Thirty-Four

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. Oh, bugger!” Ben hugged his knees and refused to look down from his perch on the huge black boulder rising from Heckscher Playground in Central Park.

He’s such a joker. Riley dusted off her hands as several little kids, all giggles and dirty knees, scrambled past on the forty-by-fifteen-foot rock. “Isn’t it great? Don’t you feel invigorated, climbing up here?”

“Invigorated—no. I think I might see that pretzel again.”

“Ben!” She adjusted her sunglasses on top of her head. “Come on, the view is better higher up.”

“Higher?” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “No, I’ll wait here, Hope.”

“We’re barely off the ground. This is nothing compared to what I used to climb…”

“Showoff.” His voice cracked.

He’s not joking. Shit, he’s freaked out. “Aw, Ben, I’m SO sorry! If I had known…” She put her arm around his shoulders. “Look, we can go—”

“Got ya!” He laughed, leaning into her. “I’m not scared of heights. Spiders? Hell, yes. Heights, nah!”

“You goof!” Riley gave him a friendly shove.

“See? I AM a great actor! I’ll be an Oscar winner in no time.”

“I believe it.” She laughed, her eyes sweeping over the playground’s splash pad at the foot of the rock. “Ah, I have so many memories here.”

“You really love this, eh?”

“Yeah. I learned a lot climbing these rocks.”

“What, like it hurts to hit the ground?”

“Smartass!” She picked at the tear in the knee of her jeans. “When I was eleven, Mom and I came to Central Park for a free summer concert. Such a weird day. Dad was marrying Clarissa that afternoon, so Mom brought me here for hot dogs, the zoo, a boat ride. None of it cheered me up, though. I was angry…heartbroken, like why bother? We were headed toward the subway and I spied this big old guy, Rat Rock.” She patted the dark stone.

“Rat Rock?” Ben’s eyes bulged. “Do I even want to know…”

“Its official name is Umpire Rock, but climbers christened it Rat Rock because it used to be crawling—”

“With rats. Ugh.” Ben cringed and closed his eyes. “Now I really do want down!”

She squinted into the sun. “I hadn’t climbed for, jeez, maybe two years? Bouldering was something I did with Dad, but when we walked past, this crazy urge grabbed me. Mom paused to check her voicemail and I went for it, clawing my way up the steep north side. I’ve never seen her get off her phone so quick. God, she was mad—I guess it was a stupid thing to do. That side is like a wall, and I didn’t have chalk or a crash pad in case I fell.”

Ben shook his head. “Chalk?”

“Climbers use chalk to keep their hands dry, for a better grip. Mom was yelling at me—‘Get down here right, now!’—but I ignored her.” Her fingers traced the rock, the touch quickening her pulse. “It all came back to me—which creases were the right size for the toes of my sneakers, where to stick my fingers. I hoisted myself up halfway, a good five feet, then I slipped…”

“Jesus, Riley!”

“Mom freaked, people stared. I was dangling by one hand. I wasn’t scared, though—I just remember feeling angry—angry at Dad for hurting Mom, for leaving us both, for marrying that stupid woman. I think there was a moment where I wondered, What happens if I just let go right now?”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“And you know what I realized? I’d be letting him WIN. He threw us both away like we weren’t good enough, and if I let go, I’d be proving him right, proving I was a loser and didn’t have it in me to climb to the top without him there. So, just as some guys said they’d catch me, my adrenaline kicked in and I shouted at the top of my lungs, ‘FUCK YOU, DAD!’ I used every muscle I had to reach up and across, got my hand into a crevice, and then I got my feet back in place, made it all the way to the top.”

Ben smiled. “I so wish we’d been friends as kids. We could’ve bonded, swearing about our shit dads.”

“Oh, I didn’t get away with that. I was grounded for a month. Mom threatened to wash my mouth out with soap. Never did, though.”

“So,” said Ben, patting the rock, “right here is where the feisty was born.”

“Maybe, but sometimes I need a reminder.” She smiled softly. “Thanks for being a good sport, Ben, climbing up here.”

“No probs. I think I’m gonna win our game of Never Dunnit—I deserve bonus points for risking life and limb today, just sayin’!”

She laughed, noticing a loose shoelace. “I still don’t believe the eighties club was the first time you’ve ever snuck in somewhere without paying.”

“Believe it. It’s true.”

“So, was the climb up here your favorite part of our Central Park tour?”

“Nope. That big lake with the turtles!” His playful grin was so infectious, Riley’s smile grew, too.

Turtles? Aw, bonus points to the cute Brit for loving turtles.

“And those arches with the tiled ceiling near the fountain. That was pretty cool.”

“Bethesda Fountain?” She tied her lace. “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“The walk along the Mall.” Her eyes jumped to his socks. A face was peeking out between his jeans and sneakers. Is that…Santa Claus? The smile on her face reached for her ears. “I love how the benches face each other under the canopy of trees. It’s so peaceful and calm—right in the middle of the city, you can just stroll, eat ice cream, check out the artists and street performers. I love it.”

“Fancy an ice cream now?” Ben squinted into the sun. “I’d kill for an ice lolly.”

“You just want down.”

“No, don’t call the fire brigade yet. Give me twenty minutes, I might go full-on Spidey, clambering all the way up.”

“Bravery, thy name is Benjamin!” Riley snickered. “Well, while you plan your ascent, I’ll go grab us ice cream. What do you want?”

“Surprise me. Something silly.”

“Oh, you’ll regret saying that!” Riley laughed and slid down the rock, joining a bunch of squealing kids at the bottom. I’m so glad we’re hanging out. She jogged over to the vendor’s cart, her wait a lengthy one if the messy line of excitable children and their parents was anything to go by. Pushing up her sleeves, she smiled at Ben and shouted, “Don’t go anywhere!”

Watching her, he stretched out his legs and fished his phone from his front pocket, his Facebook app flagging a rare notification. With a finger tap, a post opened featuring a photo of Riley luminous in a sunny yellow dress. Her arms were full, hugging her mom and a retriever, its pink tongue lolling out the side of its mouth as it leaned against her. Below their loving embrace, a single sentence: