Page 77 of The Best Parts of Him

And went to join him.

chapter twenty

Ryland:

Can you meet me in New York on January 11???

Dabbs

Uh . . . why?

Ryland:

Please?

Dabbs:

We’re not going to the Statue of Liberty, are we?

Ryland:

That boring attraction? Hard pass.

Dabbs:

[laughing emoji] What are we doing there then?

Ryland:

Can you meet me at the Barnes & Noble on E 17th by 1pm on the 11th?

Dabbs:

Why? Is there an event you want to go to? An author you want to meet?

Ryland:

Please? Please please please please please please please please please

Dabbs:

I’m booking my flight now.

Dabbs exited LaGuardia airport—one of the only places he could fly direct to from Burlington—on a Sunday afternoon in January and winced against the cold as he wheeled his carry-on to the taxi stand. Maybe he was just tired, but the suitcase felt like it was several pounds heavier than when he’d first brought it down from his bedroom.

His hour-and-a-quarter flight, just long enough to go up and come right back down again, had been delayed by almost two hours due to bad weather, and now it was twenty minutes to one, there was a line a dozen people deep at the taxi stand, and Ryland’s texts were blowing up his phone.

Dabbs:

Just landed. Going to grab a taxi.

The line moved quickly—this was New York; everything moved quickly—and he was in a cab inside of five minutes, his carry-on in the trunk. He gave the driver the address to the Barnes & Noble and called Ryland.

“Are you on your way? Did you get a cab? How far away are you?”

Unfazed by Ryland’s rapid-fire questions, Dabbs said, “Yes, yes, and . . . ” He checked the GPS on the driver’s dash. “About forty minutes.”

“Forty minutes,” Ryland muttered. “That gets you here at 1:20 or so. Okay. Okay! We’ll be a bit late, but that’s fine.”