\"DO You KNOW WHAT arm candy is?\" Nora s cousin Har-
lan asked， juggling her suitcases as he signaled a cab on
Seventh Avenue. There d been a taxi stand right outside
Pennsylvania Station， but Harlan had suggested they
walk to his place， since it was so dose; the heavy luggage
had changed his mind.
\"Arm candy?\" Nora squinted against searing sun-
shine--a shock to the retinas after the subterranean lab-
yrinth of Penn Stationwto take in the pandemonium of
midtown Manhattan on this radiant， early September af-
ternoon. \"Is that， like， drugs?\"
\"That s one meaning.\" He waved a cab over. \"What s
with the gawking?\" The cab swung to a stop in front of
them， its trunk popping open when the driver spied the
suitcases. Stowing them away， Harlan said， \"It s not like
you ve never been in a big city before.\"
\"Cleveland s minor league compared to this.\" Nora
tossed her army surplus knapsack into the back seat and
slid in after it， followed by Harlan， who gave the driver
his address in the recently revi~azed Manhattan neigh-
borhood of Chelsea. The cab pulled away from the curb
into a creeping morass of traffic.
I get it，\" I-Iarlan said. \"This move to New York is
some kind of personal test for you. If you can make it
here， you can make it anywhere?\"
\"Hey， you made it here.\" Nora gave him a playful
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