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The Invitation

Declan

I spent the entire next day playing catch-up in the office, responding to emails I’d ignored and accepting meeting invites I’d been putting off.

It was time to go back to real life.

I didn’t hate the fact that throughout the course of the day, nearly everyone I came into contact with mentioned Abi. It seemed the entire company had accepted our lie as truth, and the general consensus appeared to be that we were steps away from the altar.

Perfect.

On the other side of that coin, I didn’t text Abi at all, mostly because I knew I should probably start getting out of that habit.

Besides, I knew she had class, and Benny’s, and was cleaning an apartment later.

Our lives couldn’t be more different, so it probably didn’t even make sense to keep chatting.

But when I got back to my apartment after work, I got a text from her. It was short and sweet.

Hope you had a good day.

And God help me, I was glad to hear from her. I slipped off my shoes and went into the kitchen, wondering what the fuck was happening to me.

I texted: How was class?

Abi: GREAT. We mapped out my short story collection and it WORKS, Declan.

I replied: That’s fantastic.

I wished I could read them all.

Abi: So what New York things are you doing tonight? I still want to live vicariously through you.

I texted: I’m actually doing nothing tonight because I’m tired.

Abi: But you’re in the city that never sleeps. How can you just be sitting inside?

I grabbed a beer from the fridge and replied: I’m not a tourist, remember?

I hopped up onto the counter, still dressed in slacks and a dress shirt—I was so tired that I was unwilling to walk all the way to my bedroom to change.

Abi: You have no idea how jealous I am right now. NYC is seriously the one place in the world I’d go if I were given a free trip anywhere.

Curious, I texted: What would you want to do if you magically showed up here right now?

Abi: Walk. I think I would be happy walking the streets of New York for days. I’d walk to Central Park and go write by those famous turtles near the big rock. I’d walk to the grocery store from You’ve Got Mail. And maybe go to a flea market in Brooklyn.

I texted: What about the Empire State Building? Statue of Liberty? Do you want to do all the touristy things?

Abi: Nope. I see those on TV and I’m sure they’re fantastic, but my goal would be to visit everything that made me feel like I lived there.

Give me all the bodegas, let me roll around in honking horns.

And I’d want to walk by all the publishing houses, just to manifest writing something that someday might show up in print.

It was so on-brand for Abi to want to visit “the city that never sleeps” but do something absolutely not exciting.

I texted: That’s a very low-maintenance visit to the city. You don’t even want to go to a show?

Abi: I mean, going to a show would be cool but I wouldn’t want the time investment of trying to get tickets.

As we texted back and forth, I could picture it. I could picture her at a show (that she didn’t have to wait in line for tickets for), petting bodega cats even though she shouldn’t, writing in Central Park, and reading on my terrace.

Fuck.

I wanted her here.

I texted: You should come meet me .

The word Delivered just beneath the text message should have scared me, but it didn’t. She was kind of my friend, and all the people who mattered at Hathaway had already engaged with her. So what would be the harm of hanging out with her a little more?

Just as friends.

Or.

Abi: Haha just let me fire up my private jet and I’ll be there within the hour.

Laughing, I texted: A private jet wouldn’t make you get there any faster, and I’m serious.

Abi: You cannot be serious

I texted: WHY NOT?

There were conversation bubbles, but it took her a couple minutes to send a response. Finally she replied: Because that’s not the way life works. You can’t just say someone should come hang out with you in another city on the other side of the country.

Somehow I knew she’d have to be convinced. I texted: I’ll be booking your plane tix so it’s free, Mariano

Abi: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?

I could almost hear her yelling that and it made me smile.

I sent: Because I’m bored and all about making your dreams come true.

Abi: Very funny. And I have to work.

Suddenly, I wanted this badly. I texted: Come tomorrow. Call in to Benny’s—a relapse of your weekend illness. Just do it and fly back the next morning.

She texted: THIS IS NOT HOW LIFE WORKS.

I wasn’t giving up. I replied: Tell me why this won’t work.

All you have to do is show up at the airport and you can come to New York like you’ve always wanted.

We can do whatever you want while you’re here, and then you go home the next day.

I have infinite frequent flyer miles so it won’t cost me anything if that’s what you’re worried about.

I saw those conversation bubbles, but I wasn’t having it.

I speed-texted: And if you don’t want to hang out with me when you get here, I can show you how to take the subway. Or book a hotel room if you don’t want to stay at my place.

I was committed to convincing her, trying to sell my ass off.

Abi: You’re really serious? Are there Hathaway people there that you want to see us together?

I wanted to tell the truth, that I wanted her there for no apparent reason, but I chickened out and gave a half-truth because I had no idea how she’d respond to honesty in this scenario.

I texted: I wouldn’t hate that, but I just think it sounds fun to have my friend Abi visit.

Abi: We’re officially friends now? Is that what you’re saying?

I texted: Absolutely it is.

Abi: Let me think on this while I go to work tonight OK?

I was disappointed, but I knew she needed to think about it. Especially when on my end, the thinking I was doing was on whether I wanted to maybe move this past friendship.

Everything inside me was screaming to chill out and proceed with caution, but every time I looked at her, talked to her, or had a solitary thought that included her, I kind of wanted more.

So this trip might help me right the ship.

Or send me deep underwater.

I finished the rest of my beer and changed into workout clothes, but not before adding: Do me a favor, Ab. While you’re working, think about how great a day in NYC with no responsibilities would be.

Abi: Trust me, I will.