A friend leaned over the railing behind the court I had just been playing on. I was sucking down water and toweling it from my arms and face. Our courts are nice and toasty in the summer.
“Pizza?” she said. “We’re going to the roof. You joining us?”
A shower and a quick change later and I was out in the balmy evening air gazing up at the stars—okay, star; you can’t see more than a few from the middle of New York City. But I could see the last deep purples and pinks of a fading sunset, and the bright glimmer of ship lights reflected on the Hudson River below us. My friend opened the cardboard lid to the pizza box and the heady aroma of wild mushrooms and truffle oil (we’re not in the West Village for nothing) made me thankful I had plenty of calories to replace. Ah, New York City in the summer. What could be better than après summer squash with your best squash buds?