Charles: Hi.
The text came as Liza was leaving her apartment for work, and she smiled.
Liza: Hey.
That was what they had done the last two weeks, since they kissed and she spilled her guts to him about the secret she spent the last year keeping.
They would text all day and night, and a few nights a week he'd call her and they would dive right into a conversation — in childhood, on their marriages, on what they were scared of — as soon as he said "hi."
Charles: Do you want to meet before work?
A few times before work they'd met up at a coffee shop away from the office, just to be near each other without restriction. No make-outs, no hand holding, but just sitting across from each other was nicer than texts and calls.
Then they'd often go different ways down the block, arriving to work around the same time but not together. Liza had to admit it was sort of sexy, the running around. She let go of one secret for another, but this one was more fun.
This morning they decided to meet by Union Square — right off the subway for Liza and far from work.
"Charles, although I have thoroughly enjoyed our coffee dates and texts and calls," she said. "I think we should bring this to the next level."
"Lunch?," he said.
"My roommate is away the next few days," she said, sort of whispering. "She's going to an artists' retreat. You should...stop by this weekend. Whichever day works best."
Then she smirked at him.
"My roommates," he said, smiling, "have an all-day carnival at their school on Saturday. I can drop them off, and then their babysitter can pick them up, so there's more...time."
"And then you can come to Brooklyn," she said. "Has fancy Charles Brooks ever crossed the river into Brooklyn?"
She loved teasing him because he didn't mind it; he seemed to enjoy laughing at his big brownstone and his prep school upbringing.
"You know I've read about Brooklyn in the newspaper," he said. "A few books. But it will be nice to see it a bit. Explore. Although I think this time I'd rather spend as much time inside as possible."
Just before noon on Saturday, Liza was in her apartment, panicking. She cleaned as much as she could, showered twice, changed clothes at least three times.
He texted he was on his way.
She answered the door and he stood there, dressed in casual clothes and holding a large bouquet of bright red dahlias - the flowers she told him, during on of their long phone calls, were her favorites.
"Hi," he said. She leaned in to kiss him.
"Hey," she said.
"I took the subway," he said, and Liza's jaw dropped.
"The subway!," she said, in fake shock. "Did you get there by mistake?"
"I take the subway," he said. "And for the record, I've been to Brooklyn. I lived here, in fact. Before there was a boutique avocado shop on every corner."
"You did?,"
"After college. I lived up on 3rd and Berry for a few years with friends," he said.
"I didn't know that about you," she said. "Maybe we crossed paths in the 90s."
"I hope we didn't," he said. "Then I'd be kicking myself for not kissing you then."
He Kissed her quickly and then handed her the flowers.
She took his coat and then walked over to find a vase.
It felt very domestic, she thought, considering they both knew they were there for really thing.
"So this is your place," he said. "When did you move in?"
"Let's see," she said. "My ex and I — David — we had to sell our house in Jersey because, well, he had a tiny gambling project. And divorces are expensive."
Charles sat down at the kitchen island where Liza stood putting flowers in the vase, as she tried to summarize the last year and a half of her life — which looked vastly different than the 20 years before.
"Maggie took me in, like she's been doing since I met her at 21," she said.
"When I moved in here, I was a mess. No job, Caitlin thousands of miles away. But I also felt free for the first time in a long time."
"What made you want to come back to New York?," he asked.
"The free apartment," she said. "But also — it's New York. It's where I wanted to start my life after college and where I wanted to restart it now."
Charles looked around at the art, admiring it.
"This all your roommate?"
"Every piece," Liza said. "She's amazing. Talented and tough and creative."
"I'd love to meet her," he said. "Since you're already acquainted with the two most important people in my life."
"Of course," she said.
They stared at each other for a while just grinning.
Each of them couldn't believe they were there.
"So," Liza said, taking a sip of wine. "What's the deal with this carnival?"
"I dropped them off and did a lap. Impressive stuff. They'll stay there a few hours and then the babysitter will pick them up," he said.
"I told her I'd be back at 6," he added. It was just after noon.
"That's a lot of time to see Brooklyn," she said.
"I just want to see you," he said, and pulled her close.
It started slow. They kissed in the kitchen and then Liza suggested they move to the living room, where they made out frantically, desperately again like the first time.
"Should we —" Liza started.
"— maybe the bedroom," he said.
And in there Charles took the lead, slowly and deliberately. As he undressed her stopped and kissed her neck.
"You are so beautiful," he said.
They had both imagined it, although they would never admit it. After they were finished for the first time a wave of relief washed over Liza and Charles, a feeling of comfort and tenderness and satisfaction.
Charles wrapped himself up in Liza and rubbed her back.
She turned to face him.
"Hey," she said.
"Hi," he replied.
"Hopefully the girls will have a carnival every weekend," she said, and he laughed, kissing her and stroking her hair.
"Not a weekly carnival, no," he said. "But I can — figure something out. I think."
"You think," Liza said.
"How do people do this?," he asked, seriously.
"Do this? You seem to have a pretty good idea," she said. He smiled.
"I mean date. As a suddenly single parent," he said.
"I don't know," she said. "My kid is old and far, far away. She doesn't need me anymore. But I think it just takes juggling. Compromise. Communication."
"So like regular dating, then," he said. "Or any relationship."
"Just with an added babysitter," Liza said, and kissed Charles on his shoulder.
"It's complicated. We're complicated. It's fine," she added. "Right now we're in a bubble. And we get to determine the terms and conditions and realities of that bubble."
"Oh?," Charles asked.
"First there is the illicit nature of our bubble's existence. Which we can acknowledge has an expiration date."
"But we can enjoy it before that expiration date," he said.
"The other reality is real life's relationship to that bubble. Your girls are your priority. This - " she said, pointing around, "- won't be able to happen as much as we would like."
"What are your terms?," Liza asked.
"Hmm," he said. "The first you said. And other than that? Honestly I -"
He paused.
"- Can you be patient with me?"
Liza laced her fingers through his and kissed him.
"Of course," she said.
"I'm figuring it all out. But you make the most sense to me," he said. He kissed her.
"Are you hungry?," she asked Charles. He nodded and she jumped out of bed, throwing on a robe. He followed, just putting his boxers and a t-shirt on.
In the kitchen she took out more wine, and leftovers Maggie had in the fridge, heating up large pieces of lasagna and sauce.
"Maggie is an amazing cook," she said. "I'm just a baker. It was a running joke with my ex — that I never learned to cook just to piss him off. I think deep down he was right."
"What was your — your marriage like?" He asked. "I'm sorry, that's a weird question.
"It isn't," she said. "David and I met in college and looking back the signs were all there. He was selfish, impulsive. But I was in love, and it really was love, as far as i know."
"Marriage is hard," he said. "Is he a good father?"
"He is," she said. "But like a lot of marriages I think I did most of the parenting."
The microwave buzzed, and Charles shot up.
"I'll get it," he said. "Sit. Please."
He grabbed the plate and brought it over to the kitchen island.
"I don't think I was the best husband," he said. "And I've been thinking about the ways I was selfish, and the mistakes I made, and I am trying not to make them again."
"Me too," Liza said, taking a bite of the lasagna. She looked at her phone.
"It's 3 p.m.," she said. "Eat up. We have a few more hours in the bubble."
