The Spaces Between Us

Chapter 3

I hear the blast of music coming from the kitchen, it's Saturday which meant my mom was cooking a big breakfast for me. I love what she does for me, she's never been one to shy away from the loving mother role. I pull on some sweats and step out of my room. I poke my head in and see her in a plaid apron that my grandmother had given her. For a split second it felt like I had never left. I hear music coming from her Echo, obviously Jenni Rivera. She turns her head and flashes a smile, "Hi mijo, good morning." I give her a kiss on the cheek and say good morning. "Where's dad," I asked. I hadn't see him at all since I got back.

"He had an emergency meeting at work, but he should be home soon," she explains as she sets a plate in front of me.

My dad sometimes spent more time at his office than at home. That's what happens when you run PR for a pharmaceutical executive. My dad has always been the man I see on the street every day. A suit and tie, a coffee in one hand, suitcase in the other. Meanwhile yapping off into his AirPods. The stereotypical New York self made man who clearly shows that he was a yuppie. Although he always had to run off or had Kate days, I know him and my mother were still happy. It's somewhat rare seeing that here, all my friends parents are divorced. Harry told me that it happened to his when he was 12. Liz at 8, Carter at 16. They call me privileged sometimes.

I finish off my breakfast and hop in the shower to get ready for the day and as I'm getting out I hear a chime coming from my phone. I rush over to answer the call without checking the caller ID. "Hi." I heard his voice and my heart skipped a beat.

"Hi Harry, what are you up to?" I ask.

"Not much mate, what are you doing today?"

"Nothing planned yet, so I should ask what are we doing today?"

I hear him chuckle into the phone, " I was thinking going to the MET and maybe grabbing some dinner, how does that sound?"

"Sounds great Harry, I'll meet you there at 3?"

We hang up and I immediately tell myself that it's not a date.

I don't listen to myself because I'm getting dressed as if it is a date. I put on my good jeans, a black tee with my grey cardigan, and my black Chelsea boots. And to top it off cologne. I'm setting myself up for rejection. I go down the subway and get off at the closest stop to the MET. I used to love going to the museum, I had a year long pass and the paintings had always fascinated me, even though I'd seen it many many times.

I find something new every time. I walk to the large steps and see Harry in a brown sweater with his shirt sticking out at the bottom, with black jeans, and brown boots. Sporting a camera in his hand. He looks incredibly warm and just looks like he is someone who loves cuddling.

He spots me walking up and walks up to me, opening his arms in a big embrace. "Hi, how are you?" He asks me. I tell him I'm doing fine and we walk up the steps into the museum. "I see you brought out your camera," I observe. "erm yeah, I wanted to try taking a few pictures, I've been out of practice for a while." He explains. As we make our way through the museum we stop in the gallery with my favorite painting, A Sunday on La Grande Jatte. The energy in the painting, crowds of people and families enjoying themselves, it was comforting. I continuously get lost in its beauty. I hear a click coming from the side and I look to see Harry pointing his camera at me.

"What are you doing," I ask. He just smiles and looks at the picture. I scoff and go back to the painting. We slowly make our way through every room until it was 7:00. Time had gone by so fast and we hadn't even realized. We step outside and make our way to the sidewalk when he asks where we should grab dinner. I suggested sushi or a poké place and we make our way to dinner.

Harry orders a basic poké bowl while I got a salmon roll. We eat in silence but not uncomfortable or awkward. I go to throw away my plate but as I get up Harry speaks up and offers t take it for me, I'm in so deep. "So where to now," he inquires. "I feel like being a tourist tonight," I say with a smug face, I lead him while he has a confused look on his face. As we're walking the street numbers get higher and higher until we're on 44th. I take a deep breath and see Harry give an exasperated sigh.

"Oli I think you're the only New Yorker who actually likes being here," he said. I ignore his remarks and continue walking towards the massive crowds of people with their phones out, or eyes gazing at all the lights. It never failed to make me feel a sense of excitement. Times Square. It's the pinnacle tourist spot but it doesn't stop me from coming here over and over. We walk over to the red steps right at the center of the intersection and I just take in the loud roar of people and the bright lights shining everywhere. I see him fumbling and trying to get his camera out of his bag and as he is almost about to take my picture I surprise him and look directly at the lens. "No more sneaky pictures, you're a borderline stalker now," I joke as I step in front of him. "Can't help it, you're a perfect model to practice on," he says ever so smoothly. He can be so charming in an instant. Going from goofy friend to smooth lover with a snap. We stare at each other for what feels like hours but it's quickly interrupted by a tourist couple who ask him to take a picture of them. He gladly accepts since he's the kindest person in this city. He snaps their picture and they move along. Turning to my direction he smiles and I feel light as a feather. He's so genuine and compassionate and the epitome of human kindness and decency. It takes every fiber of my being not to kiss him, my thoughts get derailed when he asks if I want to go home already. I nod my head and we walk away.

He walks me home again, but instead of dropping me at the steps of the building he walks me straight up to the door. "Today was great Harry," I express. "Yeah it was, I don't know about you but I'm planning on getting as much time with you as I can until you leave," he says proudly. The sharp pain hits me as I remember I'm only here until the following Friday. 6 more days until he's out of my life again. I push the thought to the back of my head, urging myself to not cry and I simply say, "I'm perfectly alright with that." We move in for another hug, this time though it really feels like he doesn't want to let me go. Things really take a turn when he plants a small kiss on my cheek and says, "I'll see you tomorrow, I know you'll love what I have planned." I say my goodbye and walk into the loft, holding my hand onto my cheek, utterly shocked he did that.

My shock is over quickly when I see my dad walking over to me, his shoes creating a thundering boom as he walks. "There he is! Oh Oliver how are you," he says in a loud hearty yell. I love my dad, he always made me feel like the most important person in the world. "Hi dad! I missed you so much," I say as he squeezes the life out of me. "Your mother says you were out with Harry tonight, How was that?" He asked. My dad was always one to welcome harry with open arms, almost like another son. They discussed sports, the arts, every topic that can spark up a conversation. He sure as hell wouldn't be opposed to something happening between us.

"It was great dad, I love seeing him," I reply.

"That's great, I'm glad you're having a good time with him." He says as he walked off into his bedroom. That's how our conversations go. Quick hello, chat, and no "good night" or "love you son". I headed into my room and got ready for bed. As I'm getting comfortable I remember that harry said he was planning a surprise for me tomorrow, and that I'd love it. I can't imagine what he has up his sleeves. I learned quickly to trust him and just go along with his plans. He hasn't disappointed me yet.