Page 1 of The New Guy
ONE
Gavin
FEBRUARY
“Go out,”my sister says. “Have fun.” She literally pushes me toward the door to our new apartment. “What’s the point of free babysitting if you don’t take advantage?”
“Can I at least put on my coat first?”
“I suppose.” She grabs it out of the narrow coat closet and thrusts it at me with one tattooed arm. “There. Now go. See a movie. Or find a bar. Meet a guy. Have some adult fun, before you forget how.”
An argument forms on the tip of my tongue, but then my seven-year-old daughter, Jordyn, pipes up from the sofa. “Ooh! Aunt Reggie! ‘Love is an Open Door!’”
“Awesome!” my sister agrees. “Let’s hit it!”
The two of them are in the midst of aFrozensing-along. I enjoy a good Disney movie as much as the next guy. But Frozen has been on heavy rotation in my home for a few years now. Adult fun is a barely recognizable concept at this point.
And half the reason I moved Jordyn to Brooklyn was so she could have more of a relationship with my punk rock sister.
So I do it. I put on my coat, give them a wave, and leave.
* * *
Outside, it’s a crisp, February night, although Brooklyn is nowhere near as cold as New Hampshire, where Jordyn and I lived until a few days ago. Another perk of Brooklyn: I don’t need a car here. My new neighborhood is within easy walking distance to everything we need.
At least that’s what the real estate broker promised when she showed me the rental last month. I made the decision to move here in a single day, after accepting a new job working for the Brooklyn Bruisers hockey team.
In the past, I’d done many impulsive things. I used to be a fun, easy-going guy who lived for excitement. But that was the younger me. I used to have a lot less to lose, and fewer people depending on me.
Now, as I walk past the historic brownstones, I’m a little terrified at what I’ve done. New job. New neighborhood. New school for Jordyn.
It’s a lot. And I think I’m already lost. Literally.
I don’t want to look like a tourist, though, so I don’t pull out my phone and check the map. I just keep going, turning corners and walking down every interesting block I encounter.
After a while, the quirky residential buildings give way to shops. I could do some grocery shopping, even though that isn’t what Reggie meant by “adult fun.”
When I turn onto Atlantic, the street becomes more lively. There are people out and about. It’s 8:30 on a Tuesday night, and the restaurants are doing good business. Even if I’ve forgotten how to party, the rest of the people in my new neighborhood haven’t.
Reggie says I’m the oldest twenty-five-year-old she knows. And maybe she’s right. When my phone vibrates a moment later, I pull it out immediately, just in case my sister has an emergency at home.
Stop looking at your phone,Reggie has texted. Go out and have at least half as much fun as we are right now. There’s a photo of her dressed up as Elsa, with my daughter Jordyn as Kristoff, because she is seven years old and determined not to do a single thing the same way that other seven-year-old girls do.
It’s adorable. And the sight of Reggie and Jordyn together makes my heart happy.
We’re going to be fine. Moving here wasn’t a huge mistake, and we’re going to love New York. I take another deep breath and then respond to the text.Cute. But why are you texting me if you don’t want me to look at my phone?
I was just testing you, she says.Now go find a hunky guy and don’t come home until the wee hours of the morning.
Right. Like that’s going to happen. I shove the phone in my pocket and continue on my way.
There was a time in my life when I was exactly the kind of guy who looked at a night out as an adventure. But now I’m the kind of guy who is thrilled to simply wander alone for an hour while my sister babysits.
Atlantic Avenue has a bunch of restaurants, but I can’t seem to make myself go in and ask for a table for one. I wander a little further and end up on Hicks, which is a quieter street. I stop in front of a sports bar that’s not too busy. I could sit at the bar and order some wings.
As I open the door, I notice there’s a hockey game playing on a TV over the bar. And it feels like a sign. In two days, I’m starting my new job with the Brooklyn NHL franchise. I’ve never worked with hockey players before, and I’m kind of nervous about it.
I’ll take all the positive signs I can get.
