Autumn in New York

07/18/2024

Prompt: Write a story about falling in love at a museum

—

1970

Andrew absolutely loved New York in the fall, the crisp air and changing leaves, most of all the way the rare morning mist fell soft as a whisper, how it painted the city in that muted but breathtaking shine as the droplets gathered on window panes and beneath glistening taxi wheels as they sped by. There was a welcoming feeling of subdued vibrance in the air all around, and Andrew couldn’t help but think how wonderful it was. But when he stepped outside his apartment on that dreary day in October, he had no idea that it would be perfect. 

Donning his worn Rangers hat, he practically skipped down the stairs of his front stoop, shoes lightly splashing in the shallow puddles that had already gathered on the steps. Tucking his hands in his denim jacket pockets, he turned on his heel and merged into the slow morning foot traffic, eagerly making his way down the quiet sidewalk before cutting across the rows of stalling cars and into Central Park.

Andrew breathed in the smell of damp earth and took in the scene before him as he walked his usual route. The trees, dressed in orange and yellow foliage, hugged either side of the wide concrete path and arched over rows of wooden benches—some vacant, some occupied by sleeping regulars or the usual couple out for a morning stroll. Enjoying his leisurely stroll, Andrew watched the quiet but deliberate bustle of people, in various states of urgency to get to work meetings and undeniable regret for leaving their umbrellas at home. When he saw the large grayish-white building and its towering pillars looming in the mist ahead, Andrew broke into a smile. Exiting the park, he jogged across the street and bounded up the steps to his favorite place. 

Andrew’s loafers squelched and squeaked on the newly waxed tile floor as he entered the building and made his way to the Hall of Fossil Mammals. Once inside, he paused to inspect his gold aviator glasses, turning the frames over in his hands and watching how the prismatic water droplets danced in the bright museum lights. After wiping the lenses gently on the hem of his polo, he held them up to inspect his work. Even with his blurry vision, he could make out the towering exhibits, and the familiar sight of families wandering about the hall, admiring the bones of ancient animals on a lazy Tuesday morning.  

Andrew put his glasses back on, looking around to test his cleaning job. As he did, he noticed an elderly couple sitting on a bench across the open room, slightly distorted and obscured by the glass of a display case. With a wistful smile, the woman laid her head on the man’s shoulder, looking up at the display in front of her. Clasping her hand on his knee, the man rested his cheek against her hair and looked off. Suddenly the old woman shifted her gaze, and Andrew realized she was looking through the glass at him. With a quick smile and a nod, he hurried on through the crowd, hastily perusing all the displays he’d seen countless times on his way to the Cretaceous Dinosaurs hall.

The T. Rex towered over everything else in the vast room, dwarfing the museumgoers and the surrounding displays. As Andrew stared up at the fossilized creature, just as in awe after the upteenth time he saw it, a passerby stopped and tilted their head upward. An audible sound escaped their lips, an exhale halfway between a whisper and a faint exclamation.  

“Wow.”

Andrew turned to see a young woman standing next to him, mouth slightly agape and hugging a spiral sketchbook in her hands. She wore an off-white turtleneck with rust red and black stripes, and corduroy pants the color of coffee. Her mustard-colored sneakers were faded and scuffed, and her pin-straight chestnut hair cascaded down her shoulders, underneath a newsboy hat that matched the color and fabric of her pants. When she finally turned to meet Andrew’s gaze, she smiled as she pushed the oversized bright-orange frames up the bridge of her nose with her index finger, the fluorescent lights reflecting in the lenses. 

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

“Sorry,” she said, “it’s just so much more incredible in person.” She took a small step to the side, creating distance as she ran a nervous hand through her hair.

When Andrew tried to speak, he realized that his mouth had gone dry.

“Hi,” the girl said, beaming and holding out her hand. “I’m Autumn.” 

Andrew reached out and opened his mouth, but no words came. He let out a short nervous laugh. 

“Drew,” he finally croaked before clearing his throat and trying again. “Andrew.”

“Do you come here often?” Autumn asked. “Wow,” she said a moment later, interrupting herself with a snort, “that sounded like a cheesy pick up line. I guess what I meant to say was, have you been here before?”

Andrew stole another glance at the T. Rex, rubbing the back of his neck as he wondered how to capture a whole life’s worth of passion in a few simple words. 

“Oh, yeah,” Andrew replied, “I come here at least once a week.” He tucked his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “What about you?”

“First time,” she said with a nod, “but definitely not the last. I mean this place is unreal.” She lowered her voice as she leaned in. “Between you and me, I should be working on a research paper, but instead I’m here doodling the day away.”

Andrew turned to face her, gesturing to her sketchbook.

“Are you an artist?”

“Business major,” she said with a shrug. “But I dabble.”

“Right on.”

Autumn stole a sideways glance at Andrew.  

“So what brings you here?”

Andrew shot her a mischievous smile. 

“Well, don’t tell my boss,” he stage-whispered, “but I decided to play hooky today. When I’m not working nine-to-five at my accounting job, I’m always here.”

Autumn smiled. 

“I can dig it.”

They both gazed up in silent admiration for a moment before Autumn let out a contented sigh and turned to Andrew. 

“Well, I suppose I’m off to explore the wonders of the prehistoric era. It was nice to meet you, Andrew.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, smiling wide, “you too.”

Autumn walked away, stealing a look over her shoulder as she disappeared into the Hall of Fossil Mammals. Andrew watched her go, staring long after she disappeared. As he practically floated through the museum and out into the rainy afternoon, he berated himself for not getting her phone number, and he wondered if he would ever see her again. 

—

When Andrew was making his way through the Hall of Fossil Mammals a week later, he saw a familiar face. He watched from a distance as Autumn sat in the center of the room on a cushioned bench, legs crossed and hunched over her sketchbook, tongue jutted out in concentration. She had a pencil tucked behind her ear and another between her first finger and thumb, hard at work over a drawing that looked like it required a lot more effort than a mere doodle. When she held out her pencil and squinted at her subject, Andrew caught her eye, and her face lit up as she waved. He smiled and waved back, making his way through the crowd in a way that he hoped was somewhere between casual and eager. 

“Hello again,” she said as he approached. 

“Hi. Back so soon?”

“Yeah,” she said, beaming, “I figured I should take advantage while the creativity is flowing. I haven’t been inspired to draw like this for a long time.”

Andrew walked behind the bench and looked over her shoulder, eyes immediately growing wide at a detailed sketch of a triceratops. 

“Wow, you drew that? That’s amazing.” 

Autumn tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled up at him. 

“Thanks. Do you want to see some other sketches?” She patted the bench in invitation. 

He lowered himself onto the bench next to her, hands in his pockets as he glanced down at her sketchbook. As she flipped through the pages and eagerly prattled on about each drawing, he quietly admired what seemed to him like effortless beauty, the sweet and free spirit that radiated from her when she shared her work. Even in a graphic tee and denim jeans, she looked stunning. Andrew didn’t realize he was staring at her until she interrupted his quiet daydream. 

“What do you think?” she asked as she held up a sketch of the T. Rex, dated a week ago. “I circled back and spent hours sketching this guy after you left. So gigantic and majestic for a pile of old bones. Pretty groovy, huh?”

Andrew stared at the page in awe. 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “Very groovy.”

He looked up, and this time, he meant to meet her gaze.

“Would you maybe want to meet again?” he blurted before he talked himself out of saying it. “Maybe in another part of the museum this time?”

Autumn smiled as she closed her sketchbook and tucked her pencil behind her other ear. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, there’s this new Earth History exhibit that I have yet to see. Maybe there’s some sketch-worthy things in there?”

Autumn nodded her head, a few thoughtful bobs. 

“That sounds pretty cool,” she said finally. “I’m in.”

“Far out.” He smiled a nervous smile before he blurted, “How about tonight?” 

Autumn arched an eyebrow.

“Doesn’t the museum close at 5:30?”

“Well,” Andrew paused and smiled, “what if I told you I have after-hours member access?”

She raised both brows and flashed him a mischievous smile. 

“You mean I have an in with an actual museum member?”

“That’s right,” he said with a wink. 

Autumn tilted her head back and let out an easy laugh.

“Well, in that case, how does six sound? I’ll meet you at the T. Rex.” She nodded her head in the direction of the towering behemoth in the center of the room. 

“Far out,” he said again, smiling down at her. He slowly rose, removing his hands from his pockets and running his palms across the fabric of his jeans. “Well, I’ll see you later then.”

“See you later then,” Autumn called after him as he walked away, smiling until he was out of sight.

—

Andrew hurried down the sidewalk, running a hand through his hair and hoping he wasn’t too late. It was almost half past six, and he was still worrying whether the dress clothes he already second-guessed were too much when he climbed the stairs of the museum. When he reached the top, he scanned the front steps and realized Autumn wasn’t there yet. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, he took a moment to catch his breath and to wipe the sheen of nervous sweat from his brow.

“Wow,” the sound of a familiar voice startled Andrew as Autumn approached. She stopped a few steps below, grinning up at him. “Now I feel really underdressed.”

“Autumn,” he exhaled with a smile of his own. “Hi.”

When Andrew saw that she wore the same clothes as earlier, he realized he overdressed for the impromptu occasion after all. He let out a nervous laugh as he pushed his glasses up his nose and fidgeted with his leather jacket zipper.

“You look great,” he added, shifting slightly in his shiny dress shoes. 

“You too,” she said with a warm smile. “Well, ready to do this thing?” she asked, gesturing to the front doors with a lift of her chin.

Andrew retrieved his member card with a flourish. 

“Right this way,” he said as he signaled for her to go first.

“So what’s this new wing called that you mentioned earlier?” Autumn said as she studied the brochure she picked up at the front desk.

Andrew leaned in, scrunching his brow as he studied the map.

“The Earth History Hall . . . oh, right here.”

Andrew could feel her warmth as he stared through the brochure in her hands. Clearing his throat, he straightened, blushing slightly. Autumn pretended to study the map more intently, tucking a hair behind her ear with a small smile.

“It’s this way,” Andrew said, gesturing in the vague direction of a sign indicating the hall’s grand opening, averting his eyes and keeping respective distance between them as they walked. When they reached the threshold of the new wing, Andrew’s eyes widened in silent wonder as Autumn let out a gasp of surprise.

“Oh,” she said softly, “it’s so beautiful.” 

As she walked into the room and looked around in quiet amazement, Andrew stared after her.

“It really is.”

Andrew reluctantly tore his gaze from her and tilted his head up to the ceiling, where hundreds of little lights twinkled like stars in the sky. The hall was filled with dioramas and plaques as far as the eye could see, and the winding walkway weaved in all directions, glowing faintly in the dark room.  

“You coming?” 

When he looked down again, Autumn was glancing over her shoulder, eyes shining in the lights as she smiled at him. 

Nodding, Andrew joined her, and they fell into a natural stride. They spent hours laughing and talking as they learned about the sky, the Earth, the beginning of life and its inevitable end. As the moments passed between them, so precious and so fleeting, it didn’t matter to Andrew if the world ended tomorrow or in a hundred years; he didn’t care as long as he got to spend every waking moment next to her. 

After a leisurely tour of the entire hall and countless expressions of wonder at all the things they saw and read, Autumn let out a sigh.

“I’m beat,” she said, gesturing to the center of the room. “Wanna sit for a while?”

Andrew followed her to the empty floor where she was already slipping off her worn sneakers. He sat beside her and followed suit, glad to have an excuse to discard his tight dress shoes. As Autumn looked up and rubbed her feet, her mouth fell open. 

“Oh, look!” she exclaimed, pointing up to the ceiling where models of Earth and the surrounding planets were suspended in the air above them, creating a small-scale solar system. She sighed as she laid on the floor and put her hands behind her head. “What a stellar view. C’mon, take a look.” 

Andrew laid back and looked at the ceiling, letting out a quiet shaky breath. His hands were stiff at his sides as he took it all in, trying not to think about how close together they were as they lay there.

“Wow,” was all he could trust himself to say.

A short silence settled between them as they caught their breath on the cool floor. 

“So why the Museum of Natural History?” Autumn asked finally, still looking up.

Andrew stared at the styrofoam planets for a long time before he answered. 

“My grandparents used to bring me here every summer when I was a kid, and I fell in love. Mostly with the mammoths and dinosaurs.” He paused, smiling to himself. “They would let me run around for hours, and then we would get ice cream and walk home through Central Park, and I would talk nonstop all the way home about all my favorite exhibits. I don’t know, it always felt like home here. It just reminds me of simpler times, I guess. And my grandparents. They both passed away.”

Autumn turned to look at him with sad eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. 

Andrew met her gaze with a warm smile.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago, and it’s all good memories. I don’t know why, but it seems like everything good in my life has happened somewhere in this museum.”

Autumn’s smile softened. 

“What about right now?” she asked.  

Andrew smiled back. 

“Especially right now.”

Autumn turned to face the ceiling again. Andrew could see her smiling from the corner of his eye as she sighed and rested her arms at her sides.

“I didn’t know your eyes were hazel,” she said, her smile widening in his blurry peripheral. “Far out.”

Andrew grinned at the floating planets as they settled into mutual silence, watching them sway in the breeze of the air conditioning above their heads.    

A rush of warmth surged through him as Autumn’s fingertips grazed his own like the brush of a feather. He slowly reached out and intertwined each of his fingers with hers, and they stayed there laughing and talking for what felt like hours. When the security guard entered the room to tell them the museum was closing for the night, they both jolted out of their starstruck stares. With giddy laughs and smiles, they reluctantly unlocked their hands and stood. As they descended the front steps of the museum and Andrew prepared to say goodbye, Autumn turned and smiled up at him from the sidewalk. 

“Well, the night’s still young. Wanna go somewhere with me?” 

With a nod, Andrew stepped off the museum steps. Autumn grabbed his arm and steered him to the crosswalk, across the street, and into Central Park. When she took his hand in hers again, Andrew couldn’t help but think how perfectly it seemed to fit as they strolled along on that beautiful fall night, beneath glowing streetlamps, surrounded by the beauty of New York City at night, the perfect harmony between busy sidewalks and quiet park paths. 

Andrew was lost in thought when Autumn pointed out an ice cream cart in the distance. 

“Fancy a late night cone?” she asked as they approached the rolling stand. 

“Always,” he replied as he relinquished his grip on her hand and watched her eagerly step forward.

“Hello,” she said in greeting before looking over her shoulder, “can I get a . . .” She met Andrew’s gaze and gestured for him to order.

“Chocolate for me. How ya doing, Bill?”

“Oh, just fine Andrew, thanks for asking,” the ice cream man said kindly. He addressed Autumn, still grinning at Andrew. “And for the beautiful young lady?” he asked, a knowing twinkle in his eye. 

“Make it two chocolate cones,” Autumn said with a warm smile as she realized that they knew each other.

“You two enjoy,” Bill said with a wink as he handed them their double scoops. “This one’s on me.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Andrew said as they turned to leave. “I owe you one.”  

They found an empty bench and savored their late night treats as they continued their conversation from earlier. 

“So what about you?” Andrew asked, turning to Autumn. “What brings a thriving doodler of dinosaurs to the big city?”

Autumn took a contemplative lick of her ice cream and pursed her lips, studying the contents of the cone intently.

“Well, long story short, my parents wanted me to be a doctor or go into some other notable profession, so I got accepted into a nursing program and I moved to the city for college . . . and a month later I switched to a business degree and a fine art minor. My folks were definitely more than a little disappointed, but I think they were just glad I agreed to stay in school. Either way I think they’re slowly coming around, and if I could do it all again I wouldn’t change a thing. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved to draw, to capture the world around me, the beauty of nature, the people, ya know? And I’ve been wanting to go to the museum forever, and a week ago I finally said ‘why not?’ Meanwhile I’m going to have to beg for an extension on my writing assignment. Again. But who knows? Maybe one day I can actually open my own gallery and I won’t have to write any more boring business papers. That would be pretty far out. I already have a name picked o—”

She shrieked as she realized her ice cream had melted down her hand and arm as she rambled on.

“Whoops,” she mumbled as she tried to lick the chocolate off. Andrew handed her a wad of napkins. 

“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Once I get started talking it’s hard to stop.” She wiped her hand, looking thoughtful. “You’re also really easy to talk to.”

Andrew grinned as he noticed a drip of ice cream on her chin. 

“What?” Autumn asked with a small smile. “Did I miss a spot?”

He leaned forward with a fresh napkin in his hand. 

“Here.” As he gently wiped the ice cream away, he met her wide brown-eyed gaze, inches away. Her lips parted and Andrew leaned in, pressing his mouth to hers. Her mouth was soft and sweet as chocolate ice cream, and the night was perfect. 

She was perfect. 

—

On a crisp winter afternoon, beneath the T. Rex, where they first met two months before, Andrew asked Autumn to marry him. They wed the following fall and had a daughter, and, as their family grew and changed like the leaves, so did the museum, the place where it all began, but the memories would always remain. 

— 

Thirty Years Later

“Happy anniversary, dear,” Andrew said as he led Autumn into the dinosaur hall. He stopped at their favorite place and squeezed her hand. “This is for you.”

Autumn looked at the foot of the fossil display, at the new plaque placed there. She let out a small gasp of surprise, laughing warmly as she read the words aloud:

To Autumn, Happy Anniversary my love.

“Oh, Andrew,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” 

She pulled him into a soft embrace, and Andrew kissed her temple, hugging her tight. When he opened his eyes, he saw an old man hunched over a cane on a distant bench. He was alone, and a bouquet of flowers were placed on the bench next to him. As he stared through the display before him, Andrew’s eyes met his through the glass. The old man’s eyes were full of sorrow, longing and emptiness all at once, and as Andrew broke away from Autumn’s embrace, he tried to force the image of him out of his mind as he turned to his wife and smiled. 

“How about a stroll through the Hall of Planet Earth before we go?” he asked.

She looped her arm through his. 

“Sounds lovely.” 

As they exited the dinosaur hall, Andrew stole a glance behind him, but the old man was gone. 

—

Twenty Two Years Later

Cane in hand, Andrew slowly shuffled through the doors of the museum. Hunched and weathered by long and lonely years, he made his way through the newly opened exhibits to his favorite place. He stood at the threshold of the Hall of Saurischian Dinosaurs and looked around, taking in the families, children, couples, and lone visitors alike as they milled about, going through their ordinary days without a care in the world. 

Andrew closed his eyes and let the familiar buzz of excitement wash over him as the steady hum of people coming and going filled his ears. As the heavy weight of memories settled into his chest, he fought back tears and forced down the lump in his throat. When he opened his eyes, the T. Rex captured his attention, towering over the tiny people in the vast hall. Andrew slowly made his way to the center of the room, his milky eyes settling on the plaque at the display’s base. He stood there for a while, shaky hands resting on his cane as onlookers steadily stopped and moved on. When he finally had a moment alone, he read the words before him, eyes shining. 

“Hello, dear,” he said quietly. He slowly looked around him and back to the plaque. “Not much has changed, has it? Except that you’re not here.” He sniffled and stared down at the words, illegible through his moistening eyes. “Well, anyway . . . I miss ya, Autumn. Happy Anniversary.”

With a shaky swipe at the tears on his face, Andrew made his way to the Hall of Planet Earth and found an empty seat near the suspended solar system, all fiberblass and polished resin on a motorized orbit through artificial starlight. He watched people come and go for a long time, letting the lonely hours pass, as the dioramas rotated on their predetermined path and the steady hum of the central air settled over the dark and vacant room. Just when he was going to stand, he heard the echo of laughter coming from the entryway, and he saw a young couple stroll into the room, hands intertwined as they stared into each other’s eyes. 

The boy and girl laid underneath the planets and held hands as they talked and laughed with starry-eyed oblivion, and a familiar swell of emotion bloomed in Andrew’s chest, both wanted and unwelcome. As he watched them fall in love beneath the twinkling museum lights and the dancing planets, he remembered a beautiful girl that he already knew he loved, and a perfect night in his favorite place. 

With misty eyes and shaking hands, Andrew slowly rose, securing his cane beneath him. He glanced back for a moment before he bade farewell to the memories and walked out of the museum. The afternoon mist danced in the air like a blurry memory as he walked down the busy sidewalk, the rain seemingly colder as the bright foliage faded to gray and the sounds of the city muted around him. When he came upon the gallery, he stopped and peered into the floor-to-ceiling display window, where a small printed sign was taped below the gallery’s name. 

AUTUMN IN NEW YORK: ART BY AUTUMN REED   

FINAL EXHIBITION AND ART SALE OCTOBER 20TH

A familiar face appeared in the window, a woman with gray hair that used to be the same chestnut hue as her mother’s pin-straight strands. Her hazel eyes met Andrew’s, her gaze solemn and her smile wistful. She made her way to the door and stepped outside, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around her fathers shoulders. Andrew could feel her chest expand before she let out a loud exhale.

“Everything’s ready for tonight,” she said, barely above a whisper. She dropped her arms and turned to the display window, and Andrew followed suit. 

“What do you think?” she asked.

Andrew stared through the glass for a long time before a familiar sketch caught his eye, framed and hung on the bright white wall in the back of the small gallery space. Andrew gestured to it with a small nod. 

“That was your mother’s first museum drawing,” he said with a smile as tears filled his eyes. “When I asked if she was an artist, she said she dabbled, but I already knew that she was talented. She was beautiful and she was smart, but most of all she was very modest.” He laughed quietly to himself and gestured to the entire gallery. “And look at her now.”

His daughter nodded, stealing a glance at her father as her own eyes glistened.

“I wish she was here,” she whispered. 

“Oh, Summer, so do I,” Andrew said, voice cracking. “Every moment of every day.”

There was another moment of silence before Summer silently retreated inside. Andrew watched as she made her way to the back wall and gently lifted the framed drawing off its wall hook. She carried it to a white marble block table, a horizontal monolith where various wrapping and packing materials were neatly organized for the evening’s exhibition. She wrapped the frame with care and tucked it underneath her arm before she came back outside. She held the package out to her father with both hands. 

“You should have it,” Summer said as Andrew stared down at the small rectangle, wrapped in brown paper. “It’s what she would have wanted.”

As Andrew’s tears fell and dampened the packaging, so did the rain of the afternoon as it began to come down from the sky in a more rapid rhythm. A low rumble of thunder filled the air as he hugged the drawing to his chest. With a silent nod, he pulled his daughter in with his free arm, blinking hard. He kissed her cheek and disappeared into the downpour, with urgency and undeniable regret for leaving his umbrella at home.   

—

Present Day

It was another lovely autumn day in New York, and the air was filled with a familiar air of excitement as the people came and went. A young couple walked through the doors of the museum, the young woman dragging the young man along with one hand and clutching a museum brochure in the other.

“C’mon,” she said excitedly as she pulled him along. “I want to see everything and we only have a couple hours.”

The young man smiled, happy to let her lead as she pulled him through the crowd to the Hall of Saurischian Dinosaurs. When they crossed the threshold, their mouths fell open in amazement. Without a word, the young woman made a beeline for the center of the room, the young man close behind.  

They stood at the base of the T. Rex for a long time, staring in sheer wonder at the towering beast. When the shock settled into a steady hum of amazement, the young woman glanced down at the little golden plaque at the base of the display in front of her. Leaning forward, she moved her lips as she silently read the words, etched in a beautiful cursive font. 

“Aww, babe, look,” she said, smiling at him. He put his arm around her shoulders as she read the words aloud. 

“To Autumn, Happy Anniversary my love. So sweet.” After another silent moment of admiration, she grabbed his hand. 

“Are you ready for the Hall of Planet Earth? After that we can see whatever you want.”

“Lead the way,” the young man said with a grin. 

At the entrance of the hall, they stopped in front of another plaque on the wall of the archway, larger than the one on the T. Rex display. 

“This was what I wanted to show you,” the young woman said eagerly as she pulled the young man toward the plaque, her engagement ring twinkling in the faint glow of the artificial stars and planets above. 

“To Autumn and Andrew, who met and fell in love at this museum.

“This whole wing is dedicated to them. They were together for fifty years.”

“Wow,” the young man said in surprise, “that’s a long time.” 

The young woman turned to look up at him with a warm smile. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he bent down to press his mouth to hers, against the sweet smile that was already creeping to her lips. 

“I hope we make it a hundred years,” she murmured when they pulled apart.

“A hundred and fifty,” he whispered back.   

Hands intertwined, they walked into the Hall of Planet Earth together.

THE END