I screeched into the café parking lot, finding a spot in the furthest corner. It was mine and Laura’s café, and it was time for an emergency “life session.”

I’d told my parents I’d be staying late at work for a meeting, but even so I’d specified an eight p.m. arrival time. Tick tock.

The snowfall from earlier in the day had given way to a clear night sky. As usual, clear night skies meant the temperature had dropped almost ten degrees. I was reminded of this as I jogged to the entrance with the wind whipping hard at my face.

I finally slowed my pace as I took a good look inside.

The place was packed to the brim…how long would it take for a table to open up?

Screw this.

I ordered something extra non-fat for Laura, some triple-caramel action for myself (stressed out, need sugar), and scurried back over to my car.

Before I could open my door, Laura’s blueberry-coloured jeep pulled into the parking lot, so I ran right up to her passenger side.

She reached over and opened the door with surprise, as I handed her the drinks and hopped into the seat.

“It’s way too noisy to talk in there. And also I love how your jeep smells. Okay?”

“Okay! And thank you!” She smiled at her latte and passed me mine.

“So,” she began. “Your e-mail and voicemail were very detailed, and I’ve had some time to think it over.”

I took a long whiff of my caramel latte. “I just hope you can give me the sane perspective. All my ideas equal what I want but sound insane.”

“Let’s review the most important one first,” she said, with a face more serious than anything I’d ever seen.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not going to a big scary city to meet an Internet acquaintance by yourself. There’s NO WAY I’m letting you do that.”

I slumped my shoulders and turned away. I knew this was crazy.

“Unless I come along to watch your back.”

I gasped. “But how?”

“What do you mean? I buy a ticket, hop on a plane, share a room with you…just like that.” She smiled.

“But I can’t just leave you alone while I’m out having fun with James! I mean assuming we have fun and all that.” I suddenly felt sweaty in my big winter coat.

“Are you kidding Romes? I go to New York whenever I can! I’ve spent lots of days exploring on my own…and come on, the amazing Christmas shopping?” She grinned and took a sip of her drink.

Well that was easy. At least for her it was anyway, but what about me?

“I’d need a good excuse…” I mused. “To make it sound legit.”

“Dude, how bad is your memory? You’ve been to New York twice for legitimate work trips. I remember because HELLO, I was there! So why don’t you make one up this time?”

I rubbed my left temple but the stress seemed to grow. “Laura, I’ve never lied that much before. Not even close.”

“You think they’ll figure it out?”

I placed my drink in the cup-holder and sighed. “It’s not even about that really. I actually don’t like lying to them, as hard as that is to believe. Every time I do it the guilt weighs me down a little, but what’s the alternative?”

“The truth, and the risk of them disowning you?”

I laughed. “I’m saving the disownment for when I tell them I’m engaged to a guy who isn’t Indian.”

She smiled.

“So Romes…does this mean you’re taking the plunge?”

I nodded and my smile grew wider. “What choice do I have?”

“And maybe it’s the perfect time in a way,” said Laura. “Your parents are obsessed with engagement party plans, they might not even care if you go.”

One can only hope.

My stress-turned-excitement switched back to stress, when I thought of a certain someone.

“Oh crap,” I said.

“What is it?”

“Arjun! What am I supposed to do about him? And the Christmas gala? I’ll be hanging out with James all day on the Friday, then I’m supposed to head back to Toronto by Saturday night and be a date for Arjun?” I shook my head. “This is not good.”

“Well it depends,” she said. “Do you like Arjun?”

“Ask me on the flight home from New York.” I started laughing. Nervously.

“So in other words, you’re NOT taking Arjun to the gala?” Laura was looking at me sternly now.

I sighed. “That’s right, but how do I toss him without being bitchy?” I suddenly thought of Eleanor, who’d put in quite the effort to orchestrate the set-up.

Laura smiled. “You stay in New York until Sunday. As if I couldn’t use an extra day of shopping?”

It was the perfect solution, though it did little to ease my conscience. “But how should I explain this to Eleanor? She’s going to kill me for ditching her friend. She’s going to kill me for chasing this pipe dream!”

Laura looked straight into my eyes. “Just be honest, how bad could it be? I mean it’s not like you promised to marry him.”

She was right, we hadn’t even been on a date! I put it out of my mind and allowed my excitement to build.

“Laura, I need to hug you right now. You’re the best friend a psycho-girl could ever ask for.”

I squeezed her tight until she begged for release. “Stop! You’re pulling my hair!”

“Sorry! This is why I avoid all affection with friends.”

She laughed. “It’s fine. I’ll book the flight and hotel with my corporate discount, so expect all the details tomorrow. In the mean time, go home and practice telling your parents!”

Right, just the tiny little detail of a big-ass lie…

***

The next day I sat staring at Eleanor with my best pair of innocent eyes.

“Is this the dumbest idea ever?” I asked. I’d explained it all, from the lifetime of regret that would follow if I never went, to the fact that I’d be ditching her dear friend Arjun.

“It’s not a dumb idea,” she said. “It’s actually kind of cute. A little naïve perhaps, but sweet.” She paused. “Too bad you’re screwing over my friend.”

To my surprise, my eyes started glistening with tears. I guess I was feeling guiltier than I’d thought.

“I’m kidding jackass!”

“What?”

“I mean yes I set you guys up, TWICE…but nothing’s really happened with you two. It’s not like I provided his family with a dowry. And besides, how amazing do you think you are? You think he’s desperately in love with you, after only a week or so of texting?”

I finally laughed, as it felt pretty good to have my ego put in check.

Once that was settled, Eleanor and I got to talking about the trip. Up to and including all the subtle little hints to enhance the physical encounter. “Wear a skirt,” she said. “And make sure your sweater is soft in case you cuddle. Oh, and wash your hair with a salon-grade conditioner the night before. For extra shine.”

Okay, I could remember that.

When it was time to deal with Arjun, I did so the only way I could, considering we hadn’t even spoken on the phone. And so a text message blow-off it was: “Bad news, going to NYC unexpectedly next week. So I won’t be here for the Xmas gala :-( Sorry!”

With the ditch-and-switch accomplished I was almost there.

Only one thing left to do…

***

The trip was fully booked and James was in the loop, so now it was time for some dinner conversation with my parents. Or more importantly some “dinner theatre.”

I waited until they entrenched themselves in wedding or engagement conversation. Then I quickly threw it in. “I’m going on a work trip next week.” I paused for their reaction, while my brain tried reviewing all the details (especially the fake ones) in my head.

“Where?” asked my father in the middle of a mouthful of rice.

“Oh just New York. Trade show. For next year’s patio furniture showcase.”

It was so boring it had to be true!

My brother and sister looked at me suspiciously but I wasn’t deterred. No way you assholes, don’t even try to mess this up!

“For how long?” asked my mother. She seemed to lose interest halfway through the question. “Neema! Look how dark your elbows are! And why are they so rough? I know a special cream that will lighten them and make them smoother.”

Elbow lightening cream? Does anyone even know I’m here?

“I leave after work next Thursday,” I said. “And I’ll be back on Sunday afternoon.”

My dad grunted.

Was that really it?

“Wait a minute,” he said.

Oh god, the inquisition. JUST BE COOL.

“Yeah?”

“Do you need me to pick you up at the airport?”

“No, my co-worker will drive me home. But you need to drop me off at the train station when I leave.”

“How early do I have to wake up?”

“Umm…six-thirty?”

He sighed in a tortured poet kind of way.

The conversation quickly shifted to whether or not my sister had found a photographer. And a difference of opinion over how much it should cost.

I cleared the dishes, cleaned the table and went upstairs to my room.

Holy crap. I actually did it.

With everything covered it was finally official. New York City, James Caldwell, here I come!