There are over 70 thousand apartment buildings and over a million residential apartments crammed into New York City's 300-square miles. One may say it was the low, yet still ridiculously high, rent at The Mare's Nest that drew her in. Or the fact it...
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Fire crackles in front of Mara and Harry. Yellow, orange and blue waves squirm above the logs, flowing up the only working chimney of the Mare's Nest in his apartment and out into the open New York sky, up to the stars over the sleeping and awake heads of city dwellers.
Mara's frizzy curls, now dry, hit the tops of her shoulders, which are wrapped in one of Betty's handmade quilts. Underneath, she wears his oversized white Rolling Stones shirt and baggy sweats, the smell of fresh laundry detergent pressed against her skin.
"Cup of cocoa, comin' right up." Harry joins her in front of the fire, two mugs in hand, each one with a hefty layer of mini marshmallows and whipped cream, both also homemade by Betty, atop the frothy milk.
Mara takes a cautious sip. "Oh my god. That's amazing! What chocolate do you use? Ghirardelli?"
"It's some local chocolate I got from a farmer's market. Melted it down real quick and whisked it in. My grandpa's recipe, actually. He wasn't much of a cook or baker like Betty but he could make a wonderful cup of hot chocolate. This and chili."
"Mmm, a winter chef. The best food is always born in cold weather, I say." She dips her finger into the light whipped cream, melting and settling, and places the sweetness on the tip of her tongue. "From what Betty has told me, he sounds like he was a great man. Do you miss him?"
"Every day." Harry gives a melancholy smile and takes a drink from his own cup. He grabs the blanket around her and starts pointing to the pieces compiling the covering. "This blanket here is special. Made up of shirts from mine, Grandfather's and Grandmum's cross-country trip we took not too long after my parent's passed. They're old souvenir shirts we bought along the way. See here?" Harry grabs the corner of the blanket and holds it in front of her face. "This is from the Redwood Coast in California. We drove through a giant tree. Grandfather kept making jokes that we were on a mission and if we weren't careful, the tree would collapse on us. The tree broke the side mirrors clean off when we drove through!" Harry laughs, running his fingers across the ink of the tree design on the shirt and reminiscing.
"I think that's the most you've ever talked!" The light behind Mara's eyes illuminate with joy at the sound of Harry's voice and openness. He was starting to feel comfortable with her. This is a moment she's been waiting for quite some time now.
Harry drops his head, embarrassed. Even in the dim light, she can see the blushing red of his cheeks. To hide the vibrant color, he takes a deep drink of his cocoa. He doesn't use the handle. Instead, he holds the cup on either side to warm his bones.
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I love it." She gently pulls at his wrist to bring the painted mug, decorated by hand by Harry, to reveal his face again. A detailed design of star-lit sky and camping spot depicted on the tin. "You know, if you know your grandpa's chili recipe, Betty said she'd teach me her famous cornbread recipe. Should we make it a date?"
