The butterflies flitting around her empty stomach took up kickboxing. The last time she visited New York, she was fifteen years old. Days before Christmas, her tenth-grade English class came to a matinee of a flashy Broadway musical. After the show, she trooped through the dizzying maze of skyscrapers in a conspicuous herd, finally arriving at Rockefeller Center where ice skaters stumbled and twirled in a scene straight from the movies. Slices of greasy pizza at a fast-food joint near Times Square topped off the experience. Though city grit lingered on her hands until she scrubbed them late that night at home, she couldn’t scrub the dazzle from her heart.

Thirteen years later, she pulled into Port Authority not a starry-eyed tourist, but a prospective New Yorker.

Okay, Manhattan, show me what you’ve got.

With a breath of exhaust-filled air, she exited the bus into the cavernous depths of the terminal. Hoisting her bags, she peeked through glass doors, and her heart soared.

Inside the station, Jenn charged her, flinging her arms around Tessa’s neck.

Laughing, she bent and returned the embrace. Jenn’s hair slid coolly over her cheek.

“You look gorgeous!” Jenn gave her the once-over. “You’re all skinny and freckly, and your hair is amazing—as always. What’s your secret? Are you in love?”

“Guess it’s the country air.” She had plenty of time for girl talk later. “You look like you walked out of a magazine.”

“This little old thing?” Jenn struck a pose in her smart suit, satiny blouse, and trendy heels. “Usually, I’m schlepping around the office in leggings and a tee, but I had a meeting today with the editorial staff. You like?” She made a duck-lipped model face, then burst out laughing and snorted. “Let me help with your bags.”

Tessa carried only her backpack, one small duffel, and a tote laden with whoopie pies and Jenn’s beloved black jellybeans from the Farmers’ Market. She also carefully wrapped a bouquet of flowers from her garden and laid them on top, hoping they wouldn’t wilt on the trip.

Jenn slung the treats over one shoulder and danced on the escalator up to the taxi stand singing, “Presents! Presents!”

She sounded exactly like Rebecca when the girl sang “Pop-top! Pop-top!” on a farm that felt ten thousand miles away. In an alternate universe, she could almost believe her goofy friend was the Amish girl’s longed-for cousin. They were definitely kindred spirits.