And Just Like That…

The woman threw open her windows to let the city in.

She could hear the horses coming and going

with their carriages,

each one bringing an exciting possibility.

Let me get that for you, sir.

Have a nice day.

The unexpected cool breeze on this hot afternoon

reminded her that each day

need not be an echo of the one before.

There are endless adventures to be taken,

if she simply dared to decide to take them.

Putting one foot in front of the other,

she stepped off the expected path

and vowed to go wherever a day might take her.

You are always walking in heels!

Um, guilty.

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click.

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click.

Have you no rugs? My God!

Well, I just-- I haven't been able to find the right ones yet.

A work in progress.

Hello. I'm Carrie. And you are?

Wow, just furious.

Duncan Reeves. I'm sorry for my tone.

It's just that your predecessor never made any noise.

- She was bedridden. - Yeah. It was lovely.

Perhaps, for you. Not for her.

No, what I meant was--

- She was quiet as a mouse. - A bedridden mouse.

Am I, um, correct in assuming that you're the new owner?

Yes, you are correct, I am.

I am. I moved in three months ago.

- Oh, my God. - But, um, in my defense,

you know, I'm-- I'm really-- I'm just walking up here,

you know, no-- no, uh-- no parties,

no rollerblading, no bowling.

Are you trying to be amusing?

I'm not trying to be amusing. I think I am amusing.

Oh, I see.

Well, this is a very inauspicious beginning.

- Would you like to come in? - No, I would not.

Oh.

Look, understand, I'm not at my best.

- One can only hope. - It's been days,

and I'm desperately sleep-deprived from the--

- "Me" of it all? - I work all night long,

so I must... sleep during the day.

It's crucial to my success.

Could you, at least, remove your high heels?

Okay.

Now, you've gone too far.

- I'll have the grain bowl, thanks. - Right.

- The burrata. - Yes.

- Thank you. - I'll have the goat cheese salad.

Ugh, should've got that.

My downstairs neighbor hates me.

My Airbnb neighbor blasts heavy metal all the time.

What does that have to do with me?

It's hardly like I'm headbanging up there.

No, I'm just agreeing. Neighbors are the worst.

- Continue. - Where did this guy even come from?

London. I told you about him during the sale.

He comes to New York six months out of the year.

Seema, I can't live with an insane man

under me for s-- half a year?

Insane? Insane how?

He asked me... to take off my heels.

Yeah, he gets it.

- To play devil's advocate... - Mm-hmm?

...taking your shoes off at home is more sanitary.

To play Devil Wears Prada advocate, I have rights.

A woman's right to shoes.

Well, clearly, you can't live like that.

But getting someone

evicted in New York takes years.

We might just have to kill him.

Okay.

And to be clear, this is not me, this is him.

I have never ever had a problem with a neighbor. Never.

Not till this Duncan Reeves fella.

Duncan Reeves, Duncan Reeves?

He writes those massive biographies.

Harry has been reading his Henry VIII

for five years.

Read it in a weekend. Loved it.

Oh, my God, I didn't even make the connection till now.

I was too distracted by the angry spit bubbles

in the corner of his mouth.

Okay, so you're both writers.

Now, you have common ground. Crime scene averted.

Good, because I don't know how to compost a body.

Well, I don't know if we have "common ground."

He said he needs absolute quiet

- to write, and I-- - Carrie!

I've been waiting years for Duncan Reeves' next book.

According to Goodreads, he has writer's block.

Take your damn shoes off.

Miranda, I don't care if William Shakespeare himself

is renting under me.

The heels do not come off.

Should I buy my cranky downstairs neighbor

- a welcome gift? - Yes.

- I think you should. - Aw. I'm not surprised

you said that.

So, how are you feeling about where you and Aidan are now?

Um... to be honest, it's...

- it's kind of a relief... - Mm.

...to not be thinking about what I should be doing

every day about it.

- It's out of my hands. - Wow.

That is so far past any ability that I would ever have.

I'm just being more realistic...

- Mm. - ...less romantic.

But the romance is still there?

Sure. Oh yeah.

It's just, uh, living under the reality.

- Mm. - We love each other very much,

but he can't be my everyday fella right now,

so I just have to give up the expectation

of a big, romantic, music-swell resolution.

Hmm.

It's so hard.

I don't know what I would do without Harry every day.

Waking up with him, going to bed with him...

Well, happily, you don't have to.

Motherfucker.

Thank you.

Oh, I'm loving our little after-dinner walk.

We should do this more often.

Actually, there's kind of a reason

I wanted to come on this walk with you.

To get away from the kids? Me, too.

Well, it's not really about the kids.

I-I-- I need to talk to you about something.

- Um... - Oh.

Do you remember when I wet myself at the club?

Mm-hmm.

And then, ya know, there was the trouble in the bedroom.

- Yeah? - Well, you know,

I decided to check it out, you know, just in case.

And, what do ya know, I got prostate cancer.

Oh, my God!

- Oh, my God! Oh, my God. - Keep it together, keep it together.

Keep it together, honey. Everything is gonna be fine.

We caught it early.

Oh. Oh, Harry--

Hey, hey, hey, listen.

Prostate cancer has a 98% survival rate.

Okay? Lots of men get it.

Robert De Niro, uh, Warren Buffett,

Nelson Mandela.

- But he died! - At 95!

Listen to me, I promise you,

I am not gonna die for a very long time, okay?

Okay?

You say "okay."

Okay.

I just want you to do me one favor.

Anything, baby.

Don't tell anyone.

Not the kids. Not our friends.

I don't wanna be the cancer guy.

I'm-- I'm gonna quit my job so that I can take care of you.

No, no, not okay. Not gonna happen.

'Cause then I'll be back to 100% and you'll be 100% out of a job.

So, no. Okay?

Say "okay."

Okay.

So, I...

I-- I guess we should cancel

the-- the camping for this weekend?

No way. I've been looking forward to it.

No, it's gonna be glamping as usual.

We are okay.

My flight from Atlanta doesn't land

till 4:00 on Friday

so you'll have to get the kids to Governors Island

- and I'll meet you there. - Hold up, hold up.

Meet who, where, what governor?

Governors Island. We're going glamping

with the Goldenblatts this weekend.

Since when? You never told me that.

Yes, I did.

I don't have to sleep on the ground, do I?

No, Henry, it's glamping. There'll be big fluffy beds.

I-I'd like to think that I would remember a word like "glamping."

- Honey, you never told me that. - I told you.

- But did you? - Mommy told me.

As soon as she gets back from shooting her documentary,

we're gonna make s'mores!

Oh, wait, Lis, I-- I'm supposed to do

some "regular guy around town" press pics

for my campaign this weekend.

Me eating a hot dog, me on the subway...

You, glamping. Hot dogs and subway

will be there on Monday.

Okay, so my car is out front.

No need to pack, the kids' stuff is ready to go.

And, just checking, you did hear me say, "No need to pack"?

Yeah, yeah, I heard all of that.