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throwing my things in my backpack。 “Is it still OK if I borrow your
car？ The sooner I get Home； the sooner I can get back。 Not that it
really matters； because I’mmoving to New York 。 It’s official！”
Since Alex went home to Westchester twice a week to babysit his
little brother when his mom had to work late； his mom had given him
her old car to keep in the city。 But he wouldn’t be needing it until
Tuesday； and I’d be back before then。 I had been planning to go Home
that weekend anyway； and now I’d have some good news to bring with
me。
“Sure。 No problem。 It’s in a spot about a half…block down on Grand
Street。 The keys are on the kitchen table。 Call me when you get
there； OK？”
“Will do。 Sure you don’t want to e？ There’ll be great food—you
know my mom orders in only the best。”
“Sounds tempting。 You know I would； but I organized some of the
younger teachers to get together tomorrow night for happy hour。
Thought it might help us all work as a team。 I really can’t miss
it。”
“Goddamn do…gooder。 Always doing good； spreading good cheer wherever
you go。 I’d hate you if I didn’t love you so much。” I leaned over
and kissed him good…bye。
I found his little green Jetta on the first try and only spent
twenty minutes trying to find the parkway that would take me to 95
North； which was wide open。 It was a freezing day for November； the
temperature was in the midthirties； and there were slick frozen
patches on the back roads。 But the sun was out； the kind of winter
glare that causes unaccustomed eyes to tear and squint； and the air
felt clean and cold in my lungs。 I rode the entire way with the
window rolled down； listening to the “Almost Famous” soundtrack on
repeat。 I worked my damp hair into a ponytail with one hand to keep
it from flying in my eyes； and blew on my hands to keep them warm；
or at least warm enough to grip the steering wheel。 Only six months
out of college； and my life was on the verge of bursting forward。
Miranda Priestly； a stranger until yesterday but a powerful woman
indeed； had handpicked me to join her magazine。 Now I had a concrete
reason to leave Connecticut and move—all on my own； as a real adult
would—to Manhattan and make it my Home。 As I pulled into the
driveway of my childhood house； sheer exhilaration took over。 My
cheeks looked red and windburned in the rearview mirror； and my hair
was flying wildly about。 There was no makeup on my face； and my
jeans were dirty around the bottom from trudging through the city
slush。 But at that moment； I felt beautiful。 Natural and cold and
clean and crisp； I threw open the front door and called out for my
mother。 It was the last time in my life I remember feeling so light。
“A week？ Honey； I just don’t see how you’re going to start work in a
week；” my mother said； stirring her tea with a spoon。 We were
sitting at the kitchen table in our usual spots； my mother drinking
her usual decaf tea with Sweet’N Low； me with my usual mug of
English Breakfast and sugar。 Even though I hadn’t lived at Home in
four years； all it took was an oversize mug of microwaved tea and a
couple Reese’s peanut butter cups to make me feel like I’d never
left。
“Well； I don’t have a choice； and； honestly； I’m lucky to have that。
You should’ve heard how hard…core this woman was on the phone；” I
said。 She looked at me； expressionless。 “But； whatever； I can’t
worry about it。 I did just get a job at a really famous magazine
with one of the most powerful women in the industry。 A job a million
girls would die for。”
We smiled at each other； but her smile was tinged with sadness。 “I’m
so happy for you；” she said。 “Such a beautiful； grown…up daughter I
have。 Honey； I just know this is going to be the start of a
wonderful； wonderful time in your life。 Ah； I remember graduating
from college and moving to New York。 All alone in that big； crazy
city。 Scary but so； so exciting。 I want you to love every minute of
it； all the plays and films and people and shopping and books。 It’s
going to be the best time of your life—I just know it。” She rested
her hand on mine； something she didn’t usually do。 “I’m so proud of
you。”
“Thanks； Mom。 Does that mean you’re proud enough of me to buy me an
apartment； furniture； and a whole new wardrobe？”
“Yeah； right；” she said and smacked the top of my head with a
magazine on her way to the microwave to heat two more cups。 She
hadn’t said no； but she wasn’t exactly grabbing her checkbook；
either。
I spent the rest of the evening e…mailing everyone I knew； asking if
anyone needed a roommate or knew of someone who did。 I posted some
messages online and called people I hadn’t spoken to in months。 No
luck。 I decided my only choice—without permanently moving onto
Lily’s couch and inevitably wrecking our friendship； or crashing at
Alex’s； which neither of us was ready for—was to sublet a room
short…term； until I could get my bearings in the city。 It would be
best to find my own room somewhere； and preferably one that was
already furnished so I wouldn’t have to deal with that； too。
The phone rang at a little after midnight； and I lunged for it；
nearly falling off my twin…size childhood bed in the process。 A
framed； signed picture of Chris Evert； my childhood hero； smiled
down from my wall； just below a bulletin board that still had
magazine cutouts of Kirk Cameron plastered across it。 I smiled into
the phone。
“Hey； champ； it’s Alex；” he said with that tone of voice that meant
something had happened。 It was impossible to tell if it was
something good or bad。 “I just got an e…mail that a girl； Claire
McMillan； is looking for a roommate。 Princeton girl。 I’ve met her
before； I think。 dating Andrew； totally normal。 You interested？”
“Sure； why not？ Do you have her number？”
“No； I only have her e…mail； but I’ll forward you her message and
you can get in touch with her。 I think she’ll be good。”
I e…mailed Claire while I finished talking to Alex and then finally
got some sleep in my own bed。 Maybe； just maybe； this would work
out。
Claire McMillan： not so much。 Her apartment was dark and depressing
and in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen； and there was a junkie propped
up on the doorstep when I arrived。 The others weren’t much better。
There was a couple looking to rent out an extra room in their
apartment who made indirect references to putting up with their
constant and loud lovemaking； an artist in her early thirties with
four cats and a fervent desire for more； a bedroom at the end of a
long； dark hallway； with no windows or closets； a twenty…year…old
gay guy in his self…proclaimed “slutty stage。” Each and every
miserable room I’d visited was going for well over 1；000 and my
salary was cashing in at a whopping 32；500。 And although math had
never been my strong suit； it didn’t take a genius to figure out
that rent would eat up more than 12；000 of it and taxes would take
the rest。 Oh； and my parents were confiscating the emergencies…only
credit card； now that I was an “adult。” Sweet。
Lily pulled through after three straight days of letdowns。 Since she
had a vested interest in getting me off her couch for good； she
e…mailed everyone she knew。 A classmate from her Ph。D。 program at
Columbia had a friend who had a boss who knew two girls who were
looking for a roommate。 I called immediately and spoke to a very
nice girl named Shanti； who told me she and her friend Kendra were
looking for someone to move into their Upper East Side apartment； in
a room that was miniscule but had a window； a closet； and even an
exposed brick wall。 For 800 a month。 I asked if the apartment had a
bathroom and kitchen。 It did （no dishwasher or bathtub or elevator；
of course； but one can hardly expect living in luxury their first
time out）。 Bingo。 Shanti and Kendra ended up being two very sweet
and quiet Indian girls who’d just graduated from Duke； worked
hellishly long hours at investment banks； and seemed to me； that
first day and every day thereafter； utterly indistinguishable from
each other。 I had found a Home。
4
I’d slept in my new room for three nights already and still felt
like a stranger living in a very strange place。 The room was minute。
Perhaps slightly larger than the storage shed in the backyard of my
house in Avon； but not really。 And unlike most empty spaces that
actually looked bigger with furniture； my room had shrunk to half
its size。 I had naively eyed the tiny square and decided that it had
to be close t