The Perfect Day

I wrote this story daydreaming about the future and what a perfect day in my life would look like from morning to late night.

• Short story

								
I wake up on my own around 9:00 with no alarm. The sun is peeking through the windows, illuminating the fluffy, white comforter that is bunched up on the bed. I stretch and roll to my right to find my wife. I’m sure she’s clinging to the side of the bed. She’s always clinging to the side of the bed. It’s as if she is constantly dreaming that she’s hiding, or about to fall. I wish I could protect her, even in her dreams. I snuggle up behind her. Her skin is smooth and soft. I kiss her shoulder gently. She rolls over and in a cute mid stretch voice tells me she loves me. I tell her the same and kiss her good morning. I make my way into the living area/kitchen of our small apartment. What the place lacks in space it definitely makes up for in wow factor. The kitchen is separated from the living room by a long bar. All the counters are granite and all of the cabinets have a marble white finish. The type where even the refrigerator seems to blend in with the rest of the walls. But what we really pay our exorbitant rent for is the view. God, these views. The living room is basically a wall of ceiling to floor windows. We are perched on the twenty-third floor of our building. We are close enough to the East River that you could almost land in it if you jumped from our terrace. Across the river you can see the Manhattan skyline. It’s magical! From One World Trade Center stretching all the way up to midtown, the view is breathtaking. 

Over the course of the next couple hours I will spend time relaxing on the couch. This will include drinking my customary three cups of black morning coffee and catching up on sports highlights from the night before. In the meantime, between the coffee and the tv and the perusing of emails and the checking of bank apps I will get ready for the day. I presumably didn’t shave my head yesterday which means it’s time to do it today. So I lather up the cream and go over it once against the grain, then again with the grain. The cool feeling of the aftershave and the smoothness of my skin when you rub your hand across it feels invigorating. The first stop of the day once we leave will be the gym. So getting dressed is simple as I throw on a t-shirt and some track pants. It’s mid November so the city air will feel brisk and breezy. A jacket will be necessary for the chilly walk through the streets and I’ll likely include a hat to help block the wind. The hat is a faded New York Jets hat with a retro logo. I like it because I feel like it makes me appear more like a “local” and less like the countless tourists and their heads adorned with the typical Yankees hat. My wife joins me in the foyer as we prepare to head out. She is stunning. She couldn’t look more New York. Beauty and grace. Class and elegance. Head to toe black from her workout tank and leggings that frame her perfectly sculpted body, to her matching black sneakers to go along with her thick, wool, black topcoat that she will feel still isn’t quite enough for that aforementioned walk to the gym. Oh how she hates the cold. But she loves me. That’s why she has agreed to give our new address a try. So off we go, down the hall, down the elevator, past Tony the door man with a quick greeting and then swoosh. Out the revolving door into our Brooklyn borough that is part of the greatest place on Earth–New York City.

Our time at the gym is very productive. It helps to be there midday when the early morning and evening time crowds are not there. All the weights are free. All the machines are open. It’s nice. And it feels good. Now that that’s done we’ll head back home for a bit. After taxing our bodies it’s time for some lunch. We make fresh salads in the kitchen and take them to our table to sit and eat lunch together. Together. We do everything together. At least as much as humanly possible. Over lunch we enjoy our view, review our workouts, and go over housekeeping items. Not literally. But things having to do with our calendar. Upcoming items, events and outings that all need to be carefully coordinated and planned. That’s where I shine. I strive to keep our life humming like a well-oiled machine. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. But that’s life. 

It’s a fall Sunday and the Jets have a late afternoon home game. So after lunch we change clothes and bundle up in sweaters and jeans and coats and beanies and run to catch the “2” and start our journey to New Jersey. The dress is smart casual. We want to be prepared for the weather (overcast with temps hovering in the low to mid 40’s) but also not look like we’re going to a football game. No hoodies, no jerseys. After all, MetLife Stadium will not be our last stop for the night.

The game is a blast. We indulge in beer and snacks. We snuggle to stay warm. We high five strangers after touchdowns. We grin as Fireman Ed leads the cheers on the big screen, “J-E-T-S, Jets Jets Jets!” But it’s the Jets, and they lose. Oh well, we say with a shrug. Still a great time was had by all. So it’s off to the next stop. See, the icing on the cake is that it’s not just us in the city. All the boys have moved here as well! Because they love their dad and they miss time with their dad so to reward him for following them to live close to them in their youth, they have decided to move close to him in his retirement years. Cash, who at one time considered forgoing college all together, made a last second audible and went to school after all. He is now a junior architect at a really cool firm in Manhattan. He shares a townhouse on the upper west side with Will. Will is finishing up graduate school at nearby Columbia. He is interning at a high profile agency as he wraps up his studies in sports management. While Cash goes to bed early, gets up with the sun, and spends social time trying to find the wife of his dreams, Will is living it up til the wee hours most nights. His social media is littered with photos of him and some of the most high profile athletes in the city that he has befriended through his internship. But they make it work. Mick ended up being the one who saw no need to go to school. But I’d say he’s doing alright. He has his own apartment in our building. It's a nice studio a few floors down from us. He seems to be a dabbler–a little of this, a little of that. But it all works out for him. He’s making decent ad generated money from his gaming youtube channel. He does some editing for a film company in Manhattan as needed that pays well. He has a consulting business where companies bring him in to train them on the latest trends in the tech industry. He lives the interesting savant lifestyle that we all figured he would. And he’s still a month away from being 
legally old enough to buy a drink!

So, back to our day. After the game we re-navigate our way back to Manhattan for dinner at The Press Club Grill. This has become our favorite guilty pleasure but not just for the unbelievable steak and ambiance. Our new tradition is Sunday night dinners with the boys in the city. We are more than willing to break the bank once a week to entice the boys to break bread with us in the city. Much like the food, the time is truly something to savor. 

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