"Go ahead, Sam."
"I feel silly, Jonathan."
"You promised."

She sighs. "OK." It's not like she doesn't know why we came here, but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel self-conscious. But after awhile she gets into it, not seeming to mind.

I think of a poem I read last semester, by William W. Purkey:

"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth."

There are a few people watching, but it's New York. No one really cares.

I think of her dancing drunk on a table over a year ago, a couple hours before she first kissed me. The only way I could get her to stop was to climb up on the table and join her dance. But this time, after watching how happy and beautiful she looks, I join in because I want to be part of that. Not that I'm very good at the Hustle. She smiles and it's like the whole city lights up.

We take the ferry round trip, although we don't dance the whole time of course. Mostly, we hold hands and look at the view.

I sigh. "I'm glad we came here."

"Me, too. It's good to get out of Connecticut."

"Do you remember when we ran away to Brooklyn eleven years ago?"

"Um, as I remember it, I ran 'home' and you tagged along."

"Well, you made it sound so appealing."
She laughs. "Yeah, the cockroaches and everything."

"Yeah. You always made everything seem like an adventure." Like my dad, I now realize.

"Maybe you can study entomology after all, with a dissertation on cockroaches."

"Actually, I'm still leaning more towards herpetology. But I found out that Yale, no college really, offers it as a major, even at the graduate level."
"So what are you going to do? You still applied for a transfer, right?"

"Yeah, I applied. I'll major in Biology but apply it to snakes."

"Oh, I see. And then what? After college I mean?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe work in a zoo. We'll see. It's still two years till graduation, maybe longer if not all of my credits transfer over from MIT."
"Are you sure you want to do this, Jonny?"

I smile. "Yes, Mantha." We don't use those names too often. We're still Sam and Jonathan to each other, because that's what we've always been, nicknames aside. "And not just because of Us. I want to spend time with Mom's baby, and Val, before I go out into the world."

She bites her lip.

"That's still two years away. Anything can happen."

She swallows. "Right."

We're still not making promises. We still can't really look to the future, although there might be one, if we can get through this time.

One reason we're glad to be out of Fairfield is that the gossip does get to us. The neighbors have been awful. Sam says she'd rather deal with Brooklyn gossip, where everything's on the table, not veiled, "polite" little remarks. It's mostly the women Mom's age, but not only.

"Did I tell you what Ernie said yesterday?" I now ask.

She shakes her head.

"The latest rumor is that we were having sex in the drive-through at McDonald's."

She laughs. "Was the car moving?"

"Slowly."

Ernie is sympathetic but he's not going to stop spreading the gossip. He told me he sees himself as a medieval troubadour, journeying from castle to castle, delivering the news. When I told Sam that, we had a good laugh, imagining that little sparkplug of a guy with tights and a lute.

Her friends, well, Charlie and Bonnie anyway, have been supportive. She hasn't talked much to the friends she and Hank had as a couple. As for me, I've just told Steven. He thinks it's "weird but hot," but then he's always had a little crush on Sam. We haven't told anyone at work, because it's none of their business, although Sam is sort of friends with her bosses.

No, we're not having sex, at McDonald's or anywhere. We kiss a lot, usually in the privacy of her living room. We go out to dinner sometimes when Bonnie can sit for Val, but not the movies. The family's supposed to go see Norman's movie when it comes out next month, which should be interesting. Yeah, it was in post-production for a long time.

We dock at Battery Park in Manhattan. We stroll through the park, hand in hand. Even that feels great, since we're so self-conscious in Fairfield.

"It's been a really nice day," she says.

"Yeah." We didn't do anything amazing, just hung out and did New York stuff. You know, buying food from street vendors, riding the subway, getting mugged in Central Park. Kidding. Actually, we did a carriage ride. We knew it was corny, but we did it anyway.

The weather was great, although Sam says it can be sticky-hot in the summer. It's cooled down now that the sun has set of course.

"I don't really get to just hang out here anymore."

"Because of Val?"

"Well, yeah, and now that I come to New York for work. It's been fun to play tourist with you."

"Showing the country boy the big city?"

She laughs. "Well, the suburban boy."

"And you're the sophisticated city girl."
"Yeah, out to corrupt you."

Then we look at each other and kiss. It's not like our kisses these last couple months. It's less inhibited, more passionate. Even though we're in public, I feel freer than I do at home, where I feel like a thousand eyes are watching us. And judging from the way her mouth is moving against mine, and the way her hand is grabbing my butt, she feels the same. I'm not that bold, but I do stroke her hair, which is again in a bob.

Then someone shouts, "Sam? JONATHAN?"

We spring apart. Ohshitohshitohshit!

"Hank," she whispers.

He runs over. "What the hell is going on? Where's Valley?"

Sam doesn't even object to the nickname for their child, a name I happen to know Sam hates. "With a sitter," she says faintly.

"Our five-month-old baby is with a babysitter while you're making out with Jonathan in New York?"

That's true, but the way he says it makes it sound horrible.

Then a woman with long, straight strawberry blonde hair comes over and says, "Hanky? What's going on?"

Sam and I sneak a look at each other and it's all we can do to keep from bursting out laughing.

"Lisa, I'd like you to meet Jonathan, Sam's stepbrother," Hank says, his tone a lot less polite than his words.

"Oh, her step—um, pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," I say and shake her hand, because I figure I at least should be polite.

"Yes, Jonathan," Sam says, and her tone is now as snide as Hank's, "this is the woman Hank cheated on me with and left me for, after he donated sperm for Valley."

Hank and Lisa both look self-conscious.

"Well, it's getting late and we've got to be getting home," I say, figuring I'm the one who's supposed to be the reasonable person in this situation.

"Just a minute. Sam, you still haven't told me what's going on."
"I don't see how it's any of your business, Hank, considering you live in sin with Lisa."

"And what are you and Jonathan living in?"

"Hank, you and I live our own lives now and—"

"Uh huh. What are you exposing my daughter to? That is, if she is my daughter."

She shoots him a killing look. "You did not just say that."

"How long has this been going on, Sam? After all, you took awhile to tell me I was going to be a father. No, I'm sorry, you didn't tell me. You told my mother and then asked for child support."

"You are seriously delusional. That is not at all how things happened." Her voice is surprisingly calm but I'm bracing myself for the unleashing of the Micelli temper.

"Oh? How did they happen?"

"Hanky, maybe this isn't the time and place."

"Oh, right, Leese, let's all go get some coffee and discuss this calmly."

She flinches at his sarcasm being directed at her.

"You asshole!" I stare at Sam. "There's no need to hurt poor Lisa." The other two now stare at her. "Jesus Goddamn Christ!" A nun stares at her. "Sorry, Sister." Sam shakes her head. "Hank, Val is your daughter but she's mostly mine. I'm the one who takes care of her six and a half days a week. If it's a crime for me to want to take a break once in awhile, then throw me in jail!"

"A break? Is that what this is?"

"I like Jonathan. He makes me happy. Don't make a federal case out of it."

"And I'm the delusional one?"

"Goodnight, Hank. See you on Tuesday." She walks away quickly and I have no choice but to follow, although I do wave goodnight.

She hails a taxi just as I catch up with her. She asks to be taken to the train station. I guess we're heading back to Fairfield.

I don't say anything at first, and then I notice she's quietly crying.

"You want a hanky?"

She snorts. "No thanks. God, I made such an idiot out of myself!"

"No, you were great. Sorry I didn't say more but I didn't know what to say."

"It's fine. I don't think there was any right thing to say in that situation."

I shake my head. "God, what are the odds we'd run into him? Them?"

"Well, they do live in New York."

"So do millions of other people."

"Yeah. Why did they have to be in Battery Park tonight? Why did they have to catch us kissing?"

"At least it's not like he caught us in bed."

She laughs and then frowns. "God, why are we putting it that way, 'catching us'? We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Especially not recently."

She smiles a little. "Well, that's why I grabbed your butt."

I blush. I'm sure the cabbie has heard it all, but I still feel self-conscious.

Then he says, "Say, listen, Folks," and I expect him to comment on the situation. But he says, "I got a call in for a potential passenger, a couple blocks away. And they're going to the same train station. Do you mind?"

"Can we split the fare?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, sure, but be generous with the tip."

"I love New York," I murmur, and Sam takes my hand and squeezes it.

She and I need to talk things out more, but I guess it can wait for the train.

When the cab pulls over, she looks out the window and says, "I don't believe this!" She lets go of my hand.

"Wow, we're running into all your exes tonight, aren't we?" I tease.

The guy in the leather jacket gets in and says, "Yo, Sam! Jonathan! What are you two doin' in New York?"

"Long story. Since when do you take cabs, Al?"

"Since I started dating a babe with deep pockets."
"And how is Charlie?"

"Great in the sack but a real bitch sometimes."

"I meant her health and general emotional state."

He shrugs. "Who can tell with chicks? Am I right or am I right, Jonathan?"

"Um, you're right."

"So you guys are doin' it, huh?"

We stare at him.

"Who told you?" Sam asks, and she probably figures Charlie broke her promise of secrecy.

"Was it Ernie?"
"Hey, come on, I don't have to rely on a water man for gossip. I run the finest beauty salon in Fairfield. Broads are always talkin' about somethin'. I try not to listen, but when they start whispering about 'that Micelli girl' and 'that Bower boy,' well, I can't help tuning in."

I notice they don't call Sam by her married name, but it is harder to pronounce and she is divorced.

"What are they saying?" she asks.

Al shrugs. "All kinds of shit. I don't tell 'em what Charlie told me, that you guys did it a couple times and then decided you couldn't deal with the incest so you backed off for awhile."

"Goddamnit, if Charlie's going to back-stab me, she could at least get the details right!"

"She didn't back-stab you. I brought it up. She loves you like a sister. Well, not like Jonathan does apparently."
"Al."

"Kiddin'. Jeez, lighten up, Sam. So, Bower, what's your secret? I couldn't get to second base with this chick and I tried for years."
"Al, we had like two dates!"

"Well, I didn't say I was puttin' concentrated effort into it. But you know, you looked pretty hot in that blonde wig and miniskirt and the peekaboo sweater when you tried to help me get that apartment. Not that you're a dog as a brunette."

"How did you resist all this sweet talk?" I ask Sam.

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

"Hey, no hard feelings, Kid. I wish you both lots of luck. You're sure as hell gonna need it."

Sam and I look at each other and we're both thinking, That's probably the smartest thing Al has ever said.