Caroline
Caroline stepped in the slush again and swore. She hadn’t brought real boots with her on this trip; she hadn’t really glanced at the weather, to tell the truth. Living in Charleston had made her forgetful. Still, she thought walking down into the Union Square subway station, the cold wasn’t all that bad. It was keeping her awake, at least.
She ran through her recent bad luck as the 4 train roared into the drafty stop. Sleeping through her alarm the morning of her flight; also forgetting her contact lenses; having to share a room with two of her cousins. And now this. This dinner party Caroline was now late to, because she had forgotten that Talia was “gluten free” and wouldn’t be able to eat her perfectly normal chocolate chip banana bread. Caroline had spent the last three hours frantically running to the grocery store and baking a new loaf, hours she should have spent taking a shower and practicing what to say to people she hadn’t seen in three years. She exhaled. It was fine. Everything would be fine.
On the subway, Caroline slipped off her coat and (subtly, she wouldn’t break that New Yorker cardinal rule) looked around the car. A small woman with an energetic kid, an elderly Asian couple with cameras around their necks, a loud group of teenagers with backpacks in hand. The same as ever. Caroline had left the city after high school and “never looked back,” as the phrase usually went, but she looked back a lot. Charleston was perfect: for college and for being 23, unsure of what to do next. Her friends were great, her job was good, and her love life was subpar but probably better than it would be in any other city. Still, sometimes she felt like moving back to New York was inevitable.
She reached into her bag to feel the banana bread as she stepped back into the cold. It was still warm through the tinfoil. Maybe she shouldn’t be so hard on Talia. After all, she was hosting all eight of them, which hadn’t happened since the first winter break after they finished high school. It was a nice gesture, Caroline reminded herself. “People change,” she said out loud to herself. Talia’s street, dimly lit and gorgeous, threatened to paralyze her. The lights were on in her brownstone, and Caroline could make out indistinct shapes in the window. She stood for a moment.
People changed. Hadn’t she?
