Page 64 of The Lies I've Told
I knew he wanted to argue with me, but I couldn’t listen to it.
I had an entire day planned with Millie, and I was going to enjoy every second, because, soon, that was all I’d have left.
Days, minutes…and finally, seconds.
And then I’d have to let her go.
Forever.
When I’d promised Millie a day to remember, I hadn’t been lying. I wanted her to see New York—the real New York, not the tiny sliver she’d been accustomed to all those years of flying in and out for business.
So, first, we did a few touristy things—things I hadn’t even done in my fifteen years of living here. We went to the top of the Empire State Building and took cheesy photos together while wind whipped through our hair, and the world looked so small and far away.
I took her to a restaurant with nothing resembling junk food on the menu and forced her to eat vegetables that were not fried or served with melted cheese. To her surprise, she actually enjoyed it, although I thought bribing her with sexual favors helped immensely.
I kept my promise, and we soon found ourselves at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“It’s huge!” she exclaimed as we walked up the massive staircase.
“Just wait until you step inside.”
The place was packed, but it usually was during the summer. Wall-to-wall people filled the place the moment you walked through the heavy wooden doors.
“Stay here, and I’ll go grab us tickets.”
She nodded, her head already moving in every direction, trying to capture the height of the ceilings, the beautiful stone sculptures, and the enormous floral arrangements. I made quick work of purchasing tickets, and thankfully, Millie didn’t stray too far from the spot where I’d left her; otherwise, in this crowd, I might never have found her again.
“Where do you want to go first?” I asked.
She shrugged, her face alight with excitement. “You lead the way. You’re the boss today, remember?”
I wagged my eyebrows. “I’ll remember that.”
She shook her head, a slight blush spreading across her lovely cheeks. Taking her hand, I headed for my favorite section of the museum.
“Oh my gosh!” she said the moment we stepped into the room. “It’s so bright.”
“It’s my favorite in the whole museum.”
We took a moment to appreciate it. I didn’t know how many times since moving to New York I’d come to this particular part of the museum for inspiration, for support.
For solace.
Looking up, I felt like we were in an ancient city with its Roman architecture and beautiful stone statues. But the light from the glass ceiling almost gave the feeling you were stepping into a garden.
“It’s wondrous.”
I tried to sound impressive as we walked. I pointed out my favorites and told her about the history of stonework.
“Do you hope to have your own work in a place like this one day?” she finally asked as we wandered into the modern art gallery.
I swallowed hard, looking at a particular statue completed only a few years earlier, knowing I had only a finite amount of time before I had to give this all up.
“I don’t think I’ll ever reach this level of greatness,” I said.
I’m on borrowed time…
“Well, I’d like to be here when it finally happens, so I can lean over and whisper in your ear,I told you so.”
