. I wondered if it was because of my age since I looked quite a bit younger, or if he was surprised his mom had the audacity to ask me.
“Are you single?”
My cheeks warmed. I ventured a look back at Ollie, who seemed slightly embarrassed. “Yes, I am,” I said reluctantly.
“Oh perfect, so is my Ollie. Maybe you two will hit it off,” she said with a chuckle.
Are all mothers of single children this relentless?
“I’m sorry. I’m a domineering mother who can’t stand to see her children lonely. Forget I said that. You sound trustworthy and lovely. I won’t keep you any longer. Tell Ollie that I love him, and hopefully, we can chat again tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“Thanks again, dear. Talk to you soon.”
“Okay, bye.” I ended the call and looked at Ollie.
“Sorry about that. She’s really worried about me,” he said.
“I understand. My mom is, too, which is why you need to talk to her now,” I said with an ironic smile.
“After that, I owe it to you.”
I dialed my mom’s number and told her that she could talk to Ollie. I handed him the phone.
He looked at me warily but said, “Hello?”
I hoped my mom wasn’t bombarding him with questions about whether he was single, but all I could hear was “yes” and “no.” Finally, he handed the phone back to me.
“Hi.”
“I love him! He sounds so fancy and good looking.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t say more because he was standing right there, but I wanted to know what good looking sounded like to her. I told her about the flooding and moving Ollie up to the sixth floor. She was worried but also felt better that he was across the hall in case something went wrong. I hung up and turned to him. “Well, it looks like both of our parents approve.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I guess so.” After a pause, he asked, “So how have you been spending your days?”
“Reading, working out, that kind of thing. But it’s not easy, and I feel cabin fever settling in most days.”
“I can imagine. It’s been the same for me. Would you mind company?”
I paused, mentally testing the strength of my inner walls. Finding them secure, I said, “I would love company.”
“By the way, what’s with all the marks on the wall?” He pointed to my tick wall. “What are you counting?”
“Oh. Just keeping track of time passing, ya know?”
He nodded.
“I saw it while watching The Shawshank Redemption and thought it would help to keep time straight in my head. We are kind of like prisoners here,” I said with a wry smile.
He gave a short laugh. “You’re right about that. I found something in that apartment when I was looking for a lighter to light the candles. Be right back.”
I watched him retreat, wondering what it could be. I’d scoured all the drawers and cupboards, but I guess I could have missed something. He came back and opened his palm, a baggie of popcorn kernels dropping from his fingertips.
“Oh my god! Popcorn! That’s incredible.”
“The baggie had fallen down behind the drawer. It’s not much, but it should be enough for a bowl, don’t you think?”
I excitedly made us popcorn, and the three of us snuggled up on the couch near the fire, noting the thunder rumbling in the distance. Zeke was happily tucked in between the two of us, Ollie and I feeding him pieces of popcorn here and there. Then I spotted my “shake your money maker” Post-It on the wall behind Ollie. I felt my face flush in embarrassment even though he hadn’t noticed it—he would have said something. My fingers itched to snatch it off the wall. I didn’t even hear the last thing he said because I was too busy concocting a plan to extract that note before he saw it. I absentmindedly nodded in response to whatever he’d said.
I noticed him wince when he tried to lean forward.
“Let me get you a pain pill.”
He looked as if he might protest but then fell back on the couch with his eyes closed. I took that second to reach behind him and pull the note from the wall and quickly crumple it in my pocket. I exhaled and smiled at the absurdity of that note. I brought him the pills, and he took half of a Percocet, not wanting to be so out of it again. We both turned to look out the window to check the flooding progress.
“It’s getting quite high now, isn’t it?” he asked, looking over at me. In just a few hours, the water had climbed up another step of the stoop across the street.
“Yeah, this is about how high it was down by the water after Hurricane Sandy. And we’re only halfway through this one.” I became uncomfortably aware of how close our faces were and sat back down on the couch.
He looked at me for a second before following my lead. “We’ve never had anything like this in London. The Thames barrier burst once and flooded, but the water didn’t come up much past the pavement. Should we go downstairs and see if it’s made it inside?”
“That’s a good idea. There was about an inch in the basement earlier. I’m sure it’s higher now.”
We walked downstairs with Zeke and candles to light the way and both felt relieved when we reached the first floor to find no sign of water. But when I opened the basement door, we immediately saw the water, which had risen to cover about a third of the steps. I looked over at Ollie, alarmed.
His eyes were wide, and his mouth gaped open. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s that high already. Should we go outside and try to clear a few storm drains?”
I opened the locked door and went to look out the window in the outer door. “No, it’s not safe out there. It’s halfway up my stoop.”
“But shouldn’t we at least try? We can’t just do nothing. What if the whole building floods?” He was really worked up and seemed annoyed by my unruffled attitude.
I turned back to him. “Ollie, even if we did manage to unclog a couple, they’d just get clogged again with the flow of debris from the water. It would only help for a short time. The water’s too high for us to go out there. It won’t make it up to the fourth floor. We should go back upstairs. There’s nothing we can do now.” He seemed reluctant to go, but I brushed past him and walked up the stairs. After a few steps, I looked back.
He was still there, looking bewildered.
“You coming?” I asked, giving him what I hoped was a confident look.
He started at my question then shook his head. “Yeah.” A loud bang outside drew our attention back toward the front doors. It sounded pretty close. More urgently, Ollie repeated, “Yeah” and hurried up the stairs behind me.
I heated up a few tortillas and brought out some more acorns. We sat on the couch and ate our lunch in silence for a few minutes.
He still appeared to be in shock over the flooding, so in an effort to take his mind off of it, I started talking. “I went to London once for work a few years back. We were trying to win over this big British client, so the whole team went to bat. I really liked it. I stayed at a small hotel on a side street, but it was so elegant. There were marble statues in the hallway and long, thick damask curtains in my room. I had afternoon tea at a restaurant that the concierge recommended around the corner, and I felt like I’d been dropped into the royal court. It was probably the best meal I had while I was there.”
“Do you remember the name of the restaurant? I might know it.”
I cocked my head and tried to conjure up the front of the place. “Roseville or Rosegarden? Something like that.”
“Rosewyld?”
“Yes! That’s it. It was in Knightsbridge near a clock shop.”
Ollie started laughing. “That’s one of my family’s restaurants! My mom used to take us there when we were young for etiquette lessons.”
“You’re kidding me! The scones were incredible, and they were served with clotted cream and jam. I was in heaven!” My mouth started watering.
“Their pastries are amazing. My siblings and I used to sneak biscuits when my mom wasn’t looking.”
“What was it like growing up in London?”
He smiled. “I had a pretty idyllic childhood. Living in London, there’s always something interesting to do. Much like here, I suppose. But my fondest memories are from our country house in Surrey. We’d go on the weekends when the weather was nice. My father and I would fish and hunt ducks. We always had dogs, and I got really involved with the animal shelters. I refused to allow my parents to buy the purebreds they’d always gotten before. They were exasperated with my insistence, but from that point on, they always got their dogs from the rescues I worked with. Is Zeke a rescue?”
“No, he’s not. I wish he was though.” Zeke lifted his head and glared at me. “I grew up with dogs too. We always had one or two running around. We had this one German shorthaired pointer named Maggie. One Halloween, she ate an entire pumpkin, including the seeds and stem, then promptly threw it up in the grass. My mom was so angry. Then next spring, out pops a pumpkin plant that produced four pumpkins in the exact spot Maggie threw up. I remember my dad saying, ‘Well I guess Maggie felt bad about eating that pumpkin. She’s paying it forward!’” We laughed at the story and my poor mom’s aggravation.
He seemed grateful for a distraction from the storm. After a pause, he asked, “So how did you get Zeke?”
“I was living with a boyfriend, but he didn’t want a dog. He’s more of a cat person. I begged and begged for over a year until finally I gave up. Then he got me Zeke for my birthday that year. I couldn’t believe it. Zeke is amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better dog,” I said, glancing at my dog, trying to make up for the rescue comment. He looked at me with that goofy look on his face that told me he loved me too. “I always wished that I’d rescued a dog though. One day, I’ll have a house with a big back yard and a bunch of dogs.”
Ollie grinned. “Yeah, I feel the same way. It’s been hard the past couple of years since I’ve been starting up different divisions of our company. I travel so much that it hasn’t been possible. But moving into the American market was supposed to be the last of it. I’d been planning on buying a house and getting a dog or two. But as you can see, that plan has been thoroughly derailed,” he said with an eyebrow arch. “I kind of want a pig too. There’s a farm near Surrey where they have these pig races in the spring. My mom took us every year, and I always told her I was going to own a pig.”
I laughed. “So now that you’ve quit your job, what are you going to do when this is all over? Do you think you’ll go back to your parents’ company?”
He scratched his chin and looked off into the distance. “You know, I’m not sure. I was good at what I did, and I liked working with my father. But I’ve realized lately that office jobs just aren’t for me. My younger brother already took over my position.”
“Oh, so there’s no job to actually go back to?”
“Before I found out about Caleb, I’d been putting a proposal together. We work with several charities, but I wanted to start one of our own and hopefully head that up. I had an idea for an animal sanctuary that would also offer various after-school programs for underprivileged kids. Ideally, at some point, we’d have multiple locations.”
“That sounds amazing. Zeke and I used to visit patients in the hospital. It was so rewarding to bring them even a small amount of happiness.”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping to do. Fundraising and public outreach can be done remotely, so I wouldn’t have to be in the office. I’ll start it on my own if my father doesn’t go for it. But I’m pretty sure I can convince him. He was really disappointed when I resigned. I think he’d do just about anything to keep me with the company.”
“You’d go back to London?”
“I’m not sure about that. Honestly, I haven’t been happy there in a long time. I’d convinced Caroline to spend weekends at our country estate. That’s all she’d agree to. But now? I don’t know. London doesn’t fit me anymore, and I’m not sure it ever did. I guess I’ll have to figure that out, but I’d love to live somewhere new,” he replied with a smile. “I heard you tell my mom you’re from California. What brought you to New York?” he asked.
“To be frank, I’m not quite sure,” I said with a smirk and raised eyebrows. “My entire family are small-town sort of people. They still live in the Bay Area within an hour of one another. I’m kind of the black sheep in that way. I knew I wanted to try out a big city, so I saved a bunch of money and moved. I didn’t have a job lined up. I didn’t know anyone here. My family was against the move. They didn’t understand my desire to move to a place as daunting as New York. When I think back, I can’t believe I had the courage to do something like that. I really had to pound the pavement and take any job I could find for a while. But I’m glad I did it. For the most part, I’ve loved it here. Before all this happened, that is.”
“That’s impressive. To go against your family’s wishes and move somewhere you know very little about... that takes guts.” He smiled. “You’re really self-reliant, aren’t you?”
“I guess I’ve had to be. You can’t make it in New York City without being able to take care of yourself, even if that means eating Top Ramen and working two jobs to scrape by. But I’m not sure I would have accepted help, anyway. I like doing things myself, and I wanted to see if I could make it on my own.”
“In that way, you remind me of my mom. Don’t get me wrong, we had maids and chefs, but my mom didn’t rely on them like all my friends’ parents did. We had chores every day. Granted, it was something simple like putting away our clothes or cleaning our rooms, but it still gave us a sense of personal responsibility. She’d send the chef home and make dinner every night. And we never had nannies. She did all the work herself. She grew up rather poor and had to fight for everything until she met my father. She’s a force, to say the least.”
“She sounds like someone I’d get along well with,” I said, smiling.
“Oh, you’d love her. I guess she’s why I’ve had such a hard time connecting with the women in my circle back home. Most of them expect to be waited on hand and foot because they always have been. I’m not knocking them for it, but for me, there’s just no gumption there. You’ve got gumption written all over you. I like that.”
My face warmed at the compliment, and I shifted a few inches back on the couch.
“What about now—if you make it out of here, I mean? If New York is livable again, will you come back?”
I took a second to think about it, looking out the window at the buildings. “I don’t know. I want to say yes, but there’s also a big part of me that’s ready to move on. I feel like I’ve done what I wanted to do here. Who knows? Maybe I’ll move somewhere completely different, like you.”
He raised an eyebrow and smiled, stifling a yawn. I went to the bathroom, using some of the rainwater to flush the toilet. When I came back, he’d fallen asleep, his arms crossed on his chest and his head lolling to the side. I took a moment to really look at him. He was handsome even with the bruises and swelling. I inspected his strong jawline, his large but nicely shaped nose, and wide-set eyes framed by distinctive thick brows. Without thinking, I reached out and ran my finger along the scar in his eyebrow, silently wondering how he got it. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and I pulled my hand back quickly as though I’d been burned. I couldn’t believe I’d done that. Clearly, my emotional wall was on a lunch break.
He didn’t show any signs of noticing. He yawned. “The pill must have made me drowsy. Sorry.” He pulled up his shirt and inspected his ribs. The swelling was down quite a bit—hopefully, they were just badly bruised and not broken or fractured.
“Do you want to go lie down?” I asked.
Before he could answer, a large crack of thunder broke through the air, closer than before. His head snapped toward the window, and he was clearly shaken by the sound. He looked out for a minute before turning back to me. “No, I’m awake now. For a second, I thought I saw a plane go by. I think my mind is playing tricks on me.”
His words were oddly comforting. I wasn’t the only one imagining things. I wanted to ask him if he’d seen or heard strange things, too, but I wavered, worried that he would think I was crazy. But then I heard Julia’s words in my head: don’t let anyone else define who you are. “I think that’s been happening to me too. I’ve seen some things that I’m sure couldn’t be real.”
He turned his body toward me, his interest piqued. “Really? Like what?”
“I saw an ice cream truck driving down the street one day. It had the music on and everything. It also slowed down like it was trying to get people to come out of their apartments and buy a cone.”
His eyes widened, and he laughed. “You’re kidding me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know if that was a figment of my imagination or if it really happened. It seemed too weird to be real.”
“Not necessarily. I’ve seen some pretty odd things outside my building too. But you’re right, maybe I made those all up in my head to combat the emptiness. I saw a garbage truck driving down my street, and I thought it might actually stop to pick up garbage. But it didn’t. It just kept right on going. I also saw a whole family walking down the street, a man and a woman pushing a stroller. They seemed to just be out having an afternoon stroll. But I saw them from behind and couldn’t see into the stroller. Who knows what was really in it.”
“Oh, thank god!” I said, relieved, my hand on my chest. “I thought I might be going crazy.”
He laughed again. “Maybe we both are.”
“There are a few things that I know are real, such as some notes on a window in the distance, eerie notes about people being there and then not being there. I’ll show them to you when the storm is over. And in the hallway, have you seen that hand on the window?”
“Yes! I almost asked you about it. It’s a dead person, right?”
“I think so. It’s been there for weeks. Just showed up one day. I think it’s an old man.”
“That’s so sad but also creepy to have to see that hand all the time.”
“I try not to look over there.”
He paused, watching me. “I can see someone in the window on the top floor. Not very well, but someone on a bed, I think?”
My stomach dropped, and tears stung my eyes. I put my head down for a second, trying to compose myself. When I looked back at him, his brows had come together in worry. I opened my mouth then closed it, trying to figure out where to begin without completely falling apart.
“There were two young girls, Julia and Emma, who lived in that apartment. They died.” My voice broke, and I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling thick. “Their mom was sick, and when she died, it was just the three of us. We’d have long talks across the courtyard and watch movies together. We even had a snowball fight during that snowstorm. They were so cute. Julia, the older one, is on the bed in the window. I sang to her while she passed.”
“Oh god, I’m so sorry. That must have been tough.” He put a hand on my arm.
“Yeah, it was,” I said, wiping away tears and pulling my arm away. “I took photos of them every day. Want to see?”
“I’d love that.”
I walked over to grab my camera, wondering how it would feel to look at the photos, to see the girls again. I’d avoided my camera since Julia died, but part of me thought it would be a good thing. Our relationship helped me in so many ways, and I felt grateful to have had them at all. My mind wandered to the two men who broke in, but I instantly darted away from that thought. I didn’t feel good about what I’d done even if my actions had kept the girls safe. I wasn’t ready to tell him that yet. If he thought it was my fault, I didn’t think I could take that kind of judgment. Not yet, anyway, especially since I would have agreed.
I brought my camera back to the couch, and we scrolled through the photos. I told him stories about each one. It was sad to look at them and trace the time we’d had together, but it also felt good to finally talk to someone about it. My emotions were still raw, but telling Ollie about the girls felt like slowly placing a bandage over that wound.
When we were done, we checked the progress of the storm again. It was dark and harder to see how the flooding was progressing, but I saw across the street that the short stoop was completely immersed. We ran downstairs and were shocked to see that the first floor held a light layer of water. Another crack of thunder pierced the air. We looked at each other uneasily and walked back upstairs. My living room windows were low to the floor and reached almost to the ceiling. We stood on the windowsill and watched the lightning attack Manhattan. It was beautiful and creepy at the same time. We stood, mesmerized by the light show, until we both grew tired. We said goodnight at the door, promising to leave our doors unlocked in case something happened. I walked back inside and called my mom.
She answered breathlessly, “Oh, good. I was starting to get worried. How’s your building? Is it flooded?”
“It’s starting to, yeah. The storm is in the city now. It should hit us sometime in the middle of the night. But we’ve got enough water to fill all the tubs and sinks, so that’s good.”
“Honey, call me if anything happens, even if it’s the middle of the night. I’ll probably be up all night worrying about you, anyway.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you know if anything goes wrong. I’m tired, so I’m gonna go to bed. It’ll all be over by morning.”
“I know. It’s just hard being so far from you. But I trust you, and I trust your instincts. I’ll do my best to get some sleep. Call me first thing in the morning if I don’t hear from you tonight, just to tell me you’re okay.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too. Goodnight, sweetheart.”