Page 9 of Babydaddy To Go

“Really?”

I nod. “They won’t stop for anything. Don’t quote me on this, but I think you’re more likely to get hit by a bike than a car in New York.”

Alyssa giggles. “At least getting hit by a bike would hurt less.”

She underestimates how fast these bikes can get, but I don’t correct her. I’d rather watch her experience the Park for the first time.

We walk for a bit until we reach one of my favorite parts of the Park. It’s an iron bridge that has the perfect view of fall foliage.

“Come,” I tell Alyssa. “Let’s walk over the bridge.”

She keeps hold of my arm as we walk towards the structure. Halfway across, we stop and lean against the sturdy railing so Alyssa can take photos of the colorful trees.

“This is beautiful!” she says. “It feels like home.”

“I thought you might like it.”

“Thank you for taking me here.”

I smile down at her. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Shall we keep walking? We have some time before sunset.”

I don’t tell her what I have planned once we’re done in the Park. I want that to be a surprise.

As we finish our walk across the bridge, Alyssa doesn’t join her arm with mine. She fiddles with the edges of her sweater like she’s nervous. I like that Alyssa is kind of shy. It’s adorable on her.

I’m not shy in the least, so I decide to take her hand this time. Hopefully, it doesn’t scare her away. She glances up at me, asking a question, like she’s wondering if I meant to hold her hand. When she decides I’m being sincere, Alyssa laces her fingers with mine.

“What do your parents think of your move to New York?” I ask as we enjoy a leisurely stroll down one of the Park’s many walking paths.

Alyssa sighs sadly. “My parents passed away when I was a little girl. I was raised by my grandparents.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “That must have been hard.”

“It was all I knew,” she admits. “My grandparents are really supportive of this move, though they were both sad to see me go. I think it was harder on me than it was on them, honestly.”

“Why do you say that?”

From the corner of my eye, I can see her gnawing on her lip. “I don’t know,” Alyssa says. “I guess it was a pretty big leap of faith for me to come out here and try my hand at culinary school. It was hard for me to leave behind the safety of my life before.”

“Are you glad you took the leap?”

“Ask me again in a week,” she jokes. “I start class tomorrow. I’m terrified that I won’t be able to handle it.”

We’re venturing into dangerous territory. Time to shift the conversation elsewhere. If we spend too much time discussing her schooling, she might figure out who I am. I’m not ready for her to know that just yet.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” I say. I point ahead of us. “Look up there. We’re coming on the area of the park that has the most fall foliage.”

“Really?” she asks excitedly. “Can you take some photos of me? My grandparents would love it.”

Her excitement is endearing. “Of course.”

Alyssa poses by some red oak, black cherry, and sweet gum trees. In her deep orange sweater and brown hair, she looks like she belongs here. I take some pictures on her phone with her doing various happy poses. The sun is beginning to set, making the lighting perfect for a photo shoot.

Once I’ve taken a satisfactory number of photos, Alyssa scrolls through them, trying to decide which to post on social media and which she should send her grandparents back home.

“They’re going to be so happy to see me out and about. They were worried I’d become a recluse once I moved here.”

“I won’t let that happen,” I say. “I’ll drag you outside if I have to. There’s too much to do on the city streets for you to spend your time indoors!”