“You need to meet my new friend JJ; you’d hit it off…” I tell Siler all about him, realizing I’ve missed JJ, too. Our last interaction was strange at best. It’s not every day you catch your co-worker sneaking through windows. “...maybe he’ll come with me to your game.”
My energy doesn’t flag a bit after disconnecting from Siler. I scroll through my messages. The last one from JJ:Update please-r u alive?
Deciding to get some fresh air, I choose to see if JJ is at the art gallery instead of merely texting him back. It’s the least I could do… some face-to-face explanation. Except, how do I explain my absence without lying?
I slide two of my notecard drawings into my pocket before leaving. With my renewed spirit, I notice things I hadn’t before. The student in the room next door has poems written on food wrappers adorning the wall by their entrance. A strong scent of jasmine emanates from the lounge at the end of the hall. Friendly smiles and greetings come from several people as I make my way outside.
Maybe I haven’t been paying attention.
The lack of friends could be the result of being closed off.
The bright fall sun makes me squint as I pass a group doing yoga on the lawn. I make mental notes to catalog the things catching my attention… the man with headphones dancing in a circle, the breeze causing a woman to stop and put her hair up.
Just like I’ve always done… finding inspiration for my drawings.
Two blocks from the art gallery is a dance studio. I’ve barely paid attention to it before today. What grabs my gaze is a dark-haired young woman in a leotard and tights, sitting with her back against the wall next to the door. She’s slumped forward, shoulders rising and falling. She digs in the backpack next to her for tissue.
Lingering briefly near the corner, I debate whether I should bother her. But then I think of the notes in my pocket and where they’ll do the most good.
“Bad day?” I lower myself onto a decorative boulder placed a couple feet from where the dancer sits.
“That’s an understatement.” She wipes her eyes with the tissue before sniffing. Then she tells me she’s getting back into dancing after an injury. Her hopes of making the dance companyshe auditioned for fell through. Then her boyfriend broke up with her. With each added problem, her crying accelerates.
I move closer to sit beside her. After introducing myself, her mouth drops open. “You have to be kidding me. I’m an Elizabeth, too. Liz Timms.”
Carefully placing a note I drew this morning of a little girl chasing a leaf with the message,Don’t forget why you started,inside her partially open backpack, I listen as she recounts the phone call with the jerk of an ex. I know I was meant to meet her today and deliver this.
I’m getting up to walk the rest of the way to the gallery when a furry moppet of a dog plows into me, a leash dragging behind him. Tail wagging and full of aggressive licks, he whimpers in excitement.
“Is he yours?” Liz asks, springing up to grab the leash.
I check his tags and see that my new pal is named Jubilee, but his owner neglected to put an address or phone number on it. Shaking my head, I tell her, “No, and I’m not sure how we’ll find who he belongs to.”
I debate whether I should try to hunt down an owner looking for their dog or continue to the gallery, but I’m not even sure JJ is there. “Guess I’m on a mission to find Jubilee’s home.” I take the leash from Liz before squatting down next to him, scratching under his chin. “Isn’t that right, buddy?”
Liz, thanks me for listening. She asks for my phone number, saying it’s been hard making friends at Rockefeller Amherst. I’m eager to exchange numbers, not only because she seems kind, but because it feels hopeful. Like I’ll have the opportunity to make new friends and have new experiences.
Maybe New York was the best decision I could’ve made.
I rest my case.
Chapter Ten
Josh
Last thing I expected today was Elizabeth Timms gracing me with her presence. What on God’s green earth? I passed her earlier as she paced in front of the dance studio, now she’s standing next to me, beaming. I wonder if she’s going to ask me for a favor. Never once before, when I’ve seen her on the Rock Am campus, has she even glanced my way.
“Uh, say again?”
She pulls out a notecard with a picture on it, an inspirational quote in fancy writing beside it. “Did you put this in my bag?” Biting her lip, her eyes shining with tears, I take the notecard to look closer.
This looks like…
I look over my shoulder towards the hatbox I have in the back room, then back at the note.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me. I just wanted to say I appreciate it. You have no idea how much I needed this today, ofall days.” She takes the card back and slips it into the pocket of her bag. “Thank you. Truly.”
Before I can find my voice again, she’s bounced her way out the door of the shop.
