NYC Tragedy
Meg Ronan
“Where ya headed to this evening?” asked the cab driver. “Delmonico’s on Beaver Street, please,” replied Brady. He slid across the worn leather seat and buckled up as the car pulled away from the curb. After nervously running his hands through his dark, wet hair, he wiped the moisture on his khaki pants and rubbed at the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. It was bone chillingly cold outside, and the rain had soaked the shoulders of his wool jacket. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked the time: five o’clock exactly. He was to be at the diner at five forty-five, so he had plenty of time, as long as traffic wasn’t any worse that it usually was. He thought about all the ways the evening could go, but a voice in his head reminded him not to get his hopes up. He had let friends set him up before, but nothing good ever came out of it. He had began to wonder lately if he would ever really hit it off with someone, or if he would only have first dates for the rest of his life. Pushing the negative thoughts out of his head, he looked out the window and tried to focus on the buildings passing outside.
* * * * *
“Is this seat taken?” Molly looked up to see a woman staring down at her. The woman had a full, glowing face, one that only a woman carrying a child can have, and Molly looked down to notice her stomach. “Oh, no, go ahead and sit down,” she replied. Molly slid over as the woman eased her way down into the seat, and looked out of the corner of her eye at the soft curve that was housing a baby. The sight triggered in her a quick flash of jealousy. Molly was almost 28 years old, and was nowhere near being in the right situation to become a mother. She had been in relationships in the past, but nothing that ever lasted longer than a few months. Molly wanted nothing more than to be a mother, but she was afraid that she was running out of time. She quickly looked away and hoped that the soon to be mother did not notice. Quickly checking her watch, she saw that it was five thirteen, giving her plenty of time to finish out her subway ride and walk the few remaining blocks to Delmonico’s where she would be meeting Brady. Her friend had told her a little about him: he worked in real estate, had never been married, loved his dog Omar. He sounded pretty average to Molly, but she didn’t want to totally disregard him. Before she knew it, the subway was coming to a halt, and she got up to exit the car.
* * * * *
“Table for two please,” said Brady. He had gotten to the restaurant five minutes early, and was looking forward to sitting down in a warm restaurant after all the rain and chill outside. The hostess, probably a girl around eighteen years old, picked up two menus and led him to a table in the corner of the restaurant, right by the door to the kitchen. He hung his jacket on the back of his chair and ordered a glass of water. As soon as the waitress walked away, he quickly checked to see that he had buttoned his shirt properly, stuck a breath mint into his mouth, and wiped the sweat from his palms on his thighs. When he looked up, a woman was just entering the restaurant; her long, chestnut hair stopped just above her shoulders, and stopped shortly above her eyes across her forehead. Her torso was swallowed by a large knitted scarf, and her boots left small puddles of moisture where she stood. But the part that Brady was captivated by was her smile- splitting beautifully across her face. He continued to gawk at her until he realized that she was walking straight towards him, and then he put two and two together to conclude that this was Molly. He stood to greet her once she had gotten to the table. “Hello… you must be Molly?” was all he could manage.
She looked up at him, saying, “Yes, I am Molly. It’s nice to meet you… Brady.”
He continued to stare at her for a second before spitting out “Here, why don’t you sit down.”
She took off her jacket and sat down, staring at her hands. Brady was so awed by her that he didn’t know what to say to her. He could only look at her in what was probably close to the gaze serial murders use to size up their victims, or so he thought it must look like. When the waitress came back with his water, he immediately ordered a gin and tonic on the rocks- if he was going to talk to this beautiful girl, he would need a bit of liquid courage.
* * * * *
“It sure is a crazy day for weather, isn’t it?” said the hostess to Molly after she busted into the restaurant. She had just run through the rain on her trek from the subway to the diner and she was now freezing and wet. She shook her head to get some of the drops of rain off, and determined that her hair would look bad no matter what at this point. She walked to the hostess’s little stand, and said she was to be meeting a man here. The young girl pointed to a table in the rear of the restaurant near the kitchen’s door. She began to walk over, smiling to try and make a good first impression. The guy sitting there, Brady, looked up, and set his gaze right on her. Don’t trip, don’t fall, kept repeating in her head, as her new boots didn’t seem to be holding up well under the rainy conditions. As she got closer though, she could see that he was giving her a very strange look. It wasn’t exactly disappointment, but it wasn’t a look of approval either. His face was sort of scrunched, like he was simply observing her. Her smile quickly dropped, and she was thinking over how she must presently look. When she reached the table, Brady said, “Hello… you must be Molly?” like he was hoping she would say, “No, I must have gotten the wrong table!” and walk away. But unfortunately for him, she was Molly, so she responded “Yes, I am Molly. It’s nice to meet you… Brady,” He suggested they sit, and then immediately ordered some alcoholic drink for himself when the waitress came back with his glass of water. She knew she never should have gotten her hopes up. He had only just seen her and already he felt he needed to drink to get through the evening. She would never be good enough for anyone. Instead of sitting through what she thought would be a horrible date, she devised a plan to get her out of there and away from the denial that was sure to come.
* * * * *
“So, what do you do for a living?” said Brady, as he carefully took a sip of his drink while examining Molly’s face. He could not get over how beautiful she was, even with very little makeup as far as he could tell. This was probably the best luck he had ever come across, and he didn’t want to ruin it in any way. Suddenly, he realized though that Molly had just answered the question, and he hadn’t heard a word she had just said. “Uhm… what was that you just said?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t think he had been ignoring her. “I said I work with foster children, making sure they are enjoying their home, or working to find them the right family,” she said. “Oh, wow, that’s very… nice,” he said. Could you sound any more indifferent to what she obviously cares deeply about? he thought. Brady resisted the urge to literally shake his head and heave a big sigh, but instead picked up his drink and downed the rest of it.
* * * * *
“Oh, wow, that’s very… nice,” said Brady. Molly was embarrassed as he threw back the rest of his drink and ordered another one. He obviously didn’t care one bit about what she did, but was just trying to be a good sport while getting drunk. She excused herself to the restroom, and quickly gathered all of her things, hoping he wouldn’t notice that she was taking her jacket and scarf to the bathroom. As she walked away, she could feel the sadness settling over her once again. She didn’t know if she could handle this any more, she couldn’t be anything good for anyone. She would never get the chance that so many other women got- to be a mother- even when that’s all she really wanted. She burst through the double doors of the restaurant, and put her coat and scarf on once she got outside. She walked and walked, not knowing where she was going, and not caring that she was getting soaked to the bone from the rain that was still coming down in fat droplets. She walked for what seemed like only seconds, but soon realized she had gone ten blocks and was at a busy crosswalk. People with umbrellas surrounded her, and taxis blared their horns. She made a beeline for one of the yellow vehicles, getting inside and saying to the driver, “Take me to the Cadman Plaza on Prospect Street.”
* * * * *
“Would you like another drink, sir?” said the waitress to Brady, as he sat crunching on the ice of his last glass of gin. He had been there for at least thirty minutes, and was avoiding the fact that Molly would not be coming back. He should have known when she took all of her things to the bathroom with her, and now he would probably never see her again. “No, no thanks,” he said to the young girl. He handed her a five dollar bill, put a twenty on the table, and got up and left. Once outside, he realized that he had left his jacket back inside on his chair, but didn’t see the point in going back for it. He walked the few blocks to the subway entrance, and quickly descended the stairs, blending in with the others heading down underground. Once he got to the bottom platform, he forced his way to the front of the crowd waiting for the next train. The man next to him turned to him and said, “The trains have been running late all day. The storm has messed with the power a few times.” Brady glanced down the long tunnel, first to the left, and then to the right. He turned back to the platform, and watched a man and woman leaning close together, giggling and smiling, obviously in love. He suddenly felt all of his strength leave his body. He had just watched the most beautiful woman he’d ever met leave him after not even ten minutes. He must be awful, and he didn’t want to live as that guy any longer. Looking down the tunnel again, he saw the light coming now. It got brighter and brighter, until his eyes were watering and he had to look away. Before he could lose his courage, he ran straight forward until there was no longer anything beneath his feet, and he was only floating downward, waiting.
* * * * *
“Thanks, and keep the change,” Molly said as she handed the driver fifty bucks. She had gotten within a few block of the Plaza before traffic had stacked up, and the driver said that was as far as he would go. She realized that this was for the better, as she would have a few minutes to adjust to the cold outside. As she walked, she didn’t think of what she was about to do. Instead she thought of all that other people were doing. There was a woman in a taxi, talking on the phone. A man reading the newspaper in the coffee shop next to her. A young couple, calling for a taxi while huddling under the same umbrella, staying close to fit under the small nylon dome. Before she knew it, she was at the entrance of the bridge. Seeing this, she sprinted as fast as she could, for as long as she could, until she could go no more. She then looked over the edge, looked at the choppy water beneath her as she struggled for breath. But instead of feeling sea sick like she usually did when looking at the constant waves of the ocean, she felt a sudden sense of peace. She hoisted herself up onto the railing, and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, smelling the cold rain on the asphalt of the road, the slight fishy smell rising from the water, and the faint tinge of fabric softener spiraling off of her huge scarf. Without a further thought, she loosened her shoulders, and sent all of her weight forward. Her feet left the bar, and her limp body flipped to the water, waiting.
* * * * *
“Is this seat taken?” Molly looked up to see a woman staring down at her. The woman had a full, glowing face, one that only a woman carrying a child can have, and Molly looked down to notice her stomach. “Oh, no, go ahead and sit down,” she replied. Molly slid over as the woman eased her way down into the seat, and looked out of the corner of her eye at the soft curve that was housing a baby. The sight triggered in her a quick flash of jealousy. Molly was almost 28 years old, and was nowhere near being in the right situation to become a mother. She had been in relationships in the past, but nothing that ever lasted longer than a few months. Molly wanted nothing more than to be a mother, but she was afraid that she was running out of time. She quickly looked away and hoped that the soon to be mother did not notice. Quickly checking her watch, she saw that it was five thirteen, giving her plenty of time to finish out her subway ride and walk the few remaining blocks to Delmonico’s where she would be meeting Brady. Her friend had told her a little about him: he worked in real estate, had never been married, loved his dog Omar. He sounded pretty average to Molly, but she didn’t want to totally disregard him. Before she knew it, the subway was coming to a halt, and she got up to exit the car.
* * * * *
“Table for two please,” said Brady. He had gotten to the restaurant five minutes early, and was looking forward to sitting down in a warm restaurant after all the rain and chill outside. The hostess, probably a girl around eighteen years old, picked up two menus and led him to a table in the corner of the restaurant, right by the door to the kitchen. He hung his jacket on the back of his chair and ordered a glass of water. As soon as the waitress walked away, he quickly checked to see that he had buttoned his shirt properly, stuck a breath mint into his mouth, and wiped the sweat from his palms on his thighs. When he looked up, a woman was just entering the restaurant; her long, chestnut hair stopped just above her shoulders, and stopped shortly above her eyes across her forehead. Her torso was swallowed by a large knitted scarf, and her boots left small puddles of moisture where she stood. But the part that Brady was captivated by was her smile- splitting beautifully across her face. He continued to gawk at her until he realized that she was walking straight towards him, and then he put two and two together to conclude that this was Molly. He stood to greet her once she had gotten to the table. “Hello… you must be Molly?” was all he could manage.
She looked up at him, saying, “Yes, I am Molly. It’s nice to meet you… Brady.”
He continued to stare at her for a second before spitting out “Here, why don’t you sit down.”
She took off her jacket and sat down, staring at her hands. Brady was so awed by her that he didn’t know what to say to her. He could only look at her in what was probably close to the gaze serial murders use to size up their victims, or so he thought it must look like. When the waitress came back with his water, he immediately ordered a gin and tonic on the rocks- if he was going to talk to this beautiful girl, he would need a bit of liquid courage.
* * * * *
“It sure is a crazy day for weather, isn’t it?” said the hostess to Molly after she busted into the restaurant. She had just run through the rain on her trek from the subway to the diner and she was now freezing and wet. She shook her head to get some of the drops of rain off, and determined that her hair would look bad no matter what at this point. She walked to the hostess’s little stand, and said she was to be meeting a man here. The young girl pointed to a table in the rear of the restaurant near the kitchen’s door. She began to walk over, smiling to try and make a good first impression. The guy sitting there, Brady, looked up, and set his gaze right on her. Don’t trip, don’t fall, kept repeating in her head, as her new boots didn’t seem to be holding up well under the rainy conditions. As she got closer though, she could see that he was giving her a very strange look. It wasn’t exactly disappointment, but it wasn’t a look of approval either. His face was sort of scrunched, like he was simply observing her. Her smile quickly dropped, and she was thinking over how she must presently look. When she reached the table, Brady said, “Hello… you must be Molly?” like he was hoping she would say, “No, I must have gotten the wrong table!” and walk away. But unfortunately for him, she was Molly, so she responded “Yes, I am Molly. It’s nice to meet you… Brady,” He suggested they sit, and then immediately ordered some alcoholic drink for himself when the waitress came back with his glass of water. She knew she never should have gotten her hopes up. He had only just seen her and already he felt he needed to drink to get through the evening. She would never be good enough for anyone. Instead of sitting through what she thought would be a horrible date, she devised a plan to get her out of there and away from the denial that was sure to come.
* * * * *
“So, what do you do for a living?” said Brady, as he carefully took a sip of his drink while examining Molly’s face. He could not get over how beautiful she was, even with very little makeup as far as he could tell. This was probably the best luck he had ever come across, and he didn’t want to ruin it in any way. Suddenly, he realized though that Molly had just answered the question, and he hadn’t heard a word she had just said. “Uhm… what was that you just said?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t think he had been ignoring her. “I said I work with foster children, making sure they are enjoying their home, or working to find them the right family,” she said. “Oh, wow, that’s very… nice,” he said. Could you sound any more indifferent to what she obviously cares deeply about? he thought. Brady resisted the urge to literally shake his head and heave a big sigh, but instead picked up his drink and downed the rest of it.
* * * * *
“Oh, wow, that’s very… nice,” said Brady. Molly was embarrassed as he threw back the rest of his drink and ordered another one. He obviously didn’t care one bit about what she did, but was just trying to be a good sport while getting drunk. She excused herself to the restroom, and quickly gathered all of her things, hoping he wouldn’t notice that she was taking her jacket and scarf to the bathroom. As she walked away, she could feel the sadness settling over her once again. She didn’t know if she could handle this any more, she couldn’t be anything good for anyone. She would never get the chance that so many other women got- to be a mother- even when that’s all she really wanted. She burst through the double doors of the restaurant, and put her coat and scarf on once she got outside. She walked and walked, not knowing where she was going, and not caring that she was getting soaked to the bone from the rain that was still coming down in fat droplets. She walked for what seemed like only seconds, but soon realized she had gone ten blocks and was at a busy crosswalk. People with umbrellas surrounded her, and taxis blared their horns. She made a beeline for one of the yellow vehicles, getting inside and saying to the driver, “Take me to the Cadman Plaza on Prospect Street.”
* * * * *
“Would you like another drink, sir?” said the waitress to Brady, as he sat crunching on the ice of his last glass of gin. He had been there for at least thirty minutes, and was avoiding the fact that Molly would not be coming back. He should have known when she took all of her things to the bathroom with her, and now he would probably never see her again. “No, no thanks,” he said to the young girl. He handed her a five dollar bill, put a twenty on the table, and got up and left. Once outside, he realized that he had left his jacket back inside on his chair, but didn’t see the point in going back for it. He walked the few blocks to the subway entrance, and quickly descended the stairs, blending in with the others heading down underground. Once he got to the bottom platform, he forced his way to the front of the crowd waiting for the next train. The man next to him turned to him and said, “The trains have been running late all day. The storm has messed with the power a few times.” Brady glanced down the long tunnel, first to the left, and then to the right. He turned back to the platform, and watched a man and woman leaning close together, giggling and smiling, obviously in love. He suddenly felt all of his strength leave his body. He had just watched the most beautiful woman he’d ever met leave him after not even ten minutes. He must be awful, and he didn’t want to live as that guy any longer. Looking down the tunnel again, he saw the light coming now. It got brighter and brighter, until his eyes were watering and he had to look away. Before he could lose his courage, he ran straight forward until there was no longer anything beneath his feet, and he was only floating downward, waiting.
* * * * *
“Thanks, and keep the change,” Molly said as she handed the driver fifty bucks. She had gotten within a few block of the Plaza before traffic had stacked up, and the driver said that was as far as he would go. She realized that this was for the better, as she would have a few minutes to adjust to the cold outside. As she walked, she didn’t think of what she was about to do. Instead she thought of all that other people were doing. There was a woman in a taxi, talking on the phone. A man reading the newspaper in the coffee shop next to her. A young couple, calling for a taxi while huddling under the same umbrella, staying close to fit under the small nylon dome. Before she knew it, she was at the entrance of the bridge. Seeing this, she sprinted as fast as she could, for as long as she could, until she could go no more. She then looked over the edge, looked at the choppy water beneath her as she struggled for breath. But instead of feeling sea sick like she usually did when looking at the constant waves of the ocean, she felt a sudden sense of peace. She hoisted herself up onto the railing, and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, smelling the cold rain on the asphalt of the road, the slight fishy smell rising from the water, and the faint tinge of fabric softener spiraling off of her huge scarf. Without a further thought, she loosened her shoulders, and sent all of her weight forward. Her feet left the bar, and her limp body flipped to the water, waiting.