I shrug. “We can usually get by okay with hats or hoodies, so long as all four of us aren’t together.”
We step out into the cool night air. We’re nearly into July, but summer seems to be taking forever to settle in. It’s been mostly rainy and cool, except for the stops farther south.
Lennon gestures at the street. “The fact that there aren’t any photographers here is good. That means they don’t know what hotel we’re at, yet.”
“You don’t worry about just, like, running into them on street?” Paige asks, looking around.
“Usually, they wait at places where your presence is pretty much common knowledge: hotels, venues, recording studios, stuff like that. If one catches you out on the street, at a restaurant or something, they’ve usually been tipped off that you’re going to be there.”
“Who would tip them off?” Daisy asks.
“You’d be surprised,” I say. “Usually, it’s someone on the team who thinks the publicity would be good, for whatever reason. So they tip someone off, and next thing you know, you have a dozen photographers outside of the deli where you tried to get lunch.”
“Not always, of course,” Lennon adds. “Sometimes the paparazzi are really just being stalking dick faces.”
Everyone laughs.
“Can I quote you on that?” Karen asks.
We’re walking aimlessly toward Times Square, the noise and light level steadily increasing.
Paige claps her hands together. “I’m so excited! I’ve never been to a big city before!”
“Paige, you’ve been to tons of big cities in just the last few weeks,” Daisy reminds her.
“Yeah, but none of them were New York.”
Times Square is even more dazzling in person than it was from the van. It’s packed with people milling about, talking pictures, and waiting at street corners in huge, teeming masses. We make our way to the Duffy Square steps, where we stop to take pictures. I wrap my arms around Daisy, and she takes a selfie of the two of us. When she shows me the photo, my heart constricts. We look so happy, like a couple. I suddenly can’t wait until Wednesday. I’ve been making plans for more than a week. I have an entire day of sightseeing all arranged, complete with a private driver. I had to pull some strings to make sure Daisy gets to see New York the way I want her to, and I really hope she has a good time.
“This is insane,” Karen says, stretching her legs out in front of her on the step and tilting her head back. “I can’t see a single star.”
The rest of us join her and peer up into the night sky. Our view is dominated by the buildings and neon light of the square.
“Okay, guys,” Levi whispers. “I’m seeing three different girls staring at you pretty closely. Might be a good time to move on.”
“They’re staring at you, Levi,” I tell him as we stand and make our way back down the steps. “They think you’re really hunky.”
“I am quite hunky, thanks.”
We meander around the city for the next hour. We stop at the Rockefeller Center Plaza, where they ice skate in the winter, and tell Karen and Paige all about the skating rink we used to build in the backyard at home every year. As we pass the CBS studios and the marquee for the Letterman show, Daisy stops to grab my hand.
“What?” I ask.
“I just got the most overwhelming rush of perspective,” she says. “Talking about your backyard, walking around like this, it feels just like the old days, hanging out with Levi and your brother.” She turns to me, and I’m surprised to see her eyes are watering. “But tomorrow night, you’re going to be performing there. On the Letterman Show. It’s insane. You made it, Daltrey. You really did it.”
There have been several moments like this for me over the past year, the big moments where I realize just how far I’ve come and where I am. My dad and my brothers were always there for those times, to grin and nod in acknowledgment. But there was always something missing. Daisy.
So I do the thing that I would have done if she’d been with me all along. I pick her up and spin her around, holding her tight, letting it all hit me all over again.
Chapter Nineteen
Daisy
I love New York City. It surprises me a little, the strength of my reaction to the place. I’ve never really thought of myself as a city person, but after only two days in Manhattan, I know that I’m in love. There’s something about the bustle of the streets, the way everything seems to be right at my fingertips, even the sheer magnitude of the masses of people. I was worried that I’d be uncomfortable around so many strangers, but I find the opposite really. I love the way I can be in the middle of the crowd but still feel alone, the way no one really looks at me, the way I can melt away into oblivion right in the middle of all those people.