Page 72 of Fourth Wheel
“Yes. Hell yes. Oh my gosh, Dem. I’m so excited! But wait, why New York City?”
“I have to sign some papers from my mom’s lawyer since I have power of attorney for her estate. He offered to fly out to Hampton like he normally does, but I thought maybe you’d like to go on a trip and spend a few days in the city.”
He pulls me back into him, encouraging me to lean back again. But I’m way too restless to sit back and relax now.
New York. New York freakin’ City. The Big Apple. Concrete jungle where dreams are made, or something like that. I’m almost positive my mom’s DVD ofWhen Harry Met Sallyis down in the basement somewhere. I’ll find it and watch it this week. Maybe I’ll have time to rewatch all six seasons ofSex and the City, too.
“Have you been to New York before?” he asks as he strokes the skin behind my ear.
I shiver under his touch—which just encourages him to use his other hand to caress the same spot on the other side.
“Once,” I reply, reaching back to run my fingers along his forearm as he plays with my hair. “My grandparents took Rhett and me on a sight-seeing trip when we were kids. We stayed at the Plaza hotel and ate our body weight in Babybel cheese from the mini fridge.”
He twirls a strand of my hair in his fingers before giving it a little tug. “Wait—are you sure you’re not recalling the plot fromHome Alone 2?”
I swat his hand away and laugh. “No! I swear I’ve been there! We went to Top of the Rock and took a carriage ride through the park. We sawBeauty and the Beaston Broadway. My grandma and I spent a whole day shopping at Macy’s and Bloomingdales. On our last day, we took the ferry out to Ellis Island and did the listening tour. None of that happened in any of theHome Alones.”
“Hmm,” he hums mockingly. “I’ll have to ask Fielding to be sure. Those are his favorite movies—he’ll tell me the truth,” he teases before he continues.
“I can’t promise there’ll be cheese… but I booked us two nights at the Williamsburg Hotel, in the Skyline Suite. It’ll take me less than an hour to get the paperwork done, so we’ll have plenty of time to explore the city and do anything you want to do.”
“It sounds perfect,” I gush before a less-exciting thought enters my mind. “Will Fielding be okay on his own again next weekend?”
Dempsey sighs before responding. “He says he will. He’s been decent all week, actually. And he’s doing Dry July, which he’s done before. He always sees it through when he does a dry month or a detox. I think he likes to prove to himself he’s in control, regardless of whether there’s any truth behind that. He was the one who encouraged us to go… so I’m trying not to overthink it…”
He trails off, and I don’t push, instead focusing on the feeling of his hands in my hair. Over the last few weeks, I’ve started to worry about Fielding more. Maybe it’s because I’m around them both so often or because Dempsey’s caretaker tendencies are contagious, but either way, it’s like my empathy has tripled. I feel for Dempsey, and I feel for Fielding. I care about them both in different but equally deep ways.
Spending so much time with them has unlocked a hard truth that’s impossible to ignore. Fielding is no longer the jovial, cocky fuckboy I once knew. He has this darkness about him now: an underlying sadness that’s always there, paired with a defensive dry humor he wears like armor. Some days, there are peeks of the happy-go-lucky man I used to know. But then other days, Dempsey says he doesn’t move off the couch.
Seeing how Fielding affects Dempsey is hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes. But when we’re together, Dem seems to cling to his concern less tightly. I just do my best to give him space when he needs it and to be there for him when he needs a distraction.
“Two days in the city,” I sigh, already thinking about what types of outfits I’ll need for a weekend in New York.
“Two days. Two nights,” he confirms, moving his phenomenal hands to my shoulders. “No responsibilities. No worries. Just you and me, baby girl.”
“It sounds perfect,” I squeal, rising to my feet as the fireworks finale shoots off in the distance.
“Wait—where are you going?” Dempsey calls after me as I run toward the house. He can grab the blanket and citronella candles—I’m a woman on a mission.
“Dem—you just said we’re going to New York City this weekend. That’s only six days from now. I have to start packing!”
Chapter 35
Dempsey
Wearrivedinthecity early after a quick,mostlyuneventful flight. My little spitfire of a girlfriend tried more than once to tempt me into getting cozy under a blanket in first class. But sitting toward the front of the plane meant the flight attendants were right there, and I wasn’t about to get us banned from the airline for indecent behavior.
We dropped our bags at the hotel, then I took Maddie to Juniors and insisted she have a piece of cheesecake for breakfast. We walked down to Bridge Park and along Pebble Beach. Then she practically dragged me to the carousel when she spotted it across the way. We watched the thing spin three times before she set her sights on what she declared to be the prettiest horse. But once it was our turn, she realized her dream pony didn’t actually move up and down. She made me switch mid-ride, which resulted in a scolding from the ride operator and me ultimately riding the prettiest, albeit stationary, horse on Jane’s Carousel.
Only for her.
We took the subway to Manhattan after that and spent the rest of the afternoon in Central Park. We made it just in time for the final penguin feeding session at the Central Park Zoo, then we grabbed gyros from a food cart and settled in for a picnic near Strawberry Fields.
Strawberry Fields with my sweet, strawberry-scented girl. Being in the city with her is fucking heaven. I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s proved to me time and time again—everything is easy when we’re together.
I took care of the paperwork I needed to sign while we were in Manhattan, then we took a cab back across the bridge to get ready for the night. Now we’re all dressed up, sitting in the back of one of my father’s Escalades, being driven into the city by Glenn, one of my favorite drivers from when we were younger.
“Have you had a good day so far?” I ask, draping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into my side. We barely had enough time to get into our room, washed up, and changed. We’ve been together all day, but my body still craves her, even when we’re close.
