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sky .
    A s he sleep s , I wonder , what wo uld happen if I didn’t go home? I cradle Jay in my arms and I ask myself , if I could just walk away from my old life and never look back? Do I have the guts to stay here with this man ? There could be many more nights like this … if only.. .

 
    Chapter 6
    As the week come s to a close we talk less and love more. N e ither one can find a solution. We a re both mature enough to know that the separation i s the test . We decide to just give it time and see wh at the next several months will bring.
    So I leave among tears and kisses not sure I will ever see Jay again. In my apartment I begin to unpack . I break into sobs as I find Jay’s colorful blanket ca refully hidden in my suitcase. When my crying subsides I unfold it to find a neatly printed note.
    Until we are together again, keep warm in my love.
    I hug the blanket as the tears come gushing out. I end up wrapping myself up in it like a cocoon and rocking myself to sleep.
    My old life leaves me in a deep funk. Work i s the only thing that sustains me; I am preoccupied. Jay and I s peak every night and it helps. We both feel the loneliness and emptiness that separation brings. I want to send him a laptop so we can see each other as well as talk but he refuses. He says he has no money to pay for the internet fees.  It’s then I find out he’s paying back a friend for money he bo rrowed for our trip to Santa Fe . The gallery hasn’t yet sent him his commission for the sold paintings. He also says sheepishly he doesn’t really kno w how to use the new computers. August fades into September.
    October brings the promise of coo ler weather to the city. It is a F riday and I have 3 days off because of a holiday weekend . Normally I would have been making plans. T onight I de cide to take a shower and try t o re ach Jay again. I had phoned him twice earl ier and could n’t get through . 
    I guess I didn’t tell you, I live in a renovated brow nstone a few blocks from work. My parents happen to own the building so not only do I pay cheap rent, I also have the garden apartment with the backyard. The only drawback is that the apartment is at street level and street noise is a facto r. To those not acquainted with New York brownstones, they were once built for the w ealthy that employed servants. Hence, my apartment h as the servant’s entrance, the door under the stone stairs.
    The buzzer ri ng s, “Who is it?” I ask , dreading company .
    “Special Delivery for little moaner from Arizona .”
    “OMG, Jay ? Is it you? OMG, c ome in . I don’t believe this .” Looki ng like my mother with wet hair in a terry robe and bunny slippers I open the door with shaking hands . 
    There he stan d s.
    His brown eyes are melting me w ith his backpack and duffle bag in hand.
    “I can’t take this anymore . I had to come.”
    “Oh baby, why didn’t you tell me, I could have met you at the airport? ”
    “I took the bus.”
    “The bus?”
    “Stop talking , ” he says over the traffic noise.
    He drops his bag and begi n s kiss ing me. I n the process I manage to kick the apartment door closed with my foot. It closes with a bang which startles Jay who thinks it ’s a gun shot.  He jumps, I continue my questioning.
    “Jay, why did you take a bus?”
    “It’s cheap.”
    “But it must have taken days .”
    “Oh, it was long. Kate , tonight I need three things: a shower, you, and a bed.”
    “You got it, bab y. Just let me lock thi s door; this is New York . The bus terminal is on 34 th Street , isn’t it? Oh sweetheart , you walked all that way , I bet. I think maybe a shower and bed would be more realistic. ”
    After a shower, Jay flops o n my bed and spots his blanket. “I ’m glad to see my old friend.” He pats the wooly covering.
    I smile. “Your blanket and I have become very close. I’ve washe d it with my tears many nights. It’s never left my bed.”
    “I want ed you to have something of me. This old thing