Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Boston was everything Ally expected and more. More buildings. More noise. More people. All on the tail of a week filled with a mountain of things to do before she could even get here, the plan being that she would stay for three days and return to Harlow the day after Chip’s presentation, their status as a couple murky thereafter.
Now, having already left her luggage at Chip’s dad’s house, she strolled through the Back Bay district for some quick sightseeing with Chip before dinner. Her brain hurt from the overwhelm of endless lines of upmarket galleries, boutiques, and mega-chain stores she could never hope to see in Harlow.
“Is that Hancock Tower?” She stabbed a finger at a tower covered in reflective glass up ahead, one that dwarfed all other nearby historical stone and red brick buildings.
He squeezed her hand, a seeming gesture of pride that she recognized the building from her research on Boston. “That it is.”
She tugged back on his hand, making him stop so she could marvel at yet another giddy sight, her eyes not used to the dizzying shift of clouds above high rooftops. “How do you ever get used to all this?”
A smile pulled at her lips, and she went with the mood, releasing her hold on him to do a full-circle turn, the sudden honk of a nearby car the only thing to pull her from her spinning.
Chip laughed and grabbed her hand again, probably scared she’d fall onto the busy road or that her current break in the flow of foot-traffic might cause a passerby to trip.
“Trust me.” He pulled her back into a stroll and around a corner. “Give this place enough time, and you’ll be rushing around like the rest of us, too busy trying to get from one place to the other to notice the sights.”
The space around her opened up, and she recognized the red roof of Trinity Church on the edge of Copley Square, where people sat on patches of grass as well as benches.
Where Harlow all but shut down on Sundays, tourists and locals alike jostled around here, her heart soaring because she was just like them, but at the same time, panging because her sensory overload pointed at how sheltered her life had been.
With the Argyle deal still unsettled, every day without word led her to think the answer would be no . Without that deal, unlike Chip, she ran the real risk of not knowing where she would go next or what she would do.
Chip squeezed her hand lightly, and she redirected her attention onto him. “So what do you think? Could you get used to a place like this?”
“Without being lost?” She bumped him in a joking manner. “I think I’ll need more than five minutes here to know for sure, but this is a beautiful city. I’m glad you’re the one to help me take my first steps out of Minnesota. Even if I am only here for three days.”
He turned the green and gold mottle of his eyes to her, leaning in to kiss the bridge of her nose. “Well, my next days ahead don’t seem as scary with you here. So thank you for joining me.”
Her attention caught on the public library, a rectangular 1800s-looking building about a thousand times bigger than any library she’d ever encountered.
“Then, let me provide you with more distraction.” While Boston’s cold North Atlantic breeze brushed her cheeks, she peered up at the mostly clear sky, the wind’s watery smell another stark difference to landlocked Harlow. “Entertain me with what’s next on Chip Overton’s great tour of this city on the hill.”
“Sure thing.” He increased his pace, and she sped up to follow. “Next up, a short walk around the Jay River, and while we’re at it, a detour past my old college stomping grounds. It’s a long walk, so I don’t know if we’ll have time for much more after that.”
His reference to time forced her to recall her impending meeting with his dad. Even as a child, she’d avoided Bill Overton, his terse personality well-known in town, and something she’d witnessed first-hand, like he always had something more to do and somewhere better to be.
“Ooo… fancy.” She offered a somewhat fake giggle at her own joke on Chip’s sightseeing tour, although the idea of getting a closer look at his life in the years she hadn’t known him did appeal.
They took a quiet turn down Commonwealth Avenue with yet more old-timey looking buildings and then down Harvard Bridge where the Jay River lapped against the bridge’s stone pillars.
The bridge alone was a walk and a half, so he hadn’t exaggerated the distance, but the city skyline cut an impressive figure, and all she could do was take it all in.
The world as she knew it grew by the second. Harlow would always be Harlow. A place slow to change, where one could coast through life easy enough. A place she knew about as well as her own reflection. But Boston. Boston was a city on the move. A place that changed and challenged whilst expecting the same from its inhabitants.
Few could merely “coast” in this city. Survival required real effort. Real success. And maybe, despite his problems with his move from Harlow, the challenge and change of this big city gave reason for Chip’s motivated personality.
The bridge came to an end, and Chip guided her right, where an expansive lawn opened out to a light gray building with long stone columns and a giant domed roof.
“Whoa. That’s MIT?” She’d seen pictures but had never really fathomed the sheer scale.
“That’s MIT.” He paused and allowed her time to absorb the sight before adding, “In fact, every building you see for a number of blocks is MIT.”
She turned to him now, but her lips merely parted without producing any sound. How had a boy come all the way from her small town and succeeded not only to fit in this place, but excel above his peers?
One sure thing, this boy —now a man, but not her man—made her braver. He helped her leave Harlow. He helped her to consider possibilities she would have laughed off before. Including being with him to begin with. Even though a voice within her questioned her chances of ever keeping up with someone as brilliant as him.
Chip, extraordinary, compared to her extremely ordinary. Unflappable stability to her chaos. His success practically guaranteed from his first ever breath…
And still, she took his hand and forced the reminder that he’d chosen her. His choice meant something. As did her reasons for being in Boston, a place he’d chosen to invite her to, by the way.
She wanted to have fun here. To see the sights. To live in this moment with her hand in Chip Overton’s, a man she cared so very much about, and who she could at least support through his next nerve-racking days.
Being realistic though, the next days would likely be their last, and as much as she fell short, she could give him this. She could give him moral support until his long-held dreams sped closer to reality.