Loose Change

About three months after we’d started dating, Jeff decided it was time for his kids to meet me.   On a Saturday morning in early June, he drove them into the city where we would meet at my apartment and then go out for pizza and the Central Park Zoo. By the time my doorman buzzed them up, I had changed my clothes twice, vacuumed my apartment three times, and called my sister five times.  (“They are going to love you,” she’d assured me.)  The doorbell rang.  Heart pounding, I opened the door to see Jeff standing there grinning, accompanied by four-year old Rachel, five-year old Caleb, and seven-year old Joshua.  I hoped I didn’t sound as nervous as I felt.

“So, you must be Joshua!” I said to the little girl.

“No!  I’m Rachel!  He is Joshua and that is Caleb!” she explained breathlessly, pointing to her brothers.

“Oh!  I guess I was confused!” I told her, breaking into a smile.  “Come on in! Have you ever been in an apartment in New York City before?”

“No,” chimed all three children, as they brushed past Jeff into my tiny studio apartment.   They immediately began exploring the 500 square feet of New York City that I owned.

“Your bed is in the same room as your couch!  And your computer and your TV!” exclaimed Caleb, who was peering into closets and corners.  

“New York City apartments are small,” I told them, “because there is so much to do that I am hardly ever in my apartment!”

Caleb had climbed onto my unusually neatly made bed and buried his face into my pillows, arms tight to his side, the way you contort yourself to roll down a hill.

“Caleb, what are you doing?” asked Jeff, who had been observing this entire scene with a smile that could break your heart.  

“I’m a sausage!” he exclaimed!  I didn’t know it then, but this nonsensical statement captured the essence of Caleb, who often seemed to operate on a different plane than the rest of us.

“OK, sausage, get off of Lisa’s bed,” Jeff said.  I tried to catch his eye to show him that it was okay if Caleb wanted to be a pork product on my bed.  

“I found a penny!” Rachel yelled, picking up the coin from my under my couch.  “Can I keep it?” she asked.

“No,” said Jeff, at the same time as I said, “Yes. Finders, keepers.”

As soon as I said yes, all three kids were on the floor, scrambling for coins.  Rachel found three more pennies, Caleb found a nickel, and Joshua found a penny, a quarter, and an old pretzel.  I silently noted that I needed to buy a new vacuum cleaner. 

“OK, time to go,” Jeff said to my newest cleaning service. 

“I don’t want to go.  It’s awesome here!” said Josh, who hadn’t spoken too much since they’d gotten here.  “I love Lisa’s apartment.  Can we sleep over?” 

“I’m not sure there is enough room here, but you can come back anytime you want,” I told him.  Do you guys want to try delicious New York City pizza?”  I asked them.

They jumped up and ran to the door, loose change and one stale pretzel in their little hands.  I looked at Jeff and heaved a sigh of relief. He smiled at me, took my hand, and squeezed it gently.