We left the museum and walked south on 5th Avenue. He seemed excited, and I couldn't imagine what we were headed to. I only hoped it wasn't something that would expose my worst fears.
"You have to tell me where we're going," I said after a few minutes of fretting. "Boat" was a scary word in my life, and though I knew that there was nothing to fear in Central Park, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread.
Jack looked shy. "More fodder for the Jack-is-a-complete-dork file."
I shook my fears away. "The tour was great. I'm glad my first time was with you."
"So, it was good for you?"
I swatted his arm. "Quit it. Where are we going?"
"It's for my nephew."
"It's a bit early to introduce me to the family."
"Ha. No, no, I'm doing this for my nephew. He won't be there today. Just be patient. We're almost there."
He directed us back into the park at East 72nd. There was a pond up ahead with a small crowd gathered in front of a brick structure.
"Are those ... remote controlled sailboats?"
"Yep."
I smiled in relief as I watched the colorful boats sailing around the pond. "Thank goodness."
"What is it?"
"I thought it had something to do with actual boats. You know, human sized, not for Stuart Little."
"Maybe some other time. For today, I present you the Central Park Model Boat Sailing Club and one of their weekly regattas." He swept his arm wide, taking in the pond and the delighted faces of those watching. There were twenty boats in the water, each about two feet high. A line of men and boys stood on the side of the pond behind a small rope.
"How do the remotes work?"
"They're wind powered. They can adjust the trim of the sail and the rudder's direction. Many of the boats are handmade."
"You seem to know a lot about it."
He kicked at the ground with his shoe. "My nephew, he's six and obsessed with sailboats. He's wanted to come here since he heard about it and we've spent hours researching it together. I'm going to surprise him for his birthday."
"So, this is a reconnaissance mission?"
"You could say that. I want to make sure it's safe for him. He's on the spectrum and there's lots of places that trigger him. Before I bring him anywhere new, I check it out first, look for warning signs, where the exits are, that sort of thing."
How cute was this man? "You're a great uncle."
"Yeah, well, it's a lot on my sister and her wife, especially recently, and ... Anyway, you want to watch the regatta?"
"Definitely."
We walked closer and watched as the boats lined up at the starting line, a rainbow of primary blue, red, and yellow, with white sails trimmed in matching colors. There were several buoys in the water, and as far as I could tell the boats had to do some sort of lap between them. The starters' gun went off, and there was a lot of excited yelling from the men and boys controlling the boats, some more accurately than others. The race ended with much cheering, and the boats were retrieved by their owners.
"You want to take a turn?" Jack said. "It's an open competition now. Anyone can enter. We just have to rent a boat."
I scanned the boat club building. There was a line of people at the rental window. "What if they're sold out?"
"I'm willing to chance it if you are."
I smiled. "Sure."
Jack pointed to a roped off area where the previous group of captains had been standing. "Why don't you go over there and hold our place by the starting line, and I'll get the boat?"
"Sounds good."
We parted and I walked to where the competitors were gathering.
"Only participants, Miss," an older man in his seventies said to me in a gruff voice. He had a whistle around his neck like a referee and was wearing a white polo shirt with a yacht club logo on it. All he was missing was the Captain's hat.
"Oh, my, uh, friend, is just getting our boat."
"All right, Miss. You stand over there."
I moved to where he was pointing, quickly realizing that the other participants were all kids with a max age of ten and their parents. One of them, a boy of about nine with black hair and pale skin, gave me an intense look as I stood next to him. He was dressed like one of the royal children, in short pants with socks pulled up to his knees and a cream crew sweater.
I scanned the line for Jack. He'd gotten a boat and controller and was walking back to me.
"Looks like we're a bit older than the competition," I said when he was by my side.
"I did tell you it was for my nephew."
"I guess we have to let the kids win?"
"We definitely do." Jack bent down and put the boat in the water. It was painted a dark blue and had white sails with matching trim. He gave it a little shove to get it going, then stood up.
"Cheating!" the black-haired child said, pointing at Jack. "Daddy, he's cheating!"
A larger and older version of the kid appeared from behind him and put his hand on the little yeller's shoulder. He was wearing a matching outfit, though he'd also tied an ascot around his neck and his pants reached his ankles. "Now, Kenny, the race hasn't even started yet."
"He pushed his boat!"
Jack gave them a wide smile. "I was just getting it into position."
"Yes, well, you see, Kenny here is very particular about the rules being followed."
"Well, as you said, the race hasn't started yet, and it's my first time doing this so..."
Kenny glared at Jack.
"Can you tell us what the rules are, Kenny?" I said, stooping down so my eyes were on level with his. "So we don't make a mistake again?"
Kenny scowled and held his remote control tightly to his chest.
"Come on, son," his dad encouraged him. "Tell the nice lady how it works."
"You can only use the wind!"
"Okay, sport, we got that," Jack said. "Won't happen again."
Kenny didn't look like he believed him, but his dad turned him away gently. I walked back to Jack. He had a remote in his hands. "You know how to work that thing?"
"They gave me a short demo at the booth, but I figure if a kid can do it, then how hard can it be?"
"Kenny seems pretty sure of himself," I whispered.
"Eh. I can take him." He fiddled with the remote and the boat started moving as it caught a small breeze. With some grunting and a lot of frustrated expressions, he got the boat to go to the rough approximation of the starting line, though it took tacking back and forth a couple of times to get there. By that time Jack was red in the face. "Don't laugh."
"I'm admiring your dedication to giving your nephew a good time."
"Thank you. You have any nieces or nephews?"
I watched the water dance in the sunlight. "No, I ... I guess I'm kind of an only child. I had a sister, but she died when I was ten."
"I'm so sorry, Chloe."
"It was a long time ago."
"How did she—" Jack stopped himself. "Sorry, I shouldn't pry, it's just ... My mom is sick, and she's in the hospital, and ..."
The starter made his way into the crowd. "Two-minute warning! Two minutes to get into position."
"Shit," Jack muttered. "How am I supposed to keep the boat here for two minutes?"
"Put it into the wind and let the sails go."
"You a sailor?"
"I was. I ..." God, I never talked about this, and certainly not on a first date. "My sister and I, growing up in Ohio, we spent our summers at sailing camp in Kentucky. But that's how she died, and I haven't been sailing since."
Jack's hands dropped and he almost let go of the remote. "I am so, so sorry. You should've said something."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine. This must bring it all back, and then I go prying and ..."
I touch his hand. "It was a long time ago, and this is just an innocent activity on a beautiful day."
"You sure?"
"One hundred percent. And I'm sorry about your mom, too. That must be a lot."
"It is." A cloud raced across his face. "Look, I should've said something before, and I don't know why I didn't, but—"
"We're starting in ten seconds! Boats in position!" The starter bellowed next to us, then raised his arm above his head. He was holding a cap gun. "Five, four, three, two ... boom!" The cap gun went off and the boats started moving slowly past the starting line.
"Come on, Jack, catch the wind!"
Jack was momentarily stunned, then concentrated on the controller and got the boat going slowly.
"Open up the mainsail some more," I said, long buried knowledge coming back to me. "Let it go out as far as you can."
Jack fiddled with the controls and the sail went into position. "This is much harder than it looks."
"It's easy!" Kenny said, a smirk on his face. "You're bad at it."
"Kenny," his father warned, then gave us a bemused expression. "Kids."
"Right," I said, then muttered to Jack. "That's not a kid. He's the devil."
"I'm glad Tyler's not here."
Jack's boat gained some speed as a gust of wind spread across the pond. He was still pretty far behind the other boats.
"Aim for that red buoy," I said. "Then you'll want to try to tack around it and get going back in the other direction."
"In English please."
"Try to turn the boat around that buoy and get going in the other direction. Like the other boats are doing."
He tried to hand me the remote. "You should do it."
"No, you're doing great. Besides, you wanted to impress your nephew, right? He'll be so excited when you win next time."
"Good point." Jack fiddled with the controls again, then made it to the buoy and around it. He gained on two of the other boats who were having a harder time with the maneuver. Once he was around the buoy, he opened his sail and caught a good wind, picking up speed.
"That's great! Keep trying to stay straight and you should overtake that other boat." I pointed to a red sailboat that was a few feet in front of him. He held the remote tightly as he approached the other boat. "I can't believe how stressed I am."
I giggled. "You're in a full sweat. What about letting the kids win?"
"I know. It's silly. I have this competitive streak—"
"Watch out!"
The red boat swerved to the left and rammed into ours, knocking it almost over onto its side. It didn't seem to be affected and sailed away quickly as our boat started spinning in a circle.
"What the hell?" Jack said. "What happened?"
I searched for the culprit and made eye contact with Kenny. He was grinning like a maniac.
"I thought you were against cheating, Kenny?" I said gently.
"I didn't cheat! Daddy! She accused me! She made an accusation!"
"He rammed our boat," I said to Kenny's father.
"He's just a kid!"
"It's fine, forget it."
"She has to apologize!"
Jack was shaking with laughter. It was contagious, and I started laughing too. Meanwhile, our boat looked like it might go down the drain.
"Daddy! They are laughing at me! Daddy!"
I turned away from Kenny and his dad and bent down to take off my shoes.
"What are you doing?" Jack asked.
"Rescuing our boat."
I pulled off my shoes and socks, then rolled up my jeans. I hoped over the small concrete wall and waded into the water. I could hear the shouts of others telling me to get out, but I ignored them. Then the referee started blowing his whistle at me like I was a kid at the community pool who'd broken the rules. I reached our boat, picked it up and carried it back to the side of the pond. The water was deeper than I thought and my jeans were soaked to the knees.
"You're disqualified!" Kenny said, pointing at me.
"No shit, kid."
"She sweared! Daddy!"
Jack hovered at the edge and held out his hand. He helped me out, and I handed him the boat. Jack shook his head, but his grin was wide, his eyes dancing. "I think we're out of the race."
"I'm thinking yes."
"I'm sorry, Chloe."
"What are you apologizing for? This was the most fun I've had in a long time."
"Really?"
"Honestly."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"Why don't we get that boat back and find somewhere where I can dry off?"
"Sounds like a plan."
Jack quickly returned the boat and came back with a towel.
"Where did that come from?" I asked.
"The gift shop." He handed it to me. It was white and had a sailing logo on it. "Thank you."
Jack pointed to a bench not far away. "Why don't we go sit there?"
"Good idea." I slipped my feet into my shoes, and we walked to the bench, my wet jeans tugging on my legs. I took a seat and used the towel to dry off. "I'm glad we did that."
Jack sat next to me. "It didn't bring up too many bad memories of your sister?"
I put my legs out in front of me, letting the sun dry them, and kicked off my shoes. "No. Honestly, I mostly only have good memories of her."
"We don't have to talk about it."
"I know. I don't usually." I glanced at Jack. "I'm surprised I told you." I kicked myself for saying that last part. "Anyway, it reminded me of how much I used to love sailing. I should go back to it. Conquer my fears and all that."
"It's okay to be afraid. Some things are scary."
"Kenny was scary."
Jack chuckled. "He was. But I guess some people might find Tyler like that, too."
"Is he a lot?"
"Sometimes. It's been hard on my sister and her wife. Especially with my mom sick."
I touched his knee. "I am so sorry about that."
"One day she seems fine, and the next ... This has been a great distraction." He stopped, shook his head. "That came out wrong. I just meant it's been fun to hang out."
"It has."
He stood up.
My heart sank. "Do you have to go?"
"What? No, no, I'm just hungry. That friends with eggs benefits or whatever was good, but it feels like we ate a thousand years ago."
"A thousand, huh?"
"A hundred at least."
I raised my head and shaded my eyes from the sun. "I could eat."
He pulled out his phone and tapped at it. His eyes lit up. "Perfect."
"What?"
"Do you trust me?"
"Should I?"
"About this, definitely."
"It would help if you told me what this is."
"Only the best food truck in New York."
"Oh, yeah?"
"I promise you. Any food allergies I should be aware of?"
"Nope."
"Great. Wait here. I'll be right back."
I watched Jack lope off toward the street and smiled to myself. For a day that started with the near certainty of being stood up, it had taken a fantastic turn. I pulled out my phone and texted Kit.
Thank you.
For what?
Jack. He's great.
Not so great for me. Still no email. Wait, you're still with him?
I wasn't but we ran into each other at the Met.
I TOLD YOU TO GO THERE!
Yes, yes.
And yet you doubt my powers.
I don't. Magical Kit. It's your new name forever.
She sent me a praying hands emoji and I tucked my phone away. I knew it was a dangerous thing to think, but I couldn't keep my mind from going there. Everything about this day felt perfect. I could already imagine telling the girls at work about it—how we'd gone from worst date status to best, just like in the books we curated.
I stopped myself. This wasn't high school, and I didn't need to be mentally writing my name and his in intertwined hearts.
That could wait till the second date at least.