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A Heart in New York
New
York, to that tall skyline I come, flyin in from london to your door
New York, lookin down on central park Where they say you should not wander after dark New York, like a scene from all those movies A heart in New York, a rose on the street New York, you got money on your mind |
So, here's to you, New York
I looked out of the window to check on Annabelle. She had been sitting in her sandbox mere seconds before. And now, I couldn’t see her. I yanked the door open and ran out directly towards the swimming pool. I’d had nightmares about that damned pool since we’d moved into this house. I could taste the adrenaline hot and acrid in the back of my throat.
The pool spread before me empty. No baby floated face down and blue. I sighed in relief.
Still, where was Annabelle?
“Belle?” I called rushing around the side of the house to see if the gate had been carelessly left open. But as I rounded the house, I found the gate shut carefully.
I felt my pulse begin to race. I stood my back against the fence, my entire yard spread out before me and yet, no Annabelle.
“Annabelle?” I called, the panic plain in my voice. “Annabelle? Taylor?”
I ran into the house, my heart now pounding so hard that I honestly felt like it would break my ribs. “Taylor! Help me!”
I stopped listening for Taylor’s response. There was no sound inside the house. I stepped out back and screamed at the top of my lungs. The words were supposed to be Annabelle’s name, but there was no actual definition to the syllables. Just a shriek of fear and pain…
I ran around the house again and yanked the gate open. As I came around to the front of the house, I heard the barest tinkling of laughter. I rushed toward the street, toward the sound. “Annabelle?”
“Mommy…” Her small voice drifted to me. “Come and get us Mommy!”
“Where are you baby?” I called trying to slow my breathing enough to hear her soft voice in the distance.
“We’re over here…” A deeper male voice drifted towards me off to the right. I turned and headed towards the stand of trees that stood at the end of the circle.
“Thad?” I called recognizing the voice instantly. I stepped into the trees and saw him sitting on a fallen tree trunk. Annabelle sat next to him her elbows on his thigh, her chin resting in her hands. He held a small blue bundle in his arms. The bundle moved and wiggled like only a squirming baby can.
“Cleo, it’s time.” He said gently pulling the blanket back from the baby’s face. There in his arms lay a perfect, beautiful replica of Taylor as a baby. “It’s time…”
“Daddy!” Annabelle squealed in delight at the baby.
“Daddy!” The shrill voice cut through the half haze of sleep, jerking me unwillingly from my dream.
“Annabelle Beatrice Hanson!” Taylor scolded. “Damn it!” I heard him muttering under his breath. I slowly turned my face from the window to see what was going on. Taylor was sitting holding Annabelle in his lap and trying unsuccessfully to clean the chocolate pudding off the front of his shirt.
“Ooh, you said a bad word.” Annabelle observed with a reverence that belied her recent third birthday.
“Well, don’t tell Mommy.” Taylor said in annoyance.
“She won’t have to.” I said yawning hugely.
“Mommy!” Annabelle crowed in happiness that I was awake. “You’re awake!”
“Here,” Taylor said offering Annabelle to me.
“So are you.” I said accepting her into my lap as Taylor stood and stalked off towards the bathroom to see if he could get some of the pudding off his shirt. “You were supposed to take a nap, little missy.”
“I’m not tired.” Annabelle said her lip jutting out. “I’m too old for naps.”
“No, you’re not.” I said gathering her into my arms. I tried to fold her into the cradle of my arms. But she was too long.
“Zoë told me that three is too big for naps.” Annabelle protested even as she snuggled into my neck, her curly hair tickling my cheek.
“Remind me to thank Zoë for that.” I said taking her chubby hand into mine and threading her fingers through mine. “So, you spilled pudding on Daddy?”
“Yes and he’s mad.” She said simply.
And Taylor had been mad all morning really. I was dragging, Annabelle was being highly whiney and Taylor was just plain annoyed. I wanted to point out to Taylor that he was the one who had booked us on an early morning flight. But I didn’t think that would help his mood any.
As Annabelle drifted off to sleep, I thought back to the scene at our house as I tried to get all of us ready to leave for New York. Since Taylor had come home before Christmas, we had been the portrait of peace and harmony. Neither of us had had a harsh word for the other. I really was trying to think before I spoke and he seemed to appreciate that more than I had anticipated he would. But, it wasn’t like I wasn’t being honest with him; I was just trying to not react in such an extreme way. And it was amazing how my soft tones and less reactionary reactions helped foster a totally comfortable atmosphere in our home.
In fact as the holidays ramped up, Taylor and I were so totally moving in the same direction and getting along so well that we were able to not only complete each others sentences, but we were almost reading each others minds. I would suggest a gift for someone and he would laugh because that was the exact gift he had picked up. Or he would ask me if I’d responded to a party invitation and I would be able to say that I had. Zac even started answering our phone calls and calling us to check in every couple of days. Isaac and Emory sounded blissful each time they called. All in all, everything seemed to be looking up.
So, Christmas came and went just as it always did, loudly, crazily and with more gifts than should be allowed. Annabelle was spoiled beyond anything I could even imagine. The total end was when my parents gave her a pony and the stable to keep it in at their house. I guess that was one way to guarantee that they could see her at least three times at week, if not more. Annabelle needed some cousins or a sibling and quickly. Honestly, she was bored with opening gifts before she had opened even half.
On New Year’s Eve, we welcomed the year and celebrated Annabelle’s third birthday with a huge blowout party. And quite honestly, the next time she acts super spoiled, I will not wonder why. I sat there holding her warm body and thinking back to the drive home from that party.
“You know, this sort of wholesale adoration can’t be good for her.” Taylor said as he navigated the familiar streets.
“No, it can’t.” I said looking back at Annabelle strapped in her car seat. Her eyes were glazed over from the sugar high she was currently crashing from. “I mean it’s like the child is a rock star.”
“And look at the damage that did to me and my brothers.” Taylor said laughing.
“You’re not too bad.” I said smiling over at him. I reached over and grabbed his hand where is sat on his thigh. “In fact, I’d say you’re really good.”
“You think?”
“I know.” I said smiling at him.
“Damn woman!” He said shaking his head.
“What?” I asked.
“You are dangerous…” His eyes flicked momentarily up to the rearview mirror. “Do you think I can get her in bed without waking her.”
“I think it’s a possibility.” I said turning to check on her. Her eyes were open, but barely.
“I’m not sleepy.” She mumbled when she noticed me watching her.
“Of course you’re not.” I said wanting nothing more than to hold her in my arms and rock her to sleep.
“Cleo, we’re here.” Taylor said his voice low and close to my ear.
“Ugh,” I moaned realizing as I woke that I’d fallen asleep with Annabelle under my chin, so my neck had been totally twisted to the side. “I can’t move my neck…”
“Want me to take her?” He asked as he lifted her out of my lap.
“Thanks,” I said as I stood and stretched. I opened the overhead bin and started pulling our bags out. I grunted under the weight of his huge messenger bag loaded with all of his essentials including his laptop. “Unfortunately, that means I have to carry all the bags.”
“We’ll put her in the stroller.” Taylor said as he plucked his bag off my shoulder and hitched it onto his shoulder not currently occupied by Annabelle.
“You’re my knight in shining armor.” I said kissing him.
“I try.” He said as we walked up the gangway toward the main populace of JFK. “So, what do you think the odds are that Zac will stay with Annabelle so we can go out to dinner?”
“Actually, fairly high.” I answered as we cut through the mass of people waiting for their flights all over the world. “If we go early enough…”
“True.” Taylor said smiling down at me. “So, we have the whole city of New York out there waiting for us, what do you feel like? I was thinking maybe some sushi or Thai food…”
At the mention of food, my stomach rolled unhappily. “Uh…”
“Oh yeah, you aren’t feeling well.” Taylor said throwing his arm over my shoulders.
“Well, I’m hungry, I just don’t have an opinion.” I said as he laughed at me.
“You, Cleo January Burton Hanson, don’t have an opinion?” He asked incredulous.
“Yes, Jordan Taylor Hanson, I do not have an opinion on what we have for dinner tonight.” I asked pretending that I was offended by what he was implying.
“Seriously, can you take Belle?” He asked. “I need to note this date and time down for posterity. I also need to call Ike and let him know cause if I tell him after the fact there is no way he’ll believe me. Damn, I wish I’d had my video camera out to get actual proof.”
“Ha ha, you’re hysterical.” I said rolling my eyes.
“And everyone calls Zac the funny one.” Taylor said as we entered the baggage claim area. He stopped in front of a bank of seats. “Why don’t you sit here and I’ll go get our bags.”
“Did you get a car?” I asked as I settled onto the seat and accepted the offered baby.
“Naw, I thought we could just get a cab.” He said setting his laptop next to me. “So, when are Ike and Em coming to New York?”
“Uh, Em said they were flying in on the 16th.” I answered as the siren announcing our luggage went off.
“Okay…” Taylor said distracted by the sound. “What day is it?”
“Are you serious?” I asked my eyes getting narrow. I was hoping he was joking, because it was the 14th of January, which just happens to be my birthday.
“Why?” Taylor asked coolly.
“It’s the 14th.” I answered hoping to get a reaction out of him. He just nodded his eyes focused somewhere far off. “When did Zac get here?”
“Uh… I have no clue.” Taylor said watching as luggage starting falling onto the carousel.
“But you just said that he was going to watch Annabelle.” I said my eyes narrowing.
“I guess I was just assuming that he’s already here.” Taylor said.
“Tay, that’s why I asked you to call.” I said annoyed.
“Well, I forgot.” He said shrugging. He walked over to the baggage carousel and snagged Annabelle’s stroller off the carousel. As he popped the stroller open, he asked, “Why don’t you call him and ask?”
“I’ll do that…” I said trying to find the pocket I’d stuck my phone in as Taylor settled a sleeping Annabelle in her stroller. I continued to dig through my stuff as Taylor snagged the rest of our luggage. Soon, he was back with several bags as I still searched for my cell phone. “Tay, can I borrow your Blackberry?”
“Sure, where’s your phone?” He asked as he stacked our way too numerous bags onto a cart.
“My guess is on the counter in the kitchen where I set it after talking to Emory.” I said rolling my eyes. “My brain is totally somewhere else lately.”
“You were just busy this morning, it’s no big deal.” Taylor said as he pulled me up onto my feet. “It’s not like you’ve had nothing at all to do for the last couple of days… I really should have helped more with the getting ready.”
“Yes, you should have.” I said accepting his offered kiss. I took his phone and scrolled through to Zac’s phone number. I followed him slowly pushing Annabelle listening to Zac’s current ring tone and waiting for his voicemail to pick up.
“Talk to me Taylor!” Zac said in a very enthusiastic voice.
“Hey!” I said shocked that he answered. “What’s up?”
“Cleo! Happy birthday!” Zac crowed into the phone.
“Thanks!” I responded happily. “Since I left my phone in Tulsa, you are the first person to actually wish me a happy birthday.”
“Ah, my bonehead brother forgot?” He asked laughing.
“Yes, he has or he’s doing a really good job of pretending he doesn’t remember.” I said watching as Taylor stood on line for a taxi.
“He may surprise you with something spectacular.” Zac said sounding skeptical.
“Well, honestly, I don’t see that coming, but you never know.” I said stepping up next to Taylor. “Speaking of never knowing, where are you?”
“What?” Zac asked.
“Where are you?” I asked again.
“Ah, I’m in New York.” He said yawning. “Aren’t we meeting here?”
“Yeah, we are.” I said watching as Taylor waved a cab on. “What are you waiting for?” I demanded a little irritated.
“I want that minivan cab.” Taylor explained pointing to a cab that was back a couple cars, but was heading towards us.
“What?” Zac asked confused not aware that I was talking to Taylor.
“Oh, nothing, I was just talking to Taylor.” I answered looking around at the mass of people swarming around me. I suddenly began to feel distinctly claustrophobic and uncomfortable a wave of unease washing over me likes a cold sweat. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of panic I’d had earlier in my dream. I shivered and reached down to feel the down of Annabelle’s hair. And just like that, the feeling was gone. “But that brings me to why I called, will you be around tonight?”
“I should be.” Zac answered, I could hear a shrug in his voice. “Why?”
“Tay was wondering if you’d stay with Belle so we could go out to dinner.” I asked shivering in the cold of the New York winter.
“Why not?” Zac answered. “I haven’t see her for a while and I’m sure she has plenty of stories of the abuse you’ve heaped on her to share.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty much the most abused child ever.” I said quietly watching as Taylor loaded our bags into the back of the mini-cab.
“Where are you?” Zac asked.
“At the airport,” I answered yawning, my early morning catching up with me.
“Cool,” Zac said distracted. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Yes you will!” I said enthusiastically. “Bye.”
“Bye.” Zac replied as I hit the end button and slid Taylor’s phone into the breast pocket of his jacket.
“So?” Taylor asked as he lifted the car seat part of the stroller up and out, carefully settled it onto the seat of the van. He strapped Annabelle in carefully, leaning down and planting a kiss on her forehead.
“He’s here at the brownstone already and perfectly willing and able to watch the rug rat tonight.” I said climbing in after him and putting my seatbelt on. “So, we can definitely go out tonight.”
“Good.” Taylor said putting his arm around me. I settled against him and sighed.
“I had the strangest and scariest dream in the plane.” I said as the thick airport traffic slowly melted away into turnpike traffic.
“Yeah?” Taylor said as he snuffled into my hair. “What was it about?”
“I was home and I couldn’t find Belle.” I said shivering as the memory of the dream came back to me. I felt the cold sweat and panic rising up again. “I was searching for her everywhere and she was just nowhere to be found.”
“Ugh, sounds like one of my nightmares.” Taylor said pulling me in even closer. “I’ve had a few where I can hear her in a crowd and I can’t find her anywhere and there are all these hands dragging at me…”
“I think what is staying with me is that when I found her, she was with Thad.” I whispered not really wanting to explore that idea too deeply. “And it wasn’t the Thad I knew, but a Thad that never was. He was a man… He was my age.”
“Wow.” Taylor asked.
“Yeah.”
“I think that he will always be sixteen for me,” Taylor began. “But he is such a part of you…”
“He is and he always will be.” I said quietly. “The strange thing was he was holding a baby.”
“A baby?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah, a baby that looked so completely like you as a baby it took my breath away.” I said trailing off. “And he told me that it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
“Maybe it’s time for that little boy.” I whispered an unexpected tear broke free of my lashes, landing on his hand.
“Ah Cleo, don’t worry, it will happen.” He said kissing my cheek.
“I know, it’s just this flu or whatever has me all sorts of emotional.” I said laughing at my silly outburst. “I guess I can understand more what Emory has been feeling.”
“Yeah, thank heavens it’s only been months, not years for us.” Taylor said rubbing my arm. “We’ll be home soon and you can take a real nap, not one all scrunched in the corner of a plane.”
“It’s really weird to think of someplace in New York as home.” I said as we moved into the traffic heading uptown on Broadway. “New York was always somewhere far away and exotic…”
“You are such a Tulsa girl.” Taylor said laughing. “But now, you are sort of a New Yorker…”
“Kind of.” I said thinking of the home waiting for me. I don’t think we ever planned on buying a place in New York, but in the last couple of years, we had spent so much time in New York that we, well, more appropriately, the band had decided that they needed more than just hotel rooms. They decided they needed a home base. So, they had spent several weeks in the city looking at apartments and condos and all sorts of questionable places that could be turned into offices and/or someplace to live.
Finally, one night Taylor and I had been wandering around just up from the Trump Tower. As we had pushed Annabelle through the vital alive neighborhoods, we came upon a pretty desolate and decrepit brownstone with a “For Sale” sign on the front door. It was five stories tall and had a store front two steps down from street level. It had a lovely façade and the building seemed to call out to me.
Taylor and I walked down to the storefront and noticed that there was someone inside. I knocked quietly a stooped white haired old man opened the door for me. He waved us in and started to tell the story of this building. His name was Yakov Stein. He had owned if for sixty years.
In his younger days, the street level had been his shop. He had been a tailor, sewing the most beautiful and famed suits of that day. He had dressed men in Zoot Suits and Sharkskin suits, each of them handmade lovingly. He told us about making suits for the gangsters down in Little Italy and for the drug lords from Harlem. He’d seen mayors and governors wearing his suits on television. He walked us along a hallway pointing out the pictures of the famous and infamous in the gorgeous handmade suits.
He’d led us up a hidden back stairway to the house. A large kitchen dominated the first floor; he told us of his family. He reminisced lovingly of many meals that had been served in this room, all cooked by his darling Rebecca. A single tear escaped as he spoke of the woman he called “the heart of New York.” He regaled us with stories of the parties they had thrown, of the one year they’d had over one hundred people in the living room for Passover, of the lives and deaths that had been celebrated in this one room. He boasted that he and his wife had raised nine children in this brownstone. All of his children had gone to college; all were doctors and lawyers, powerful men and women.
Sadly, none of who were in the least interested in a run down old brownstone. But that was good news for Taylor and I. As we ascended the stairs, I fell more and more in love with not just the house, but with the ghosts of those who had grown up in these rooms. As we walked into the large rooms on the top floor, I knew that even if the others weren’t sold on this house, I was. There was a spirit that was undeniable. As I stood in the library looking at the walls of books, I thought to myself, “this will always be the heart of New York for me too.” Before Taylor and I had left, we’d had a cup of warm tea and had made him an offer on the entire building, furniture and everything.
Soon, we were moving into the rooms filled with the ghosts of love, bringing our living love. We hardly changed a single thing in the house. Diana, Emory and I cleaned all of the hardwood floors on our hands and knees. We washed walls, adding new paint where it was necessary. We brushed the ancient wallpaper, trying to save as much as we could. We scrubbed every inch of Rebecca’s kitchen bringing all the white tile and chrome back to a brilliant shine.
When time came to assign rooms, Taylor and I were given the fifth floor. Everyone said we should have these beautiful rooms with the library and small balcony, because we had found it. The first night we slept our new, New York bedroom, I dreamt of Rebecca and Yakov. As they danced in my dream, Rebecca smiled at me. At the end of the dance, she walked over and handed me a key and whispered, “Fill my house with love” and pressed a key into my hand. As she and Yakov left the room, I opened my palm to see a big old key with the head in she shape of a heart. When I woke the next morning, I knew I was home.
Now, when we went to New York, we had somewhere to stay that felt like home. Somewhere that Annabelle could play and where I could create the home-cooked meals we all seemed to miss while staying in a hotel. As we headed to the brownstone, I felt the same wave of something cold and uncomfortable skitter up my spine. As I shivered Taylor’s arm tightened around me.
“Are you okay?” He asked feeling the trembling under his arm.
“Yeah, just a little wiped out.” I said yawning hugely.
“Well, 4:00 a.m. is very early.” He said catching my yawn and answering it with one of his own. “We’ll have to go to dinner early, early!”
“Sounds good.” I said closing my eyes again. “After we take a long, long nap.”
“Isn’t it funny how badly we want naps now?” Taylor commented quietly not really asking a question but making a very true comment. Soon, I noticed that the cab was no longer rumbling with movement. I cracked one eye and recognized the comforting façade of the brownstone. “We’re home.”
“Good,” I said unfolding myself under Taylor’s arm and stretching. Annabelle was making distinctly unhappy noises. She was getting angry about being pent up for so long. “Hey beautiful, do you want to see Uncle Zac?”
“Zac’s here?” She asked as I lifted her out of the car seat and setting her on the sidewalk.
“He is!” I said matching her enthusiasm. She was jumping up and down in excitement. “And he’s excited to see you…”
“Come on Daddy!” She said grabbing at his hand. “Let’s hurry!”
“Yeah Daddy, hurry!” I said watching as he tried to get most of the bags into his arms. I laughed as I took several of the bags off his hands and followed him up the steps to the front door. He set the bags down around a giddily dancing Annabelle as he fumbled into his pocket and came out with a set of keys. He had a hard time fitting the key into its hole because Annabelle was worrying the handle trying to get in as fast as possible. Once the door was open, Annabelle burst into the foyer with her usual abandon, she didn’t head up the steps toward her room, but shoved her way into the large main room the door slamming back against the wall with a resounding bang.
Several things happened all at once and when I think back on this moment, they are all there standing out singular and separate. I know they all happened simultaneously, but still, they stand out as a series of solitary moments. First, the frosted glass in the door shattered and rained down in a tinkling shower of shards. This was not the safe, tempered glass, but was old, sharp glass. Second, Annabelle went sprawling across the floor, sliding hands first through the pool of glass. Next, Zac dropped the glass of milk he was holding onto the tile floor. The glass shattered with an astoundingly loud explosion.
Lastly, a pretty girl with hair the color of wet cement and hugely pregnant leapt off the couch.