(How did Angelo manage to get the note in my locker, you might ask? The answer is that I have absolutely no idea. I don’t know how Angelo does 90 percent of the things in life, but I do know that it’s best not to ask too many questions about it.)
All of midtown was in chaos, thanks to the autumn tourists and the parade that was happening on Seventh Avenue, and traffic was a nightmare because of it. After twenty minutes of going only three blocks, I couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m good,” I told the driver. “Just let me out here.”
“It’s my assignment to get you to your location,” he replied, and his voice was a monotone, kind of how the robots will probably sound when they take over the planet.
“Um, thanks, pal, but another twenty minutes of hearing those cymbals is going to give me a migraine.” I gathered up my bag and climbed out just as the cymbal section was passing by, which was a terrible decision on my part.
By the time I made it to Paley Park, I was half-deaf and all cranky. Angelo was sitting in one of the wire mesh chairs, as neat and prim as one could be while a parade raged just a block away. “We meet again.” He smiled when he saw me, but the smile faded as I plopped down into the chair next to him. “Oh, dear. Bad day?”
“Bad everything,” I said. “Why is there a parade? Why is there always a parade? And why do there always have to be cymbals in that parade?”
Angelo merely pushed his tea toward me. “Thanks, Angelo,” I said. It’s hard to be angry and frustrated when people do nice things for you, and I knew that sacrificing his tea was a big deal for Angelo. “I’m sorry, I’ll de-crank in a minute.”
He merely nodded and waited while I sipped. The waterfall was really beautiful, especially against the backdrop of the yellow-leaved trees, and despite the crowds on the streets, only a few people had taken refuge in the hidden patio. The sound of the water drowned out the parade, and after three sips, I was already feeling better.
“Thanks,” I said again. “Really. I’m back to being me. What’s up? Nice drawing, by the way. You should do something with that. Put together a book.”
“How do you know I haven’t?” Angelo replied.
“Touché.”
“And there’s nothing important going on, my love. I just wanted to see how you were doing. There seems to be a lot of responsibility on your shoulders.”
“You think?” I said. “I’m fine.”
Angelo raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes. Fine. A lovely sounding word that means absolutely nothing.”
I pressed my knees together and covered them with my hands. I was wearing tights but they did nothing to keep the November chill away. I wondered what us private-school girls were supposed to do in January and February.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I said. “All systems go.”
I didn’t even believe myself, though, and Angelo wasn’t buying it either.
“Well, if you say so,” he said. “Shall I get you an espresso?” He motioned to the cart that was at the patio entrance. “It’s not the best the city has to offer, but I know how you feel about dodging cymbals.”
I thought for a minute. There was something about sitting outside in the cold that didn’t make me want coffee or hot chocolate or tea. In fact, there was only one food I was craving.
“Could I have some ice cream?” I asked.
Five minutes later, I was spooning up chocolate ice cream with the flat little wooden paddle spoon that always felt like it was about to give me a splinter in my lip. “So,” Angelo started again. “You say that you’re fine, but you’re eating ice cream on one of the coldest days of the year.”
“So?”
“And you seem a bit upset about parades.”
“Well, I think that’s a normal reaction.”
“For you?”
I sighed and sat back in my uncomfortable chair. The waterfall was loud, I realized, almost too loud. “Did you get me here for a reason?” I asked him. “Because it’s sort of deafening. Like, so maybe no one could overhear us if we were talking about important things?”
Angelo merely smiled. “One could assume that, yes.”
“Should one assume that?”
“Let me put it this way.” Angelo leaned forward and folded his hands in his lap before making direct eye contact with me. “If one should have something that he or she would like to say, this would be an excellent time to do just that. But I make no demands. I just offer an ear.”
And of course I burst into tears.
“Everything is all messed up!” I cried. “I’m doing it all wrong, my parents think I’m screwing up, and there’s this crazy amount of pressure and these school uniforms are terrible and sexist, too!” I used my chocolate ice cream-smeared napkin to wipe my eyes. “And I think I made a big mistake, too. Like, really big. The size of the solar system big.”
Angelo unfolded his handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to me. “Thank you.” I sniffled. It had a large A stitched into one corner, which was so Angelo. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had ninety-nine more of them in a drawer at home. “It’s just been really hard and I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” he suggested. “It just so happens that I have quite a bit of time on my hands this afternoon.”
“Is that so?” I asked.