“
Depressing.
”
Granna clarifies through laughter.
“
It was either uplifting classical or something depressing.
”
“
Maybe a little,
”
Mom concedes.
“
I never argued. Whatever inspired him seemed to inspire me.
”
“
So should we go tonight? After dinner? Check it out?
”
“
Do you think they
’
d let us see it this late?
”
“
I know they would. I bought it.
”
Silence falls over the table. Mom puts her fork down and takes a long sip of her wine.
“
You didn
’
t.
”
“
Yes, I did.
”
“
I want to go!
”
I say, excited to see this place where he worked and lived.
“
Why did you buy it?
”
“
I
’
ve wanted it back for the longest time.
”
“
What for? Your house is already too big for you and James!
”
“
For the view, I don
’
t know... for the memories of him. There were many times over the past ten years that I
’
ve wished I could go look out that window, and see the city how he saw it.
”
“
Donna, I never knew you felt that way. I feel bad–
”
“
No, Emi, don
’
t feel bad for selling it. I wanted you to. And look at what we did with the money. That afforded us the Art Room, and we
’
ve changed so many lives. I couldn
’
t have taken it back then when you sold it. It was still too soon, too fresh.
“
But now, I
’
ve been there a few times. I had someone decorate it. I plan to use it as a guest apartment–not that we typically have guests, but maybe it
’
s something we can keep in the family.
”
Her gaze lingers on me as she says this.
“
Like, I could stay there sometime?
”
“
When you
’
re older, maybe,
”
my mom says.
“
Possibly live there.
”
My eyes get wide at the suggestion.
“
Possibly?
”
Granna looks at Mom, unsure that she should have mentioned anything.
“
Can we go now, please?
”
“
Livvy, finish your dinner first,
”
Mom says, avoiding Granna
’
s stare.
“
We can go after di
nner.
”
She glances up
and looks across the table.
“
We couldn
’
t let you give that loft to her. It
’
s out of the question.
”
“
Okay,
”
Granna says simply.
“
Mom,
”
I whine.
“
No, Liv, this isn
’
t negotiable, okay? You
’
re sixteen and far too young to be house hunting. Come on, eat up so we can sneak over there. I
’
m pretty sure your dad would oppose.
”
“
I won
’
t tell him.
”
I put my arms around her shoulders and hug her tightly.
“
Thank you!
”
When the waiter asks if we would like dessert, I answer for everyone with a quick
no
. I get no argument from either of the women, and I can tell they
’
re just as excited to go as I am.
Granna
’
s driver takes us the ten blocks to the loft. When we exit at the curb, we
’
re greeted by a valet, and then by a doorman who speaks to us formally.
“
Mrs. Schraeder,
”
he says.
“
Mrs. and Miss Holland, it
’
s a pleasure to have you all here tonight.
”
“
Thank you, Francisco. I
’
m going to take them up to have a look at the place. But please, if Emi here ever stops by, please give her the spare key and let her come up. She
’
s welcome anytime. And, of course, she would want privacy so we wouldn
’
t want to make a scene of things.
”
“
Of course, ma
’
am.
”
“
And please, call me Donna.
”
“
Of course, Donna.
”
“
And Livvy, too–
”
“
But not alone,
”
my mom corrects her.
“
Livvy, you shouldn
’
t ever come here alone, okay?
”
“
Okay,
”
I respond, bouncing on the balls of my feet, anxious to go upstairs.
“
It
’
s a pleasure to meet you, Francisco,
”
Mom says as she shakes his hand.
“
Likewise.
”
“
Let
’
s go,
”
Granna says, guiding us toward the elevator. My mother sighs as the doors close us in.
“
I haven
’
t been here since we moved everything out,
”
she says.
“
It looks very different. We painted the walls. The hardwood was refinished at some point. It looks very nice, but it doesn
’
t look like his place. Or even
your
place,
”
she says with a smile. The elevator opens to a sparse hallway with three doors: two on the right and one on the left, which is apparently Nate
’
s apartment–or what used to be his apartment.
A clean, modern, open
floor plan
spans in front of us. Most of the colors are muted, except for the ones used in his paintings, which hang from select walls around the loft.
“
Wow.
”
“
You say it looks different,
”
Mom whispers as we walk inside,
“
but I think it looks exactly the same. The layout... the view. It
’
s just as I remember it.
”
She looks sad, taking slow steps toward a large bed in the middle of the main room of the loft.
“
I love the comforter,
”
she adds, picking up a pillow and pulling it into her chest as she sits down, facing the wall of windows.
“
Sometimes the moon was so bright, it would keep me awake at night. I always thought he should have curtains, but even when I moved in, I couldn
’
t obstruct that view.
”
I wander over to the windows to have a look. The park is right across the street, and from this height, you can see the tops of all the trees. Many of the paved pathways are visible because the majority of the trees are barren from the winter cold. Beyond the park stands building after building. This view is the perfect mix of nature and industrialism. This is New York at its best.
“
It
’
s unbelievable. If I lived here, I
’
d never leave!
”
I tell my mother and Granna.
“
Your dad proposed to me in the guest bedroom,
”
Mom says, getting up and setting the pillow down carefully.
“
I
’
ll show you.
”
She starts to go into the next room, but stops, waiting for me. I can see her image in the reflection of the windows.
“
Don
’
t you want to see, Livvy?
”
I shrug my shoulders, staring at a couple in the park.
“
So where did Nate paint in here?
”
I ask.
“
All over. Wherever the inspiration struck. He
’
d move furniture around if he wanted. Most of the time, though, he painted by the windows, typically in natural light, whether is was daylight or moonlight. He didn
’
t like artificial lighting very much.
”
“
I don
’
t either.
”
“
You
’
ve mentioned that.
”
“
That
’
s the only thing I hate about my studio in the basement. It would be so much cooler to paint here.
”
I turn around, liking the idea.
“
I
’
d bring my drop cloth. I
’
d be really careful not to get anything on the floor or furniture.
”
“
Maybe some weekend days you and I can come over here,
”
Mom says.
“
Just for a few hours or so.
”
“
That would be so cool. Sundays, right? Because Saturdays are reserved for Jon.
”
“
Of course they are,
”
Mom says.
“
Sure, Sundays. Maybe the boys could go to the park when the weather
’
s nicer.
”
“
I don
’
t want them to come with us,
”
I tell her.
“
Well, I wouldn
’
t want to leave them out, Liv. But I can guarantee your dad won
’
t want to spend much time in the loft, if that
’
s what you
’
re worried about.
”
“
Him, and I don
’
t want Trey getting into everything.
”
“
Livvy, he
’
s a good kid and he knows to leave your stuff alone.
”
“
Still.
”
She rolls her eyes at me.
“
Show me where Jacks proposed,
”
Granna says to Mom, who smiles immediately. I can tell she
’
s remembering that day. I turn back around, looking for the couple I had been watching.
“
Mom?
”
“
Yeah?
”
she calls from the other room.
“
Where were those pictures of you and Nate taken? The one that your friend made an album of...
”
“
Those were taken at Central Park,
”
she answers me.
“
I know that, but where, exactly? Can you see it from the window?
”
“
I doubt it, Liv.
”
I wait for her, but she doesn
’
t come back into the room. I finally seek her out.
“
Why
’
d Dad propose here, if he hated this place so much?
”
“
He was struggling to surprise me,
”
she says.
“
I knew it was coming, and every time we
’
d go somewhere special, I kept thinking he was going to do it then. But then he never would.
“
I had planned a special night here. I was trying to let him know that I wasn
’
t willing to move out of the loft yet. I wanted to explain to him why I didn
’
t want to go, and I was going to try to give him some incentive. I would move out when we got married. In a sense, I was trying to manipulate him into asking me.