The sky is blue. It's that first great weekend in spring, where the snow has just melted, but it's still cold enough for a coat. All the kids in Central Park are bundled up tightly, with mittens and scarves and rosy red cheeks. Even with all this nature around me, all I can smell are cigarettes, and grime, and greasy hot dogs.
It feels fucking great to be back in New York.
My plan worked. I busted my ass for twenty-five years to be able to retire when I was fifty. Well guess what. I retired last month…and I'll be forty-nine next week. Best of all, I'm right back where it all started- New York City. I'm still young, I'm still single, and I'm richer than my father ever was.
I'm on top of the fucking world.
It's weird to go for a walk in the proverbially Park in the middle of the day, in the middle of the friggin' week. Weirder still that I'm totally by myself. No clients, no Jack, no Raoul. No woman. I've been through two divorces in the past fifteen years, and there were plenty of women before, between, after, and I hate to say it, but during. There's never been any shortage of women.
Hey, it's not like I'm proud that both my marriages ended because I cheated. My asshole father cheated on my mother. They're still together, but I saw what it did to her. Bastard.
At least that's one thing I don't have to worry about with my exes- no kids. Not saying that I didn't want any, just that I probably wouldn't be too good at the whole soccer-dad thing. Besides, my time's probably up.
Who am I kidding. Barbara and Natasha (by the way, Ex-Wife #1 and Ex-Wife #2) were never that keen on children. And I couldn't imagine procreating with either of them, anyway. One was too focused on her career and the other was too focused on decorating the apartment.
There was one time I thought about having a baby. Well, I was kind of forced into thinking about it. The girl I was seeing at the time thought she was pregnant, but it turned out to be a false alarm. I had a dream about us lying in bed, with a baby sleeping between us. Tiny fingers and chubby little arms, and so…so cute, I don't know. Like a baby. The next morning, Carrie called me and told me she got her period.
Carrie Bradshaw…Well. That was a one-woman circus if I ever saw one. Her and I had this on-again, off-again…thing, for years before I left New York to move to Napa. Just never worked out between us. I guess I loved her, as much as I loved any woman. It got hard though, she was just so…you know. I guess everyone has one of those at one time or another.
The last time I saw her was about two years ago. Maybe not even? I was in New York for the weekend, and I just couldn't resist looking her up. At that point I hadn't seen her in over two years, and she had sworn up and down that she never wanted to lay eyes on me again. We ended up spending the night together. It was always like that with Carrie and me. Too much like an addiction to ever really fit into your life in a good way, but much too sweet to let go.
Jesus, if we did had a kid back then, God, it would have to be almost eight or nine by now. Can you imagine that? A pint-sized version of yourself running around. Now, that's a scary thought.
I can see a little boy chasing some imaginary creature around. He's about four. Now, that could be my kid. I mean, not really, but I guess he kind of looks like me. He's got the same crazy hair that's sticking up all over the place, and the same kind of energy I probably had. He's running around making fight and attack noises, and from the looks of it, he's winning his battle.
The kid's got me smiling. I can't help it. Is this what it's like to relax, to take the day in? I've felt like I've never had time before.
And before I know it, the kid's coming at me. Like he's not even seeing me, but some medieval dragon he was sent to slay, right about at the level of my knee. He's screaming like a banshee. He's going to stop right? Like, I know he's a kid, but he's not that little, and can see that I'm a flesh-and-blood man, right?
No such luck. Damn, that little boy sure can pack a punch…or a flying kick to my knee. Sorry to say it, but I'm down like a ton of bricks.
"I am the champion!" He stands, over me, victorious. I can see the Wall Street Headlines now. Retired Mogul's Ass Kicked By Toddler.
And then it hits me, like a ghost's voice, like a memory from a dream.
"Danny, get back here!"
I look up, and I almost can't focus. Wide blue eyes, crazy curls, that mouth.
"Carrie?" Then she sees me, as if she hadn't before, and the color drains from her face.
Fuck…