Valentine's Dream. Carmen Green

you something first. It won’t take long, and then we can find a place.” He opened the passenger door and held it for her.

      Grace didn’t move. She was puzzled and more than a little suspicious. “What’s going on?’

      “Remember I told you about viewing some apartments? I want your advice. Are you with me?”

      She slowly nodded. “Okay.”

      “Good.”

      During the ride, Carter told her about the apartments that had been arranged for him to see in Battery Park City, an enclave several blocks away from the site of the former World Trade Center towers. Grace listened as he tried to describe the area, but she confessed that she didn’t know anything about that part of Lower Manhattan. She was surprised that he would consider living there but flattered that he cared about what she thought. Grace also felt a rising apprehension that Carter’s move to New York was becoming real. He’d be able to spend time with Madison. That meant spending time with her.

      For all the new construction and the contemporary sleekness of the high-rise buildings, the manufactured parks and promenades, and upscale shops and restaurants in Battery Park City, Grace found the setting sterile and artificial. Carter parked behind one such rectangular high-rise and led her through a maze of security procedures. Before they’d even boarded the elevator, Grace hated every inch of what she’d seen so far. This was a place for men and women whose lives were ruled by work and the clock. It was a residence, but not a home. It was fine for singles and couples, but terrible for a family.

      As Carter led the way into one of the apartments on his list, on a floor high enough to induce a nosebleed, Grace couldn’t help but wonder if this was really the way he wanted to live. The rooms were rather small, except for the master bedroom, which had a walk-in closet, a large dressing room area, a Jacuzzi in the bathroom and heating racks for towels. One wall of the bedroom was almost entirely glass and overlooked the Hudson River and the undistinguished shoreline of New Jersey on the other side. She watched Carter’s broad shoulders and his erect posture as he stared silently out the window.

      “There isn’t much room for... Do you expect to get married some day? Do you see yourself having kids?” she asked carefully, not sure if she was crossing the line of “too personal.”

      He turned to face her and seemed mildly surprised by the question. “Definitely. What do you think?” Carter asked.

      “It’s nice,” Grace said politely.

      “You hate it,” he said without rancor. “Be honest with me—that’s why I brought you to see it.”

      “Carter, it really doesn’t matter what I think. I don’t have to live here, or raise a family here.”

      “But you have a woman’s point of view, and that’s important. I trust you. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

      Grace felt trapped and sighed helplessly. She looked around again, hoping to find one redeeming quality, one positive thing to say about the space, for his sake.

      “It will work fine for your lifestyle,” Grace began, trying to sound enthusiastic. “You have a fast-track life right now. You could make this place comfortable, simple and easy to maintain. And it’s not permanent, right? You can always get something different in a few years, if anything changes.”

      “I expect it to,” Carter said, watching her move about the empty rooms.

      They went to see two more apartment units, but to Grace’s thinking, there wasn’t much difference between them. It was hard to generate excitement about places that seemed little more than compartmentalized boxes. It was hard to imagine Carter living in any of them, with or without a significant other.

      They finished seeing the last place and headed back to the elevator. The presence of other passengers forestalled any conversation until they were both back in the car. She was relieved when he didn’t question her further right away but turned the conversation to his work and what his new responsibilities would be. He drove in search of someplace to eat. Grace could tell that he was excited about starting again in New York, but she was sure she detected an edge, almost an uncertainty, to his excitement. It was understandable, given all the changes Carter was going through in such a short period of time.

      He took her to a small, well-known restaurant near South Street Seaport. Grace was very familiar with its name and reputation but had never eaten there herself. She hadn’t done much fancy dining of the adult variety beyond the children’s birthdays, Christmas and Halloween. She’d looked forward to lunch with Carter, but as they were seated, Grace felt a warm lethargy overtake her, which she didn’t understand. Carter also seemed pensive, with a disquiet underlying his conversation all through the meal. It was over cappuccino that she finally addressed his quiet mood.

      “Is everything okay? You seem a little distracted. I hope it wasn’t because of what I said about those apartments.”

      The rest of her comment stuck in her throat as Carter reached across the table and took hold of her hand. She stared at his hand and then into his eyes, their expression protected behind the lenses of his glasses. But she could tell by his eye movement that he was closely monitoring the changes on her face.

      “Maybe I was testing you.”

      “Testing me? What for?”

      “I wasn’t sure if you still hated me.”

      Grace stared at him. “Where on earth did you get that idea? I don’t hate you.”

      He adjusted his glasses but finally took them off and laid them, folded, next to his plate. He regarded her silently. To Grace, it somehow felt as if they were much closer together. She felt enveloped by Carter’s gaze, by the memory of two small moments between them that had changed everything.

      “When Benson first introduced us, six months before you two got married, that’s how I felt. Those were the vibes you seemed to be sending me.”

      Slowly, the shock faded, and she became reflective. “You know, it’s funny you would say that,” she murmured. “I always thought you hated me. And what has any of that to do with where you’re going to live when you move to New York?”

      “I needed to know what you really thought about me. How well do you know me? How much do you care?”

      He paused, but Grace remained still and silent, her insides roiling. She felt an overpowering sense of intimacy, drawn into his dark gaze.

      “If you were indifferent, it wouldn’t matter if I wanted to live at the Plaza or a Ramada Inn, in Battery Park or Harlem. But I felt like you were really considering what was right for me.”

      “I can’t believe you’d be happy in any of those places we saw.”

      “That’s what I wanted to find out, Grace.”

      She was still confused. “But, why?”

      “Was I just Benson’s best friend, or can I be your friend, too? Can we start with that?”

      “I don’t hate you,” she repeated. “But when we first met, I thought...well, I thought you were arrogant and unfriendly. I felt like you looked down on me, like you didn’t think I was good enough for Benson. You never seemed to smile when I was around, and you never made much attempt to talk to me. What was I supposed to think?”

      Carter’s expression looked strained. He seemed both surprised and sad by her observations, and shook his head.

      “I didn’t realize I was coming across that way. I’m really sorry you felt that way all those years, but you did touch on something that was partially true.”

      “What?” she questioned cautiously.

      “It’s not that I thought Benson was too good for you. It was the reverse. I thought you were probably too good for him.”

      “Really?”

      “Don’t get me wrong, Benson was a great guy. He was street-smart