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            Eli arrived two hours late.  That wouldn’t have been such a big deal, except that he was two hours late picking me up at LaGuardia airport on my first day in New York City.  I had been terrified; no way to reach him – he had only recently changed apartments, and I hadn’t gotten his new number in time before my flight. 

            Things were often like that between us.  I remember – once, when he had already been living in NYC for a few months, and I was still crashing at my mom’s house in Cleveland – he called in the morning, and asked what was up.  I gave a typically dismissive “Nothin’ much,” but he kept pressing in his gentle way for specifics of what I was up to that afternoon.  Finally, I asked him where he was.  He was at the bus station; the bus station in downtown Cleveland.  Lucky thing I was at home.  I picked him up, and we went out for pancakes at a small diner at Shaker Square.  It was our waitress’ first day on the job, and she apologized in advance for any foul-ups.  Eli wrapped her tip in a napkin with “For excellent service” written on it.  The tip was $8.  Our combined bill was about $7.  I hadn’t even known that he was coming to town that morning.

            But at the airport he had been expected, and I had been roaming LaGuardia and doing my best to keep total panic at bay when I saw him walking briskly and yet sheepishly towards me.  I shot my arms to hug him (I wanted to make sure that he was real, and not just some kind of New York mirage: A friendly face.)  But he must have thought I was going to deck him or something, because he flinched and cringed away for a minute.