I wasn’t looking for a friend, but Jo just inserted herself right into my life, and I’m grateful for it, even if I sometimes don’t know exactly what to do with her and her enthusiasm for everything. She makes me feel normal for the first time since Allie died, and all she’s asked from me in return is that I show up. So even if I’ve barely gone anywhere except for work in all the time I’ve lived in New York, and even if I still find people generally irritating and would rather stay in if at all possible, showing up is what I’m going to do. For her.
“I’m here, even if I’m not sure exactly where here is.”
She smiles even wider as she bounces on her toes and wraps her arms around my waist. It took me a minute to get used to the way Jo is a touchy-feely kind of friend. I used to be that kind of person too, but then my fiancée died, and I got so many sympathy hugs and shoulder squeezes and pats on the back that I lost interest in anyone touching me in any way at all. But I can’t deny how much I’ve missed this kind of physical contact. I like the way she feels solid when I put my arms around her, and the way she fits against me. I wonder what other simple things I’ve missed out on in my two dark years—and whether this summer with Jo will remind me.
She breaks away, beaming up at me and pointing behind her. “Here is my favorite food truck in all of New York. I literally screamed when I looked it up and saw it was still open. When I was in college, I used to come all the way up from the West Village at least once a week just for this.”
I look behind her at the big white truck with the wordsYankeeDoodleDandy’sprinted in massive blue, block letters. I’m not exactly an unadventurous eater, but I’ve never completely understood the allure of a food truck. “Just for what, exactly?”
“Um, only for the very best chicken fingers on the entire island of Manhattan. Maybe in the entire world.”
“Chicken fingers from a food truck?”
“One hundred percent yes.” She grabs my hand and drags me to the back of the long line. “You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten middle of the night chicken fingers from Yankee Doodle Dandy’s food truck. Nine isn’t exactly the middle of the night, but it’s close enough. Oh, and also, you have to get all the dipping sauces. Chicken fingers are only good with the dipping sauces.”
I squint at the menu, but it’s too dark to read much of anything, even with the bright lights of Midtown shining down. “What kind of dipping sauces are we talking about? Because if there’s no honey mustard then there’s no way these can be the best chicken fingers in the world.”
Jo links her arm through mine as we move up with the line. “Oh, Jordan. Not just honey mustard. Hot honey mustard. And they cut their own french fries.”
I ignore the zing I always feel when she touches me, used to it now. “Okay then, I’ll allow it.”
“You’ll allow it, and you’ll thank me for it.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting on a low wall outside of Rockefeller Center in absolute culinary heaven. “You were so right. I think this is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” I say, finishing my tenth chicken finger and picking up my Dr. Pepper.
“Right?” Jo asks, licking buffalo sauce off her finger. “I mean, I generally have the palate of a preschooler, but I think these are, like, objectively amazing.”
“What’s your favorite food?”
She looks like she’s really thinking about the answer for a second before she talks. “See, the thing about me is that I can never pick a favorite of anything. I love all kinds of different things for all different kinds of reasons. I love food truck chicken fingers when it’s late at night and I’m in New York. Tacos are my favorite comfort food after a hard day. Chinese food is my favorite when I’m a little drunk, and I love pizza when it’s movie night. And don’t even get me started on dessert. There are so many desserts onJo’s Favorite Thingslist it would probably be better to ask me what dessert isn’t my favorite, and the answer is anything with fruit that isn’t apple. Fruit belongs nowhere near dessert except I can tolerate apple in the fall because apple is absolutely the superior fall flavor. Pumpkin anything is gross.”
Jo dunks another chicken finger in honey mustard and bites into it casually, like she didn’t just make my brain race a thousand miles a minute, trying to keep up with her. “Jo’s Favorite Thingslist?”
She nods, swallowing. “Yep. It’s a very unscientific list of all my favorite things. It changes often and without warning, and it’s a little unwieldy, because I love a lot of things.”
“Is it written down somewhere?”
She shakes her head. “It sure isn’t. I tried once, but then I got all stressed out trying to break it into categories and favorite things shouldn’t be stressful, so I stopped writing it down, and now I just keep it in my head.”
“What if someone wanted to know what, say, your favorite desserts were at any given time?”
She flushes a little and gives me that grin again. “Well, that someone would just have to ask me.”
“Hurricane, I think you are the most fascinating person I’ve ever met.”
“For sure I’m the most chaotic.” She flicks a braid behind her ear and crumples up her napkin, tossing it into her empty chicken container.
She might be right about being the most chaotic person I’ve ever met, but as I watch her start to gather up our trash, I realize that, for reasons I can’t quite understand, her particular brand of chaos is exactly what I need in my life right now. “I don’t know. I kind of like your chaos.”
Jo looks up, smiling. “J, I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She reaches down and digs around in the bag she has hanging across her body, handing me a Fireball and a tiny magnifying glass.
I take them from her, looking down at both. “A magnifying glass?”
She shrugs. “We needed something to document this installment of the J’s Summer of Fun. We’re searching for clues, so, magnifying glass.”
“I thought the map you gave me at breakfast was for the scavenger hunt.”
She pops her Fireball in her mouth, talking around it. “It was supposed to be, but then I was in this toy store this morning buying presents to send to the babies, and I saw the tiny magnifying glass, and how could I possibly pass that up?”
