Chapters (49)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Chapter 1 - New York City 2008
- Chapter 2 - New York City 2008
- Chapter 3 - New York City 2008
- Chapter 4 - New York City 2008
- Chapter 5 - New York City 2008
- Chapter 6 - Connecticut 2008
- Chapter 7 - New Haven Connecticut 1936
- Chapter 8 - New Haven 2008
- Chapter 9 - New Haven 1943
- Chapter 10 - New Haven 1943
- Chapter 11 - New Haven 1943
- Chapter 12 - New Haven 2008
- Chapter 13 - New Haven 1943
- Chapter 14 - New Haven 2008
- Chapter 15 - New York 2008
- Chapter 16 - New York 1957
- Chapter 17 - New York 2008
- Chapter 18 - New York 1962
- Chapter 19 - New York 1962
- Chapter 20 - New York City 1962
- Chapter 21 - New York 2008
- Chapter 22 - New York 1962
- Chapter 23 - New York 1962
- Chapter 24 - New York 1962
- Chapter 25 - New York 2008
- Chapter 26 - New York 1962
- Chapter 27 - New York 2008
- Chapter 28 - New York 2008
- Chapter 29 - New York 1974
- Chapter 30 - New York 2008
- Chapter 31 - New York 1974
- Chapter 32 - New York 2008
- Chapter 33 - New York 1974
- Chapter 34 - New York 2008
- Chapter 35 - New York City 1974
- Chapter 36 - New York 2008
- Chapter 37 - New York 2009
- Epilogue
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Reading Group Guide
- ALSO BY LOUISE SHAFFER
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Chapter 5 - New York City 2008
LEANING AGAINST THE wall of the stoop had started to give Carrie a crick in her neck. She eased herself into an upright position and was feeling around in her pockets for her mother's key ring when she heard a familiar voice say, “I thought I'd find you here.” Carrie looked up to see Zoe, sans hairnet and work pajamas, standing on the step below her.
“I went to that Starbucks on Amsterdam to look for you before I came here,” Zoe said as she sat down on the stoop. “I figured when you realized you couldn't face your mother's apartment you'd stall by having a latte.”
“Starbucks lattes are an evil force sent to destroy civilization as we know it,” Carrie said. “Remember when you couldn't walk around the city without tripping over a Mrs. Fields cookie joint? Hundreds of little mom-and-pop bakeries died because those cookies—which were usually raw, by the way—crowded them out. There was a Hungarian guy who had a bakery over on Columbus that had been there for forty years.”
“Wasn't he closed down for selling drugs?”
“My point is, these plagues are sent to us from foreign lands like California and Spokane for the purpose of stripping the city of everything that makes it the city. Mrs. Fields is now an afterthought, and Starbucks will go the way of all fads, but first it will take out all the old Greek coffee shops, and—”
“And you still can't make yourself go into your mother's apartment,” Zoe said. “Want to know how I know this? First, you're rambling; second, whenever you start pontificating about the Americanization of Manhattan, you're scared about something else; and third, you've been sitting on this filthy stoop for more than an hour.”
“I'll have you know, they clean this stoop every morning.”
“This is New York; they could clean it every five minutes and it still wouldn't be clean enough for you to take up permanent residence on it.” Zoe stood up. “Carrie, either go into your mother's apartment with me now, or go home.”
“Do you have the time?” Carrie asked.
“I made the time.”
Carrie handed Zoe the key ring.
