“If you keep talking, I’m going to pick up the pace,” Kenny said, her breath becoming more visible. She was frozen to the bone but wasn’t going to give Colby the satisfaction of letting him in on her secret.
He surprisingly obeyed. She planned to turn around and allow him to speak again when they reached the Pier i Café around West Seventieth Street, so she embraced the silence for a few more moments. During the warm months, this was the spot she would come to write and watch sunsets. While she had been furiously writing the romantic comedy since she returned from Hilton Head and was close to submitting the manuscript to Muffin Evans for review, Kenny realized that she hadn’t watched or noticed a sunset since the night she ran into J.P. at the Harbour Town Lighthouse. She had a sudden yearning to see one, but the root of the yearning was hard to decipher. Was she craving a beautiful production by Mother Nature or was she still thinking about J.P.?
“What is cuffing season anyway?” Kenny asked as she pivoted on her heels, queuing to Colby that they had reached the halfway point in their workout and invited him to converse.
“It’s already halfway through, so you best hop on the bandwagon soon, Queen. According to theNew York Postit’s the time between October and March when people look for cold-weather partners to keep them warm. Relationships usually peak around Valentine’s Day.” He jumped on the chance to engage once again.
“So, it’s like a socially acceptable, casual hook-up period?” she interpreted, like she was interested.
“Yass, you get it, girl! It’s a generational movement. That same article also said that airports are the hottest places to meet people, which is perfect for your lifestyle. Maybe you can add Mile High Club member to your long list of travel credentials this cuffing season.” He excitedly clapped.
“Colby!” Kenny snapped.
“National Car Rental Executive Club, Delta Gold Medalion Status, Marriott Bonvoy Ambassador Elite,” he rattled while ticking off his fingers.
“As much as I would love to be a success story profiled onPage Sixfor heeding their profound dating advice, I’m not participating in cuffing seasonoradding anything to my travel resume. But I wasthinkingabout texting Ed,” she cautiously said. “He’s a nice guy. I should’ve given him a second chance.” She gazed out over the water wondering if she could be fair to Ed or herself on a second date; or if her mind would be somewhere in South Carolina.
“You are full of surprises today, you little minx! You finished the manuscript for your romantic comedyandyou’re ready to date again. I love it! I love it all!” Colby threw his left arm around Kenny’s neck and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m proud of you.”
“You’re just saying that because you know those two actions will make your boss and cube mate happy, paving the way for manageable days at the office for you,” she nudged his side from under his headlock.
He halted and gripped her shoulders with both of his hands. She was slightly taken aback.
“I mean it, Kenny. I’m proud of you. I don’t know what happened down in Hilton Head; I don’t know what was in the water or what was in the air, but it agreed with you.” He hugged her tightly.
Kenny stood still, and let Colby embrace her while a few soft tears slid down her face.
Forty-Two
To-Do Monday, January 22
Confirm dinner date/location with Luke + Lonnie Locke (propose week of 2/5 in Stamford)
Arrange travel for Boise, Idaho trip (Dr. Love’s codefendant arraignment, 2/14)
Hand-deliver manuscript to Border Books before 4:00 p.m.
Text Ed
Kenny ripped the daily to-do list from the pink Post-it pad and stuck it under the appropriate date in her new planner. She unplugged the percolator, tossed her Swell bottle in her black Longchamp bag, and popped in her earbuds so she could listen to the Network Editorial Call on the commute to the office. She was passing Amsterdam Books when she felt the phone vibrate in her bag. The morning was bitter and blustery, and she was bundled up for her walk; the last thing she wanted to do was take off her mittens and expose her hands to the cold while she dug around for her phone. But she did. She reverted to the life of being available to the world on demand, the minute she turned on her phone while taxing on the tarmac at JFK four months ago.
She dug around the deep bag for a few seconds and when her numb fingers couldn’t locate the phone, she stepped inside the bookstore whose front door welcome sign hadn’t even been flipped to “Open.” She took off her left mitten and found the phone with the hand that still had some feeling in it.
Text from Hailey: I’m rly worried abt Uncle Johnny. Can u pls call me?
Kenny’s stomach dropped. Seeing the name “Hailey” startled her.
She had a busy day and few weeks ahead. She couldn’t get sidetracked by going down any rabbit holes or games of “let’s catch up” that Hailey would inevitably propose. On the other hand, Kenny could easily nip that in the bud with a simple, “Sorry, wrong text!” response. Given the formality of the message compared to Haileys’s usual text speak, Kenny thought whatever the situation was, it must’ve be serious and warranted a reply.
Text to Hailey: Hey Hailey! I hope everything is okay with your uncle. I think you have the wrong number. This is Kenny from NYC.
Text from Hailey: No, I’m hoping to talk 2 u. Uncle Johnny hasn’t been the same since you left w/o a goodbye. And Mr. C dropped dead of a heart attack soon after that. Pls call me.
Kenny fell back against the wall of books she was standing next to, and her bag slid down her arm andclanked!to the ground. The message was short but so much information was packed into it that Kenny’s brain didn’t know where to begin processing. The news of Mr. Cunningham’s death was heartbreaking. Although Kenny didn’t know the man, personally, she knew the impact he had on so many people and the void his death would leave in the community. Before Kenny could analyze what shethoughtthe other part of that message could mean, her phone lit up again.
Text from Hailey: J.P. is my uncle. I call him Uncle Johnny.
Kenny’s legs nearly gave out, and her lean sank to a squat, until she found herself completely seated on the dusty floor of the bookstore. When she peeled her eyes up from her phone, she realized she was in the children’s section and was eye level with theClifford the Big Red Dogseries. She burst into a fit of laughter and whimpers. None of it and all of it suddenly made sense.
