A borrowed umbrella
We met in a downpour outside a bookshop in the West Village in 2019. James had an umbrella; Eleanor had nowhere to be. We walked forty blocks and forgot to exchange numbers, then found each other again at the same shop a week later.
The question
James asked on a cold January morning on the Hudson, holding the same umbrella, which has since been repaired twice.
Why Hollowbrook
Eleanor’s grandparents were married on this lawn. We wanted the people we love in the place where her family’s story started.