I take her hand, but we don’t talk much for the next half hour as I guide her through Gowanus, to the R train, and finally out at Court Street. It’s almost like we don’t need to, that despite having a million zingers at the ready for each other, we’re just as content in companionable silence. Which I hope is the miracle it seems and not just an after-effect of Mary’s potent weed.

When we’re close to the end of Montague Street, I tell her to close her eyes and lead her the last couple of steps. “Oh, wow,” she says when I tell her to open them. “Wow.” It’s worth the repeat. “What is this place?”

“It’s called the Promenade,” I explain. It’s a wide pedestrian-only pathway built right next to the water, with the whole of Manhattan’s famed skyline spread out before us. The Brooklyn Bridge looks close enough to touch. The Empire State Building, puncturing the slight mist of the overcast day, appears somehow even more magical, like a spire that could take you up into the clouds.

“It’s incredible,” Zoey says. “Is that the Statue of Liberty?”

“Sure is,” I say.

She shakes her head in awe. “You know, in all the time I’ve been here, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her.”

I’m not terribly surprised, given that I don’t think Zoey has ventured very far from the ten-block radius surrounding our apartments. But I don’t mention that. Instead I ask, “Shall we?”

She nods and we start the stroll. Charming old brick buildings with vibrant burgundy gardens frame us on one side, while the blues and grays of Manhattan’s established skyscrapers—and the oranges and yellows of those yet to come—frame the other. It’s a strange clash of history and progress but somehow, here, it just works.

“You should see it at night,” I say. “Or even better, sunset. All lit up. Everything reflecting in the water. It’s like stepping into a postcard except, when you’re here for real, you realize no photo can truly capture it at all.”

Zoey nods. “I get that. Believe it or not, LA has places like this too. The Hollywood sign, for example. As cheesy as it sounds, I don’t think I ever failed to stop and stare at it, even if just for a few seconds, whenever it came into view. I’d remind myself that this thing I had seen a million times in pictures, and TV, and movies, here it was in front of me, in the flesh. Or steel, as it were.” She takes a deep breath. “Can I tell you something?”

Curious, I nod. “Go for it.”