One More Weekend (Sapphics in the City #5)

12. Jenna

12

JENNA

Hand in hand, I trusted Sy to guide me through the winding museum. I had no idea what else she could have had in mind.

But it wasn’t long before she slowed her pace outside of a quiet, dimly lit area. There were a few desks with computer monitors and desk chairs, each with a partition between them and the neighboring screen.

It was still early enough in the day that the whole place was quiet.

Above the entrance was a sign that read: American Family Immigration History Center Record Search .

Just as my eyebrows furrowed, Sy dropped my hand and headed inside toward a check-in desk. “Hi, I’m Sy Robbins, we have a desktop booked.”

The friendly librarian behind the counter smiled at us and nodded as she typed. “Wonderful. And whose family are we researching today?”

“My lovely friend's great-grandmother.”

My head whipped around to look at Sy, who only offered a wink before we got our login information and were sent to our desk.

“Sylvia. I do not know anything about my Nana to do this.”

A sly smile took over Sy’s face as she shrugged. “I guess it’s a good thing I asked your mom to send me some family details that you may not have known.”

I felt my chest tighten, the words making my heart skip a beat. “You called my mom?”

“Yep, I wanted to surprise you so I didn’t ask you. Is that okay?” Sy’s face turned from excitement to concern, worried that she may have accidentally crossed a line despite the fact that my mom adored Sy.

She’d been bugging me for years to explore what we had beyond friendship and barely took no for an answer. The only threat that had called her off was the risk that Sy wouldn’t be around as my friend either if we didn’t work out.

Nodding, I met Sy’s summer forest eyes. “Of course it is. I just didn’t mean for you to take on a whole project.”

Sy pulled out my chair and then sat in hers. “You didn’t, I wanted to. Now, let’s get to work.”

My ass met the desk chair’s faux leather seat as I slid into place. Drifting out the window, my eyes looked at the view just off to the left of our screen. We had a perfect view of the city skyline and the water ebbing and flowing into the harbor.

“Okay, so Eileen told me that your great-grandmother came over in 1919. So just five years before it reduced capacity.” Sy was already clicking into the database, eager to get to work.

It was like taking a time machine back to our university library, watching her eyes scan the screen for any useful information. Sy had always been an information hoarder, taking in every detail and storing it for god knew what.

Leaning forward, I planted my elbows on the Formica tabletop as I watched documents pop up on the screen. Dozens of charters appeared, scanned lines of documents slightly blurred from wear.

We worked together to find an alphabetized list from the correct year, starting in the section with names similar to her maiden name before she became a Chambers. Likely, she would have changed her name from the original Italian to something more “American.”

It wasn’t long before we found a list of women with her first name, Filomena.

Sy was deep in the weeds of every detail, comparing ages to my great-grandmother’s likely birth year. But my eyes kept moving from the screen to her face, watching her dedication to making this special just for me.

Eventually, Sy snapped her fingers together. “Got it.” She clicked on a hyperlinked document, a large charter appearing on the screen. There, every detail about my Nana was kept; the ship she arrived on, the date, the bags she had with her, and her little brother. The officers noted she had arrived without a guardian, that she swore an uncle was waiting for her in the city – an obvious lie.

But she was just old enough to get a job and find a cheap tenement to rent and keep her kid brother safe.

Shooting up from the desk, Sy scribbled down a number on the sheet of paper next to the keyboard and held out her hand again. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?” I asked as I gripped her palm and lifted myself from the old chair.

Before she could answer, Sy took off toward the counter. “Hi again, could we check out document G5231951, please?”

“Of course, just a moment.” The librarian typed away, pulling up the archival database and disappearing into the stacks behind her. Before long, she returned with a manilla folder. She passed it over. “If you want a scanned copy emailed to you, let me know.”

“Oh, we definitely want that.” Sy smirked without even opening the folder.

Guiding me over to a table just a few feet away, Sy flipped the switch on the side. The table illuminated into a light box.

“Wow.” I managed, caught in the whirlwind of the moment.

Sy held out the folder, gesturing for me to take it from her hands.

My throat tightened, suddenly nervous about what horrors could await me inside. But I knew Sy was here, a warmth rushing over my body as I took the folder into my hand.

Opening it, my jaw dropped as the laminated photo inside became clear to me. I set it down on the light box, every detail coming to life. There, in plain black and white, was my great-grandmother and her little brother. They stood on the docks of Ellis Island, two small bags in Filomena’s hands.

Even in a century-old photo, her eyes shone. Despite her long journey and the fear of being alone, being interrogated by adults as a mere child, she was ready for the road ahead.

Shivers went down my spine. I’d heard stories of what she faced here, my mom never wanting to talk in detail about the pain. But it was in my bones, something deep in my being understood.

“She’s so little.” It was the only thing I could get out.

Sy nodded and leaned toward the table. “Just a kid.” Silence passed over us as a few people moved down the hall outside the records area. “You have her cheeks.”

I felt a lump grow in my throat as I moved closer to get a look at her face. “Yeah, I kind of do.”

“I’m going to go get a copy.” Sy rubbed my back before walking back to the desk.

Shaking my head, I could hardly believe it. I’d never seen anything like this. Filomena had been a mystery to the family, her history buried in the secrets she held close to her chest. But now I could send her picture to my mother and grandmother.

And it was thanks to Sy, forcing me out of that apartment and out of my nine-to-five. But that was just her, she was a force of nature, every movement an intention.

After the photo had been sent to my email, I bought Sy lunch in the cafeteria before catching our ferry back to Manhattan. By the time we had loaded up and the boat was moving, the sun was just beginning to lower in the horizon.

I leaned against the railing, warm from the May sun, as I watched the Island and the Statue of Liberty shrinking behind us.

“You okay?” Sy asked as she appeared next to me.

Scoffing, I shrugged. “God only knows. I just…” With a reassuring nod from my best friend, I continued, “She went through so much and I’m here floundering because I lost a job and girlfriend. It feels embarrassing.”

A cool breeze passed over us, raising goosebumps over my exposed arms.

Sy moved closer, her own skin chilled by the wind. “I don’t think she’d see it that way. Besides, you’re her dream. This is the “simpler” life she would have wanted for you,” she used her long fingers to make air quotes.

Looking over at me, Sy sighed. “But I also don’t think it’s that simple. I think life is big and complicated and every decision has outcomes. And you’re at a huge inflection point. It makes sense that you’re unsure.”

“Really?” I narrowed my eyes at her. The last thing I wanted was fake sympathy.

Sy nodded. “Of course. I’m not going to lie to you. It is a big deal. And I also happen to think that you’re going to be completely fine… no… you’re going to be great.”

Hearing it from her lips, I was starting to believe it.

“Can I at least pay you for my half?” It was time for a subject change.

“Nope.” Sy shook her head and crossed her arms.

I raised my eyebrow, knowing Sy’s rule about paying for outings. “So is this a date? Because you invited me out? Are we playing by those rules?”

Swallowing hard and laughing, Sy looked away. “Very funny. I just want to do something nice for you, okay?”

All I wanted was to fight her on it, her budget far tighter than mine. But I also knew how hard she would fight me and I wasn’t sure I’d win it without drawing blood.

So instead, I watched her face as my chest tightened.

She didn’t say it wasn’t a date.