The building in Bronxville, N.Y., where he lived helped me fall madly in love with him: close to my apartment, ivy thriving on masonry walls and cobblestone stairs. Crispy honeylocust and Norway maple leaves speckling the sidewalk in fall. Across the street, a clothing shop called the Yum Yum Tree, along with mom-and-pop eateries and a gift shop. A Chinese takeout with fast, friendly service & phenomenal fried rice.
There was a laundromat where I did a big wash on weekends, toted in an oblong sack — a veritable body pillow. As I babysat my clothes, I’d grab a slice of pizza from the place down the block. Then by the time the spin cycle was done, I’d walk over to his loft, leaving the fiery industrial-size drier to sling and toss my delicate clothes.