New York City in late September is a magical time as I soon found out. When Frank and I left LaGaurdia airport, the air was already fresh with fall. All that concerned summer had seemed to have melted away with the temperature. I felt as new as the season once we were piled in a taxi and headed for our hotel.

"Are you glad you came?" Frank asked as we pulled away from LaGaurdia.

"Very," I replied. No other words needed to be said.

I was very uncharacteristically quiet the whole drive down. I looked past the tenement houses and the slum children playing and wondered what they thought life was like. I hope they realized that life didn't have to be that hard. Then we past brownstone houses with the well-to-do children playing in the same style as the slum children and the realization had brought me peace. My childhood days playing with Scout had crept into my mind again; memories played out scenes that I haven't thought of in a long time.

"Hey man, we're here," Frank said as he punched me in the arm.

"Already?" I asked.

"Yeah. Are you okay, man? You act like you're out in space."

"I'm okay."

"Well, get out and get our luggage."

As usual, I brought the most luggage between the two of us with good reason though: He was going back and I wasn't. Frank still thought I was crazy to move back to the United States by myself. I reminded him that this was my home country and I traveled around Europe mostly by myself anyway. I never mentioned the possibilty of seeing Scout to him. I figured if I find her, when I find her, I would tell him.

Our hotel room was on the top floor of a ten story building. I was glad that heights didn't bother me anymore. I walked into the room and everything was white. I decided that I've stayed in better but we could have been staying in a lot worse knowing this city. I watched as Frank laid down on one of the beds and that's when I decided to look out the window. A little way's down and a look to the right, I spotted a bar. I thought it would be nice to have a drink right now.

"What are you staring at?" Frank asked.

"That bar across the street. A cocktail or two sounds nice. Care to come along?"

"No way, man. I am washed up from that flight. I can't believe you're not."

"I'm so used to traveling it doesn't faze me anymore."

"Well, you can go. Don't let me stop ya."

"Who said you were gonna?" I asked as I headed out the door. "Have a nice nap."

"Have a nice buzz," Frank replied.

The bar inside was as tiny and cozy as it looked on the outside. I helped myself to a seat at the corner booth and waited for the cocktail waitress to come by. I love corner booths; you can see everything and hear everything without getting too close. I don't know how many short pieces I have written from these places.

"What'll you have, sir?" A voluptuous redhead asked out the corner of my eye.

"A double Irish coffee," I replied.

"Yes, sir," she said as she walked away.

As she was getting my drink order, I spotted a man and a woman at the bar talking to each other. I couldn't keep my eyes off the woman, especially her legs. She was wearing a black mini-dress that showed all her legs and her legs were delicious. I wonder if she's wearing any underwear. Wouldn't I like to find out...

"Your drink, sir," the redhead said as she gave me my irish coffee.

"Thank you," I said, not paying a whole lot of attention to her.

"Are you all right?" She asked me. "What are you staring at?"

"Well," I didn't know if I should ask her this but I figured to go ahead; I would never see her again, probably. "That girl in the black dress over there. What's her name?"

"Oh, that's Jean Louise Finch."

"What?!" I said a little too loud because a few bar patrons turned around and looked at me.

"Do you know her?"

"We were best friends when we were little. How do you know her?"

"She used to work here and now she just hangs out here with whatever man she picks up."

"She's not a hooker, is she?"

"No but between you and me, she's as loose as a cannon."

"So am I," I admitted.

"At least you're honest. Want me to tell her you're here?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"She's walking away."

I watched in what seemed like slow motion as Scout and her man of the hour headed for the door. I noticed her look right at me and I gave her a smile. She then had a look on her face that almost looked like sorrow before she finally headed out the door with her man not far behind her. Did she not know who I was? Did she know and not have the guts to face me? Maybe she didn't want to leave but her man was being a blow-hard? I don't know and I'm not sure I do want to know.

"Do you want another double Irish?" The waitress asked me. She noticed the whole thing, too and obviously felt like shit for me.

"Yes, please."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get to her sooner."

"Let her go."

The waitress didn't know what to say after that. She just headed back to the bar while I pretty much gulped down the Irish Coffee. I arrived with my heart set on just one strong cocktail and now I wanted to get blacked-out drunk. I rubbed my temples as the waitress slammed my new mug on the table with a smile. What the hell was she smiling for?

"She's back."

"She's alone?"

"All alone. She wants to see you."

"Well, go get her then."

"Hi," Scout came up to me out of nowhere. She laughed at my shocked expression and then I began to laugh because she was laughing. I got up from my seat, grabbed her face and kissed her lips. She wrapped her arms around my neck as the bar oohed and ahhed. That made us laugh more.

"Thanks, Patty," she said to the waitress.

"Don't mention it, lovebirds," she said as she punched Scout on the arm before walking away.

"Here, take a seat," I said as I moved over to make room for her.

"Okay."

"I didn't mean for you to cancel your date."

"Oh, forget about him. He's sleaze."

"I hope you know you traded in sleaze for more sleaze."

"Oh, I know."

We both laughed. Man, it was good to see her again and with her childhood wit still intact. I brushed her hair back and noticed there was a scar near her temple that I don't remember her having. I wonder where she got it from but from the look she gave me when she realized I noticed I didn't want to know. I gave it a kiss as she flinched.

"You're okay, sweetheart," I said, kind of shocked and hurt that she would flinch like that because of me.

"Since when do you call me sweetheart?"

"Since now. Does that hurt?"

"No," she said as she straightened herself out in her seat. I watched as she pulled down the hem of her dress to make sure she wasn't totally exposed.

"You're not wearing any underwear, are you?"

"Dill!" She shot at me. I just smile slyly at her until she shakes her head no.

"That revival taught you nothing, did it?"

We both laughed again.