Chapter 180
Several hours later, the group of women had enjoyed a leisurely brunch and walked all the way from their hotel up to Barnard. That had been Lane's idea- that since Paris' work was all the way uptown, walking up there would allow them to trek most of the midtown and uptown places they wanted to see, leaving tomorrow free to spend thoroughly downtown. The other women had readily agreed, and decided that tomorrow morning they'd spend some time split up to each do their own individual things. But for today, they'd trekked together, passing through Hell's Kitchen, Lincoln Center (to Jane and Hannah's great delight), and much of the Upper West Side, with a brief sojourn to the park for Jane's benefit.
Rory had forgotten how much she loved the city. She'd really lost sight of that when she had lived there, simply because she was so stressed and overwhelmed by her unfulfilling job that she barely got to spend any time there. She kept an apartment, but when she was in the city she was running from work obligation to work obligation, only to crash into her apartment and work more late into the night. She'd always told herself she'd find the time once she settled in to her career. That day hadn't come. It was a little harsh and illuminating for Rory to realize that she'd squandered her time living there, an opportunity she likely wouldn't have again, when there was so much to be enjoyed. She resolved to enjoy as much of it during this trip as she could.
New York is a city of the initiated, the jaded. It is a city of and for locals, who love to lord their superiority over and express their disdain for tourists, the new and enthusiastic. They find that enthusiasm deeply uncool and very telling. Rory had been one of those people once. She found that returning in this context, with women who had wanted to go but hadn't ever spent much time there, as a bit of a tourist herself, she was captured by the city's charms in a way she'd forgotten to be for years now. She remembered the scorn that she'd had for the memory of her teenage self meeting Jess here, so obviously out of place, and how desperately she'd wanted to become a local, assimilate into that culture. In doing so, she'd lost a lot of the joy that came with remembering to be bowled over by the city's magnificence. That was awfully hard to forget when you were surrounded by the uninitiated, the new, the uncool, who were unapologetically enthused about everything from Central Park to Zabar's.
New York was a strange place for Paris. She was one of the few who had never dreamed of living there. Her dream had always been Harvard, and after Harvard, Boston. It was surprising how it had ended up working out for her that way. But she'd never craved the city that never slept in the fervent, passionate way so many people did. For her, when New York made sense for her and Doyle, it was just that- a practicality. A job that seemed more promising to her, and a convenient location for the rest of what was happening in her life at the time. A place with access to the types of resources Paris had become accustomed to- world-class hospitals, excellent universities, great schools and arts and culture. But since she'd moved there a few months before, Paris was finding herself enamored with the city in a way she hadn't anticipated. A few minutes ago, she'd smiled indulgently at Jane when she'd asked to stop at Central Park to get her hot dog, knowing that that was what this city held for so many people. But after only a few weeks, Paris was beginning to feel like she knew the city's secrets. She knew the great spots for dinner that were hidden away, and how to get into them when there was a line out the door. She knew which parks were oversaturated and which ones you could find a little peace in, at the right time of day in the right spot. She also knew where to avoid if you weren't looking to get mugged, which for Paris was a real priority.
Paris had bought a condo for herself and Doyle quickly. She'd reasoned it would be easy to sell, and knew she was right, and that they could do so if they decided they wanted something different. But surprisingly, she'd found herself outside of it more often than not. It might be that she was avoiding Doyle, and to an extent, that was probably it. But in reality, she just found herself drawn to the city. She liked trying the new restaurants, slipping into bookstores that she'd never heard of, grabbing a coffee and people-watching in different neighborhoods, getting a sense of the character. She'd been thinking that she would likely sell their condo in several months, or a year or so, whenever made sense, now that she was getting a sense of the neighborhoods she liked.
And she loved Barnard's campus. Even though she was teaching remotely this semester, she'd found her way to campus for various meetings, to host office hours (though it wasn't required of her, she really wanted to meet some of her students) and for various administrative reasons. She found herself spending a great deal of time in the cozy warmth of the Upper West Side and Morningside Heights. Even in the enormity of the city, she found herself drawn to a feeling of comfort that seemed to permeate the air on those streets. She found herself becoming one of those insufferable people who couldn't wait for it to be autumn, for cool breezes and falling leaves on those streets.
Paris hadn't been looking for New York, but it had found her. And she felt found. As much as felt off in her life at the moment, the New York air suited her for the time being. As she slowly and painfully examined the pieces of her life, deciding what to keep and what to discard, Paris had a feeling that New York was where she was supposed to be. At least for now. That sense of comfort and pride emanated from her as she led the other women through the city with confidence and ease.
Lane loved New York, and she always had. But it was out of her sights. Lane knew the parameters of her own life. At the moment, she was barely keeping together the small domestic situation she had in the tiny hamlet of Stars Hollow, and the effort it took to do so was tearing her apart. Lane believed New York was a place for her to admire and not to be, rarely even for travel. She knew Zack came here for gigs every few months. They always paid better than most of his others, though they seemed to always be right outside the city in Jersey or Long Island, and he talked up the experience so intensely that she knew he was exaggerating.
Lane had been to New York only a few times in her life, but it continued to awe her. She didn't like the tourist attractions much, or the skyscrapers, or the museums. For her it was downtown. The record stores, the Village, the Lower East Side, those spoke to Lane in a way she rarely experienced in her life anymore. The people and the energy of those places felt like Lane had found her people. Just about everyone was a little weird, nontraditional, and didn't seem to give much of a crap how you lived your life or what you thought of how they lived theirs. For Lane, with her restrictive upbringing and her current compressed life, that idea was electrifying. She couldn't really imagine living here, even in an alternate reality, she admitted to herself. She loved her boys, and she couldn't really imagine being a parent here. But for a few moments, as they trekked up towards Barnard, Lane allowed herself to fantasize of a life where she could visit New York not just two or three times throughout her life, but two or three times a year. It was almost funny how totally unattainable Lane believed this to be. Stars Hollow wasn't far from New York, not far at all, and Lane had a car, and people willing to help her, and a little bit of money. But Lane had become very accustomed to the smallness of her life, and the idea that she could even possibly expand it, particularly to suit her own interests or desires, felt essentially heretical. She enjoyed musing on the thought for a moment, and then stopped herself. It was a daydream. Her life was hanging on by a series of increasingly precarious threads. She couldn't afford to daydream. At most, she could allow herself to savor this weekend away. God knows when she'd get the opportunity again.
