Chapter 219: Greenwich Village

Saturday, January 21st, Afternoon

The early afternoon sun was just getting above the lip of the valley that the tall buildings formed, barely. Fallon stood by the fountain in Washington Square Park in her comfortable clothes. She was just a few blocks from the park and often would walk here from her townhouse. To her, it was hard to believe nearly ten years ago, Fallon graduated from NYU, which surrounds this very park. Unfortunately, she graduated at Yankee Stadium instead of this park.

Fallon walked over to the fountain and looked it over. She smiled and looked at the Washington Square Arch, a memorial raised to commemorate the centennial of George Washington's first inauguration. Fallon sighed and thought of darker times, but quickly cleared her mind of them.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Grant asked from behind her. The suddenness made Fallon jump; she turned and looked at Grant. He was six-feet-tall, which was a whole nine inches taller than she stood. Grant also had the bulky man build to her waifish build. Fallon was once called elfish by Candi. Reflecting that was because Fallon accidentally called her Lynn, which she refused to go by anymore.

"Grant, you scared me," Fallon said, holding back the urge to hit him.

"Sorry, you just were looking at the arch intensely," Grant said.

"I went to NYU," Fallon said.

"So, that's why you're down here?" Grant asked.

"You could say that," Fallon said.

"NYU? You don't seem like the NYU type. Why, NYU?" Grant asked.

"I wanted to graduate by that arch," Fallon said in a half-truth.

"They've not done that in years," Grant said.

"Believe me, I was disappointed when I found out," Fallon said.

"But you graduated in Yankee Stadium," Grant said, matter-of-factly.

Fallon shook her head, "Not the same," she said, which caused Grant to chuckle. She said something of a truth.

"So, do you know where you want to grab some lunch?" Grant asked.

"Not really, I'm familiar with restaurants around here," Fallon said, trying to sell the quarter truth.

"Didn't you go to school here?" Grant asked, and gestured towards the surrounding NYU campus.

"I graduated ten years ago, things change in the city daily, and anyway, I was a student then," Fallon said, "I do know about the Stonewall Inn." Knowing Kay generally meant if she visited, she wanted to head over there, and you were told all about it.

"Who doesn't?" Grant asked, in that casual way that indicates he's heard it all before, "But do you have a taste?"

"Men," Fallon said.

"Funny, I mean in food," Grant said.

"So, did I," Fallon said.

"Anyway," Grant said, seeming a bit off his mark, "I know this little Italian place on West Houston."

"Oh, really? I'm intrigued," Fallon said.

Grant held out his arm in a gentlemanly gesture. "Well, follow me," he said.

Fallon smiled and took his arm. "Lead away," she said.

Grant led her out of the park, heading roughly south-west. They were in the old part of the city, especially Manhattan, and the streets weren't as well gridded, nor were they consistently named; also, they didn't always line up with the cardinal points of the compass. Washington Square was originally a military parade ground outside the city limits, and the area had the first African American Community in New York City. They crossed Washington Square South, and Grant led her down Sullivan Street. Their trip was only about three blocks until they reached West Houston. Fallon laughed to herself; it was pronounced House-Ton for the street in New York, and Hew-ston for the city in Texas. Grant quickly led them to the place they were heading, which wasn't far down West Houston.

Fallon noted it was a typical small NYC restaurant. It was on the first floor of a four-story brick building, with more than likely the upper three floors having apartments.

They went inside and got settled, even ordering their food. Fallon found herself looking out the open overhead doors out onto West Houston. Grant sat next to her and shyly held her hand.

"This is what I like about New York," Fallon said.

"What's that?" Grant asked.

"These little places, how they just exist and are like open secrets," Fallon said.

"You didn't have stuff like this back home?" Grant asked, "I find that hard to believe."

"Not hardly, it's a small town, and everyone knows each other's business," Fallon said.

"Well, I guess that's a good thing about NYC," Grant said, "We can have secrets."

"So true," Fallon said, "So, enough about me, what's been happening, you've seemed stress lately."

"And how," Grant said.

"How? You haven't told me yet," Fallon said.

"God, I've had this client trying to rent the gallery for her daughter's party," Grant said.

"Engagement party?" Fallon asked.

"No, oh hopefully not, her daughter is sixteen," Grant said, "It's a coming out, or her daughter's introduction to society sort of thing. Basically, her daughter is marriable type bullshit."

"Wow, that's still done?" Fallon asked Christ, thank god her dad didn't believe in that shit, and Brooke was always flexible with the girl's wishes.

"For her, I guess, so," Grant said, "And she's a Momzilla."

"A Momzilla? Is that like a Bridezilla? What's her name so I can avoid her," Fallon said.

"Anastasia Pratt of the Manhattan Pratts, you've might have heard of my husband Landon Pratt, the state senator, or my dear close friend Isabella Scott, the Congresswoman from North Carolina," Grant said, rattling it off from rote.

Easy, Fallon, poker face, "Did she really say that?" she asked. Anastasia was always a bit pretentious, Fallon noted, that's part of why Izzy did what she did. Fallon also made a mental note to ask Gena at the Foundation if she was related.

"Yes," Grant said, "Multiple times, in the same conversation," Grant said, stretching out the last four words to empathize how often she repeated herself.

"Wow, I feel sorry for you," Fallon said, and for Allyson Pratt. She met the girl a few times and found her a pleasant girl, which she probably got from Landon.

"What's worse is her daughter, Allyson, didn't seem into it at all," Grant said, "She just wanted a party with her friends."

In sympathy, Fallon nodded; someone forced her dad into Fallon having a coming out for herself. That was because she was the heir to the Stafford Fortune, but she was also allowed her private celebration. Baldwin didn't believe in some of these old traditions, and Fallon always strongly suspected older associates of the family pushed him. But hers was very low key, and mainly to introduce her to the critical people in the Stafford Organization formally. Again, it was all business, very much how her dad handled things he didn't like. Her private celebration, on the other hand, was grand, all her friends and Fallon had to suppress a smile, the Hampton's are still talking about that weekend.

"Well, she should celebrate how she wants; it's her day after all," Fallon said.

"I agree," Grant said.

They slowly ate their lunch. Once Fallon and Grant finished, they left and slowly headed back to Washington Square Park. When they reached the park, they took a seta on a bench and looked over the park. That was when Fallon's smartphone binged.

"What's that," Grant asked.

"A notification," Fallon said and pulled out her smartphone, "Looks like my sister and her best friend just posted a video."

"Posted a video?" Grant asked.

"On social media, they have this thing going on; I call it a scam," Fallon said.

"Well, let's take a look," Grant said.

Fallon opened up the video, showing the Tree Hill High School's Whitey Durham Memorial field House. Keni and Sawyer dressed in their cheerleading uniforms; Sawyer had her blonde hair tied back with black and blue ribbons. Fallon could hear the music of some old Euro Dance Track. The two teenagers were shuffle dancing to it.

"They're talented," Grant said.

"Yes, they are," Fallon said and looked at her phone.

"Both of them are cheerleaders?" Grant asked.

"Surprisingly, yes, even though I know both of them want to be doing other things," Fallon said.

"So, which one is your sister?" Grant asked.

"Can't you tell," Fallon said, with a laugh, "The short little waif with brown hair. That's Keni."

"Keni?" Grant asked.

"Kendall, but we've always called her Keni," Fallon said.

"How tall is she?" Grant asked.

"My height," Fallon said.

"God, the other girl, is a giant in comparison," Grant said.

Fallon nodded, "Sawyer is tall, almost six feet tall if I recall correctly," she said.

"Christ," Grant said.

"She comes from a tall family, her brother and sisters are all near or over six feet tall," Fallon said.

The video ended with a close up of Sawyer blowing a kiss to the camera. "She looks like your friend Ellie," Grant said.

"Who? Sawyer? They better they're sisters. Remember I said it's a small town," Fallon said.

"That explains a lot," Grant said.

"It sure does," Fallon said, and put her smartphone away.

Grant looked at his watch; Fallon noted it was a Rolex. "I have to start heading back to the gallery," he said.

"So soon?" Fallon asked.

"Yes," Grant said and nodded. Fallon noted he didn't want to go. Before he could say, more Fallon grabbed him by his coat and pulled him towards her. Grant was surprised by her strength. She leaned up to his face and kissed him.