State of Emergency

Just as Mayor DeBlasio had officially declared New York City in a state of emergency and urged individuals to stay indoors, Jay let out a big groan and tossed the TV remote on the floor. His dog, a Frenchie named Sammy, wandered over to the remote, sniffed it, and promptly walked away. “This blows,” Jay said aloud to no one in particular. He rubbed his eyes, rose from the couch and went to the window. Then he unlocked the window gate which had been installed by the previous (clearly paranoid) tenant, to prevent the threat of an intruder in the nighttime. Jay was on the sixth floor of the pre-war building, and figured if someone were to go through the trouble of getting all the way to the sixth floor just to steal his laptop or his keyboard — the only real items of value — then perhaps they deserved them.

Jay lifted the screen on the window and stuck his head through, taking in a deep breath of cold air. Snow was still coming down pretty heavily, but Jay didn’t move. He just observed the monochrome stillness of the Upper West Side. Ordinarily he enjoyed the general chilled out-ness of his neighborhood, but this level of quiet was too quiet, even for him. Jay sighed, silently cursing himself for not using the circumstance to his advantage to get a new song written. He was on a bit of a deadline to complete the score for his new musical, but at this moment the last thing he wanted to do was write. He wanted to be outside, he wanted to be with people. But he couldn’t. Because of the stupid snow.

The sound of Sammy whining brought Jay back to reality and he closed the window, this time leaving the gate unlocked. “Hungry?” he asked the dog, who simply cocked his head to the side.

Am I depressed? Jay wondered as he opened a bag of milkbones. It had been almost two whole months since his ex-girlfriend Carlee moved out. You should be over this by now, he thought. Lazily he threw a milkbone in Sammy’s direction and resealed the bag, then dragged himself back to the couch and lay down. Of course the one day he didn’t willingly chain himself to his keyboard he was snowed in. “This blows,” he said again.

On the opposite side of Central Park, Keith and Todd, nearly newlyweds, lived in a cozy apartment overlooking the East River. This was their wedding day.

“You were the one who insisted on a winter wedding,” Keith pointed out, in a sing-songy voice that he hoped would get his point across but not anger his fiancé, which didn’t work as Todd retorted, “Now is not the time to play the blame game, Keith!”

Had they planned for a small ceremony at City Hall, the loss of the day might not seem so devastating. However, Todd’s extended family had flown in from Sweden and Keith’s from Zimbabwe, so there was a bit more headache involved.  

Needless to say, they were pissed at the weatherman.

“These types of storms are supposed to be predictable,” Todd said, his energy clearly beginning to wane. He and Keith had spent all morning stressing out, making phone calls, sending emails, and praying for a miracle. “Like, weeks in advance. Not 24 hours in advance.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Keith, relenting, as he pulled Todd into an embrace. “We’re going to get married. It’s just not going to be today.”

“But the venue--!”

“Screw the venue,” Keith said calmly. “I’m sure we can get our deposit back, and if we can’t, I’ll lawyer up on ‘em.”

Todd grinned, raising an eyebrow. “You know how I love it when you lawyer up.”

For a few moments they stood together in silence, enjoying each other’s warmth – their own heat had been spotty at best the last few days, something of which Keith made a mental note to speak with the landlord – until finally Todd asked, “Do you think the East River could freeze over?”

Keith chuckled, then mused to himself that if this were any other day of the year, he and Todd would be in their glory. The day would likely be spent catching up on all the Netflix and Amazon Prime shows their friends had recommended that the couple never had time to watch – or, that they never had time to watch together. Keith worked a lot. He prided himself on being a lawyer “on-call” and available any time his clients needed him, day or night. His extraordinary work ethic had put the tiniest bit of a strain on their relationship, Keith knew, which he assumed – or hoped – would be alleviated once he and Todd were married. 

Todd worked as a professional clown, and while he too had a strong work ethic, his schedule was far more unpredictable. Remembering this, Keith suddenly had an idea. “You took a bunch of classes at UCB before we started dating, right?” he asked Todd, who returned the question with a quizzical look. “Yeah. Why?”

Keith picked up his iPhone from the coffee table. “Because we have to improvise.”

The only person in the city, it seemed, grateful for the winter weather was Lucy, who was currently snowed in with her date from the night before. He was cool, he was ripped, he was a bartender. His swanky TriBeCa apartment was the icing on the proverbial cake. Now all Lucy had to do was remember his name.

The pair woke up around noon, and fully clothed, much to Lucy’s relief – even if they had swapped outfits. She was elated to realize that not only was she not hungover, but there was far too much snow pelting the city for the cool ripped bartender to ask her to leave.

“Morning,” he said, entering the kitchenette as Lucy poured a cup of coffee. “Why am I wearing a crop top?”

Lucy giggled and handed him the hot mug. “Because we’re snowed in!” she chimed. This didn’t answer Cool Ripped Bartender’s question, but he didn’t seem to notice and sipped the coffee. Silently she swooned over his Irish accent, which was thick enough to charm her, but clear enough for her to understand almost every word he said.

With the energy of a hummingbird, Lucy popped around the apartment, keeping an eye out for any sign of the bartender’s name – a magnet, a card, a high school basketball trophy – anything. Occasionally she brushed her hand over a piece of furniture to make it look like she was cleaning. “You don’t have to do all that,” the bartender told her. “I have a housekeeper who comes.”

“I doubt the housekeeper is going to make it here today, unless he or she can fly,” Lucy said.

“Right…How are you not hungover?” asked the bartender. “I’ve never seen someone so small drink so much.”

“Ah, well, I have a fast metabolism.” Again, her answer didn’t quite fit his question and if he did notice this time, he didn’t care. As Lucy peered around the apartment she stumbled upon a photo of the bartender with a group of friends on a soccer field, and for a moment she wondered what had happened to her friends with whom she had gone out last night, but she shrugged it off just as quickly. If they were as lucky as she, Lucy thought, they also ended up going home with some cute Irish guys.

“Do you want me to call you a car?” Lucy heard the bartender say, and suddenly her heart sank. “What?” she asked, pausing her name-search to walk back into the kitchenette.

“I mean, the weather’s pretty bad,” he said. “You don’t want to walk to the train in this, do you?”

Lucy knew that Europeans and Americans notoriously had strikingly different senses of humor, but she was entirely not amused by the bartender’s joke. “Good one,” she said sarcastically, throwing in an eye roll for good measure.

“Good one what?”

Was he for real? “You can’t kick me out in this,” Lucy informed him. “The mayor just declared a state of emergency.”

Well, now it was awkward.

Back on the Upper West Side, Jay sat hunched over at his keyboard, mindlessly playing chords and hoping something would stick. “Am I depressed?” he wondered again, out loud this time. He thought back to Carlee and how good things had been before they turned sour. Theirs was a five-year relationship and just a few weeks before Jay was going to pop the question, she broke up with him. Immediately following the breakup, he threw himself into his work, spending nearly all day, every day at the keyboard or arranging meetings with his producers.

“No, you’re not depressed,” Jay told himself sternly. “You almost laughed yesterday.” He didn’t regularly talk to himself though, and he took this as an indicator that maybe, just maybe, he should see someone – a doctor type of someone.

Sammy trotted over to the piano bench and sat down on Jay’s foot. Jay patted the dog’s head. “Good boy, Sam.”

Just then, Jay’s phone rang and he picked it up without bothering to look at the Caller ID. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jay. How the heck are you?”

“Oh, Todd, hi. I’m okay, uh – how are you guys holding up? Really sucks about the weather—” Before Jay could finish the sentiment, Todd exclaimed, “We know! That’s why we’re improvising. The storm is supposed to clear up by this evening according to the news, so assuming the meteorologist has gotten his compulsive lying problem sorted out, Keith and I are getting married on Sunday.”

“Sunday as in two days from now?” Jay asked, reaching for his calendar book.

“Yes. At Irish Bar in Hell’s Kitchen.” Todd replied. “One PM.”

“Wait. You’re getting married at a sports bar?” Jay asked, thinking he had heard wrong.

“Good Lord, no! We’re getting married at a dive bar,” Todd corrected. “We don’t do sports. We’ll see you there? Sorry for the short notice.”

Jay grinned, which of course Todd couldn’t see through the phone. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”

Two days later, the little Midtown Irish bar was packed with Keith and Todd’s Zimbabwean and Swedish families and various friends from around the city, including Jay. For the first time in weeks, he had fully dressed himself (in his best suit, no less) and combed his hair. Watching Keith and Todd sit on barstools exchanging their vows brought a tear to Jay’s eye. It was bittersweet. It was what he almost had, but he was happy for his friends. How could he not be?

As the champagne flowed and Imagine Dragons music blasted, Keith leaned over the bar to yell to the bartender, “Thanks again, Aidan! I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Aidan!” Lucy exclaimed, from the end of the bar. Both Keith and the bartender turned to look at her. “Yeah?” asked the bartender, just as cool and ripped as ever, but now with a name. He and Lucy had waited out the rest of the snowstorm together and kept an eye on the news. While it wasn’t entirely painful to spend the day together, Lucy had been embarrassed and wanted to get out as soon as she could. When Keith had called Aidan to inquire about using the bar as the last-minute wedding venue, Lucy raised her eyebrows and said, “Huh. Small world…See you there.”

Aidan had texted Lucy to make sure she got home safely that night, but afterwards she didn’t try to reach out. If there was a spark between them while they were sober at the wedding, she thought, maybe it was worth pursuing. And maybe it wasn’t.

“Lucy!” Todd said, grabbing her arm. He pulled her towards the front of the bar by the window, where the smallest bit of sunlight was beginning to pour in. “This is my friend, Jay,” he said. “Jay, Lucy. Mingle!”

With that Jay hopped back to his new husband to dance. Jay and Lucy watched him go and then looked back at each other. “Nice to meet you,” Lucy finally said. “How do you know Todd?”

“We took an improv class together a while ago,” Jay explained. “We just stayed in touch. What about you?”

Lucy hesitated, looked around and then finally said, “We work for the same clown company.” Jay’s eyes went wide. “Wait. You’re a clown?”

Lucy nodded, forced a light laugh and shrugged. “It’s really not as weird as it sounds…”

“Weird? I don’t think that’s weird at all. That must be such a fun job.” Jay smiled. 

“Oh, well I have some stories…”

The two talked and danced together the rest of the afternoon and were shocked to learn that they lived off the same train stop. They exchanged phone numbers and decided that in the next snowstorm, they would have to help each other out. 

Keith pulled Todd aside, as far from the crowd as they could get and whispered, “Everything happens for a reason, right?”

“Right,” Todd nodded. 

Keith grasped Todd’s hand, scanned the room, and then said, “You know, I may be a little biased, but…”

“But what?”

“This is the best wedding I’ve ever been to.”