Manhattan Dreaming, page 21
The barman pushed our drinks towards us. ‘From Matt, Merry Christmas.’ He stuck straws in the glasses, winked at Libby and walked off.
Libby grabbed me. ‘He is so hot. He’s equivalent to about five guys in Canberra. I think I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss my ankles.’
‘Well, you’ve changed your tune about men, but, good, go for it.’
‘But what about my track record?’ She took a long sip of her orange drink. ‘Are you sure he’s not gay?’
‘Matt … pst, come here.’ Matt walked over to us. ‘Is the new barman gay?’ I whispered.
‘No,’ he whispered back.
‘Does he have an unhealthy relationship with his mother?’ Libby whispered.
‘Highly unlikely, his mother died some years ago,’ Matt whispered to Libby.
‘Good.’
‘What?’ I was shocked.
‘I mean good he’s no Hamlet, not good his mother died. You know what I mean.’
‘Last question, Matt.’ Libby leaned in and grabbed Matt’s shirt. ‘Is he likely to drag me to New York’s equivalent of Fyshwick?’
‘That I can’t tell you, but hell, it’s New York, might just be fun to find out.’
‘You’re right. I’m in New York and what happens on tour stays on tour.’
‘She knows the drill, Loz,’ Matt said to me, and then turned to Libby. ‘You can come here any time.’
‘I like it here,’ Libby said, turning around to the bar again as she looked for the barman.
‘Any footy news from home, Matt?’
‘Off season, Loz, you’d know that. Is Fullofhimself coming over for Christmas?’
‘No, we’re not together any more.’
‘That’s good, I mean, not good – you know what I mean.’
‘I know what you mean.’ And I took a sip of my drink. It really was good that I wasn’t with Adam any more. My whole life was better. I was sleeping the best I had in years and seeing a thoughtful, generous, attentive man who I could also have a real conversation with. I’d always have a soft spot for Adam because he was my first love, and I didn’t really want to settle down with Cash, but I had truly moved on. I was living the life that Libby and Denise had said I could have in New York. I now believed I could have that real love – reciprocal, respectful love – one day. I touched my ‘Love needs faith’ pendant and toasted myself that I was finally in control.
‘Oh my god,’ I heard Libby shriek from the lounge room.
‘What?’ I said, shuffling out as fast as I could.
‘It’s snowing on Christmas morning. It’s so beautiful, I love it.’
She had her face crushed against the glass like a child.
‘Yeah, bit different from the dry heat of Canberra’s summer, eh?’
‘This is so magical! Let’s go outside, come on, go get dressed.’ Libby was back into organisation mode, but I didn’t mind. It was the perfect white Christmas morning.
On the street we bundled snow together, attempting to make our first snowman.
‘I think it should remain genderless, let’s just make a snowperson,’ Libby said, taking the exercise far more seriously than me.
‘Say New York cheesecake,’ I directed as I pointed the camera at Libby and our snowperson, who was wearing an old National Aboriginal Sporting Chance Academy beanie, a Sydney Swans scarf, a traditional carrot for nose, Oreo biscuits for eyes and a mouth made of red snakes, left over from Halloween.
As I put the camera back in my pocket I felt something hit me hard on the arm; it was a snowball and the fight had begun.
‘You will so pay for that, Libs!’ I threw one back in retaliation, hitting her on the knee.
‘Your aim is about as good as your ability to drink,’ she said, winding her arm up like she was going to bowl a cricket ball to me. I opted for the baseball pitch and we both threw at the same time, cracking each other in the chest, and fell about laughing. The next thing we knew there were snowballs coming from everywhere and kids appeared laughing and having fun.
‘That’s for talking funny,’ one child in a red jacket said, throwing a small snowball at me.
‘Ah, yes, I probably do. You better throw another one at my friend too.’ The children all laughed as Libby and I pretended to be wounded, falling about for their Christmas pleasure.
After only a few minutes Libby and I had had enough and we bid farewell and headed back upstairs.
We sat down with coffees and looked at the carefully wrapped presents sitting under our small Christmas tree. It was all we could manage after walking up the stairs.
‘Well, everyone will be in bed at my place now,’ I said, ‘or close to it. Mum said they were having a barbecue and all the rels would drop by during the day. Dad splashed out and got some seafood and Mum was making a massive pavlova. God, I’d kill for a pav today.’
‘Let’s make one,’ Libby said. ‘We’ve got everything in the fridge – eggs, cream, strawberries.’
‘I think I’ve got a tin of passionfruit somewhere in the cupboard. What a great idea.’ I was already looking forward to the pav but the idea was making me feel homesick and Libby could tell straight away.
‘Don’t worry, tidda, you’ll be back home soon enough. In the meantime, I have some pressies for you from Emma, Denise and your family.’ And she went to the tree and piled them together.
I unwrapped everything slowly, savouring every bow and piece of curling ribbon. Emma had sent me a coat pin made by an Aboriginal jewellery designer in Brisbane and Denise had sent a photo-frame with pink crystals around the edges. Mum and Dad had sent me some money to take to the factory outlets in New Jersey that Libby had Googled and told them about, and Max had sent me a pair of fluffy slippers in the shape of frogs that were the kind of thing kids would wear but in an adult’s size. I loved them and put them on straight away.
‘Take a photo of me to send back, will you.’ I handed Libby the camera.
We then swapped our own gifts. I gave Libby the choker I’d bought from Nate and the Greek palmette velvet scarf that I bought at the Met when I’d first arrived. She loved it, and true to form started explaining to me, ‘Did you know that the palmette is one of the most frequently used motifs in classical art of all media and periods?’
‘Really? You don’t say?’ I said cheekily.
‘Well, there’ll be plenty back home that don’t know,’ she said, tying the scarf around her neck. ‘Now open yours.’
She handed me an awkward-shaped present that looked to have been difficult to wrap. I ripped the paper off to find a funky chocolate brown suede handbag that I knew would go with everything. ‘This is absolutely perfect. I love it. Bus Depot Markets?’
‘Bus Depot Markets,’ she confirmed. ‘But wait, there’s more.’
Libby got up and went to the fridge, rummaged around for a minute and came back with something in a plastic bag. Inside it was a package wrapped in Christmas paper.
‘Oh my god? How did you manage this?’ It was four packets of Mersey Valley cheese which I had flippantly mentioned I missed in an email to her. ‘I can’t believe you got it here and into the fridge without me knowing. My life in New York is now complete.’ We had chunky toast with vegemite and sliced cheese done under the griller and wondered what our families back home would be doing.
With our snowperson, breakfast and pressies out of the way, we moved into the kitchen and started cooking up a storm. Together we prepared roast turkey with all the trimmings, including Libby’s ‘sensational stuffing’ and our New York-style pavlova for dessert. The one thing I hadn’t left behind in Canberra was my appetite.
Cash arrived at 1 pm with Christmas pudding and wine and chocolates.
‘Merry Christmas, beautiful,’ he said as I opened the door. He put his bag on the ground and hugged and kissed me passionately before he realised Libby was sitting at the dining table.
‘Sorry, I didn’t see you there,’ he said, slightly embarrassed.
‘Don’t be sorry.’ She stood up as Cash made his way around the table to her. ‘I’m Libby or Libs,’ she said, turning her cheek for Cash to kiss it.
‘Welcome to New York. I believe you’ve already been painting the town red, black and yellow.’
‘Wow, you’ve got our colours down pat! And yes, we’ve been shaking up the city a little, but we’ve got a long way to go.’
‘Well, I look forward to hearing all about your planned adventures, but I need to put some things in the kitchen first,’ he said as he picked his parcels up off the floor. ‘Do you need me to do anything, Lauren? Carve the turkey perhaps?’
‘I’d love you to do that for us. To be honest, I have no idea where to start with a turkey. We usually have seafood or a barbie for Christmas.’
‘Consider it done,’ he said as he walked off.
‘Oh my god,’ Libby said, dragging me to her, ‘he is wonderful, lovely, gorgeous! Keep him please, I’m telling you! You can keep this one, okay?’
I laughed, pulling myself out of her grip. ‘He is lovely. I like him, a lot.’
‘What’s not to like?’ Libby said, peering into the kitchen as Cash was getting the turkey out of the oven.
‘I better go see he’s all right.’
In the kitchen Cash had it all organised, which impressed me. I’d never really been much of a cook, and admired anyone who was. I poured a glass of wine and stood next to him.
‘I have to tell you something,’ he said, taking the glass from my hand, putting it on the kitchen sink and taking my face in his hands. ‘I love you. I’ve missed you these past days and I realised that I was in love with the most wonderful woman on the planet. I woke up this morning feeling blessed that I was spending Christmas Day with you.’ And then he kissed me before I had the chance to say anything.
‘It’s a dry argument out here,’ Libby sung out, breaking our kiss.
‘That means her glass is empty,’ I said to Cash, who looked confused.
‘You go top it up, I’ll bring the turkey out.’ He pecked my lips, handed me the bottle and I went into the dining room, still overwhelmed by the preceding revelations.
We stuffed ourselves stupid with lunch and pavlova and the Christmas pudding and chocolates that Cash insisted we also try. It was all delicious and I hated to admit to myself that while I missed my family, it was one of the loveliest Christmas Days I’d ever had.
‘I have a little something for my two favourite Aussie women,’ Cash said, putting gifts on the table.
‘Something for you, Libby,’ he said, handing her a bottle of champagne.
‘My fave, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is going straight in the fridge,’ she said, as she walked out to the kitchen.
‘And this is for you, gorgeous girl.’ It was a box wrapped in gold paper with a red bow. Inside was a bottle of Chanel No. 5 and tickets to ‘Australians on Broadway’ at Carnegie Hall, with Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu playing.
‘Wow, this is too much, but thank you.’ I kissed him on the mouth.
‘I’m hoping you might take me with you.’
I checked the date, knowing it would be awkward if Libby was still around, but it was late January, perfect.
‘Of course.’
I gave Cash a book on Native cooking from the museum gift store, and a range of organic teas from Kirsten’s favourite shop at Chelsea market.
‘This is great,’ he said, flicking through the pages. ‘I can cook up a storm for you, and drink tea while I do it.’ He leaned in and kissed me on the mouth and held me for a few too many seconds, given Libby was in the room.
‘Okay, Mr Cash Pash, we have company.’ I smiled in Libby’s direction.
‘Don’t mind me, I’m finding it all surreal. And I’m a little jealous,’ she said, pushing her bottom lip out. ‘In the nicest possible way, of course.’
That night when Cash had left and Libby and I sat holding our full stomachs and staring at the television, I told her about Cash’s kitchen revelation.
‘Cash said he loved me today and I couldn’t say it back.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t love him. I like him, a lot, but it’s not love, not yet. I don’t know if I can love someone else, just yet, or ever.’ I could see Libby starting to get her ‘intervention look’ on her face.
‘It’s not because of Chubby Neck, is it? Please tell me you’re over him.’
‘I’m over him,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m just not ready to love someone again, and anyway I’m going back to Australia in July and Cash is completely bound to his restaurant here. He’d never leave New York.’
‘I think you’re mad. He’s perfect. Smart, hot, entrepreneurial, cashed up and kind. And he is a man who can and wants to give you everything that Fullofhimself couldn’t, especially a commitment.’
‘I know, but I have to want to have everything with him and right now I don’t think I do. I wish I did.’
I almost wished I hadn’t mentioned it to Libby at all.
‘And that’s my office, the Palace.’ I pointed out the Smithsonian to Libby as we came out of the subway at Bowling Green the next day.
‘That looks much cooler than Old Parliament House, eh?’
‘It is. There’s really interesting history and the spaces are great. Much more modern than ours.’
I went through the usual flirtation with security and Libby thought it was hilarious. I gave her a tour of the museum and we walked through the exhibitions and programs that were running, also stopping at the gift store as tradition dictated. She bought five pairs of earrings that had been designed by Native artists across America. Afterwards we walked the back corridors to my office and I could see the same confusion on Libby’s face that was on mine the first day I landed at the museum.
‘Yes, before you ask, I do get lost sometimes,’ I said truthfully. ‘But I eventually find myself here, with Wyatt, nearly always already working – and here he is!’
Wyatt jumped up to greet us.
‘Hey there, Lauren! You just couldn’t stay away, could you?’
‘No, I missed you too much.’ I gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘This is my friend Libby and I really wanted you two to meet.’
‘I’ve heard a lot about you, Libby, so great to see you in the flesh.’ He shook Libby’s hand.
‘Likewise, and thanks for taking care of my tidda here. We’re all missing her terribly, but really, really jealous of her as well.’
‘I bet you are, on both counts.’
‘I’ve given Libs a tour already but I wondered if you had time for a quick coffee before we head to see Lady Liberty?’
‘Always time for coffee, Lauren, you know that.’
We went to a small coffee shop near the museum and Libby grilled Wyatt about the artists, local galleries, sponsors and so forth. I knew she’d be feeding it all back to Emma on her return. Wyatt asked as many questions as he answered, though, and I loved it that my old and new besties, both of them colleagues, got on so well. It could only bode well for future partnerships.
‘Okay, you two – one of us is officially on holidays, so let’s wrap it up or we’ll miss the ferry,’ I said, getting up and moving to the counter to pay.
‘Wyatt – I’m interested in how you use the term Native here. Back home that’s a negative term, like ‘primitive’ and ‘barbaric’. It’s considered offensive,’ Libby said.
‘Really? I guess for me it just means First Peoples.’
‘I think it’s good to have embraced it. We generally go by Aboriginal or Indigenous when others want to lump us together, and otherwise by nations and clans.’ I could hear Libby from the counter.
‘Well, I’d prefer Native to some of the alternatives from our past.’ Wyatt stood up and handed Libby her jacket. ‘Like red men or redskin, or god forbid, injun! Now that is offensive,’ Wyatt continued, ushering Libby towards me.
‘We better go, Libs,’ I said, putting my gloves on.
‘It was deadly to meet you, Wyatt,’ Libby said.
‘Awesome to meet you, too.’
Wyatt turned left out of the coffee shop and we turned right and ran all the way to Battery Park to board the ferry, meeting up with lots of other international tourists just like Libby and I.
‘Wyatt is such a nice guy, and cluey about the arts, eh?’
‘Yes, very, on both counts.’
‘So why aren’t you interested in him? You’ve almost got the same CV, you get on better than any couple I know, and you’d look great together.’
‘What are you going on about?’
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how funny he is, and of course he’s Indigenous, so there’s a whole lot of stuff you wouldn’t have to explain about life and culture. Actually, maybe I should date him?’
‘He’s gay for starters and even if he weren’t … you know I don’t mix business with pleasure.’
I felt strange at the thought of Libby dating him.
‘Really? He’s gay? I didn’t get that vibe at all,’ Libby said.
‘Aren’t you the one that said a straight man will make a pass at you almost immediately?’
‘Oh yes,’ and she looked me up and down, ‘he definitely would’ve made a pass at you for sure by now if he were straight. You’re looking good, Lauren. New York really suits you.’
‘Thank you for the compliment.’
‘Well, all I can say is that it’s a shame for us if Wyatt’s gay, but not for the guys of New York,’ Libby said as we boarded the ferry and scanned the lower deck for a seat.
‘Anyway, I’m with Cash,’ I said, almost as an afterthought, but Libby wasn’t listening any more. Cash loved me, and that’s what I had wanted all along. I just wished I could feel happier about it, and that I could love him back. My plans for going home were probably keeping my feelings under control and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
‘Why don’t they get a room,’ Libby groaned about a couple making out in front of everyone on the boat. ‘God, that turns my stomach.’
‘What? Public shows of affection? I think it’s nice. Cash likes to pash in public.’
‘Oh god, the public pash, aren’t you too old for that?’
