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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Harry never regretted his lack of haircut until now. He runs his fingers through the unruly, brown mane and attempts to tame each curl, which of course have never been touched save the tousle of an old towel post shower.
He tries to flatten the bent lapel of his grandpa's navy corduroy blazer as Betty watches her grandson primp.
"Such a handsome man you are," she says, struggling to stand. She saunters over to Harry and helps with the styling of his hair. "And you finally fit into this old jacket. I remember this. Your grandfather took me to that old Chinese food restaurant — King's Palace — in this jacket and I can still see the look on his face when they brought out a duck, beak and all, and put it on the table." Betty laughs at the memory.
"Knock, knock!" Charlie steps into Betty's apartment, a bouquet of wildflowers in hand. "I have your emergency bouquet, Harry. What's the big event?"
"Harry's going to see Mara tonight and meet her mom," Betty answers before Harry can respond. "He wants to make a good impression."
"Grandmum..." Harry comments, slightly embarrassed. He feels like a teenager on the way to prom. "B-b-but... technically... she's... my girlfriend's mum. First impression wasn't great."
"Girlfriend?!" Betty beams. "Did you hear that, Charlie? My grandson has a girlfriend. I quite like her too." She adjusts Harry's tie with great pride. Never would she have guessed she'd witness such a moment. She always knew what a catch her grandson is and she wished every night that just one, well-mannered, sweet girl would recognized that. And she adored Mara. The words were like music to her ears.
Harry chose to keep his exclusivity with Mara and his interaction with Kathleen a secret up until now and with good reason. Harry's quiet behavior was a result of his worries. He worried that the rug would be ripped out from underneath of him if he announced good news aloud. Betty is also a mama bear of sorts. He knew if she heard the way Kathleen treated him earlier, it would be the end of any possible friendship between Kathleen and Betty and they were all that was left of Mara and Harry's respective families.
He also understands Kathleen's reaction. There Mara was. Her beautiful daughter, capable of conquering the world with just a small spark from her smile. And there he was. Equipt with dirty hands and a nervous smile. If he had a daughter like Mara, he'd be skeptical of any man that stepped into her life. He was well aware that she deserved something above and beyond your average human. She deserves the stars.
"Thank you, Charlie," Harry gives gratitude and grabs the bushel of sunflowers, lavender and baby's breath from his tenant's hands. "They aren't expecting me. Do you think that's okay?"
"As long as you show up with a smile on your face and those sweet smelling flowers in your hand," Charlie answers. "Harry, any mom would be lucky to have a hardworking man like you at their doorstep to be with their daughter. Your grandmother here did a great job raising you."
"Thank you, Charles," Betty smiles.
Harry nervously looks at the pocket watch his granddad left him. He fidgets with the clasp and chain before stuffing it back into the pocket of his best-fitting jeans. The ones that have the least amount of paint stains on them. The ones he saved for special occasions.
"Wish me luck," he requests, kissing his grandmother on the cheek and giving Charlie a quick hug.
Each step up to Mara's apartment feels like a mile and he's a runner in a daunting marathon. He keeps his head down, watching as his worn black boots press their soles against the distressed wood of the walk up. His lungs tighten. Like he's closing in on the top of Mount Everest, sans oxygen tank.
"Hi, Kathleen," he mumbles to himself. He practices his second greeting. "I apologize for earlier. I was working and..."
Harry struggles to figure out his explanation. Then his foot hits the highest step. The song "Sh-Boom" by The Chords plays in his head as he sees the yellow door he's come to love so much.
Life could be a dream (sh-boom) If I could take you up in paradise up above (sh-boom) If you would tell me I'm the only one that you love Life could be a dream, sweetheart Hello, hello again, sh-boom and hopin' we'll meet again
He imagines he's the lead of a black-and-white film. He'd adjust his boutonniere. She'd answer the door in her perfectly pressed poodle skirt. They'd have a laugh as the song plays over their exuberance. He'd extend the bend of his elbow as he's escorted in to dazzle her mother.
Harry couldn't help but sometimes imagine his life as the old movies he loved so dearly. They were an escape of his. He had watched a few modern flicks here and there but they all seemed to lack the spirit and romance of the eras before. They were chivalrous and sweet and humble.
Illuminated by the bright paint of the door, he can practically hear the skip of the record as he reaches out to knock. His near-greeting is interrupted by the sound of yelling on the other side of the door. It's Mara's worried voice.
"I mean really sees me. And makes me feel beautiful and smart and important and showed me all the things I should have already felt about myself. Rob wanted me to be as quiet as a mouse but Harry loves even my stomping because he knows that I'm close. He takes care of his grandmother and tends to the garden and chickens on the roof and reads my favorite stories just so we have something to talk about when we have dinner. He's an amazing person and has made me realize that I'm an amazing person and I'm not willing to give that up."
Harry tunes out the rest of the conversation but his heart glows at the bit he heard. He hates that Mara is clearly arguing with her mom but no one, other than Betty, has ever stood up for him in such a way. He zones out but the sound of Mara's jiggling door handle brings him out of his brief meditation.
"Oh," Kathleen says. She sees Harry already standing there, flowers in hand, hair messily styled, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
"I did it again, didn't I?" Harry nervously laughs.
"Wait. What? No, it's okay," Kathleen responds. "These are beautiful. Lemme take these for Mara."
"No... I actually brought those for you," he replies, bowing his head and passing the cluster of beauties over to Mara's mom. He continues his rehearsed apology. Not rehearsed in an inauthentic sense. But rehearsed in a nervous, this-is-the-only-way-I-can-say-this sense. "I apologize for earlier. I was working and I wasn't expecting to meet you and I wish I was better prepared. Y'know... more presentable."
"Harry?" Mara steps to the doorframe beside her mom.
"I'm sorry. I'm interrupting. I know you weren't expecting me." Harry begins to walk away and back down the stairs.
Kathleen watches as the nervous super quickly tries to escape her presence. Based on what Mara has told her and his reaction in this moment, she can tell that he's a good seed. Everything she wished Mara would find. Robert was successful and was of course a good match on paper. Any mom would be over the moon for her daughter to be paired with a handsome business man. But he clearly isn't the sweet person he made everyone think he is. Harry, on the other hand, has an aura Kathleen can't shake. He is Jack Lemmon in "The Apartment."
"Wait!" Kathleen calls. She walks up to Harry and wraps her arms around him in a welcoming, half-drunk hug. "Don't apologize. Come inside for a drink."
