We were there, too, M and I, and so were Nicky and Mike. They'd driven down all the way from Montreal to spend a couple of days on Manhattan with us. It was the first time I ever met Nicky in person. It would also be the last time.
We ate, we drank, we walked. We had a picnic in Central Park and walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. We sat in the neon-lit night and talked and laughed. In a dark little bar Nicky and I had a drink named after us, and in Little Italy we had the Best Cannoli on Planet Earth.
Occasionally things got a little wild, and when it was time for Nicky and Mike to head back home, I actually tried to pack Nicky in my suitcase and take her home with me.
I missed her when I got back home, and I'm still missing her today. It breaks my heart that I will never again meet her or talk to her, because now, Nicky only lives in our hearts and memories. There, on Brooklyn Bridge in a warm and sunny New York City, Nicky's walking along ahead of me and laughing when I want to take just one more picture.
Thank you for your friendship, Nicky.
I will never forget.
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