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Sophie looks so much like my daughter did at that age. The only difference is, Sophie’s hair is blond and Amelia’s hair is brown. Sophie’s hugging a cuddly lamb, and my heart aches. Amelia’s favorite toy was her floppy puppy. She wouldn’t go anywhere without it.
The shadows under Violet’s eyes from yesterday are still there. Shadows similar to the ones under my eyes. She notices me and smiles.
I return her smile and approach them.
“Hi,” Violet says. “You’re Jessica, right?”
“You can call me Jess. You’re Violet, and this sweetheart must be Sophie.” I crouch to her level. “Aren’t you a little cutie?”
“Mama!” Sophie replies with a toothy grin, and my heart aches some more. I can barely breathe, remembering when Amelia had first called me that.
I straighten and try to think of something to say that won’t sound awkward. My ability to socialize and make friends is as rusty as my bike.
“How are you enjoying living in Maple Ridge?” Violet’s words eagerly roll out, her tone sweet and welcoming.
“So far, I’m really liking it. The mountains are so close, and I love living within biking distance of a lake.” It might not be the ocean, but it’s still water. “It’s so peaceful there.”
“It is. Do you do yoga? I find that’s also peaceful. Or it is when I manage to practice without my daughter trying to climb me like a piece of playground equipment.” She laughs softly, almost a chuckle, and kisses the top of Sophie’s head.
“No, but I’ve always wanted to try it.” It wasn’t something that was offered in prison. “Is there a yoga studio around here?” I haven’t seen one, but I haven’t looked all that hard either.
“Yes and no. It’s not an official studio. It’s run out of the instructor’s home, but the classes are good. I usually go to the Wednesday night session.” She pulls out a notepad and pen from her purse, writes down a name, phone number, and address, and hands it to me. “The level I’m in is good for beginners and those with yoga experience.”
Her phone plays a tune from her purse. She sighs, fishes the phone out, and answers it. “Hello.” The greeting comes out flat, and she winces. “I’m at the store now…” Her voice is soft, almost timid. It’s nothing like her tone a moment ago when she was talking to me. “Yes. Yes. I know.…I will. I should be home in fifteen minutes.…Bye.” She ends the call, and an uncertain smile flickers on her face. “I need to get going, but I hope I see you at yoga tomorrow.”
Before I can respond, Violet hurriedly pushes the shopping cart away, stopping only long enough to grab a bunch of bananas.
I buy a few items to last me the next couple of days. It’s hard to stock up when you don’t have a car. But it’s not like I have anyone to invite over. Things, though, will be more challenging come winter. How easy will it be for me to bike to the store when the roads are covered in snow?
I pedal home, thinking about Violet and her invitation to join her at yoga. I really would like to. The more friends I have, the better. Friends who aren’t necessarily linked to one man. And who won’t show him loyalty over me because their boyfriend or husband is his friend.
I park my bike in the garage and walk to the back door of the house. A note is taped to the window. I pull it off and read it. Or try to. It starts with my name and it’s from Troy, but the rest of the note is a strange combination of dashes, dots, spaces, and slashes.
Morse code? Maybe. Or it could be some other code I know nothing about.
I check that the thread on the door hasn’t been disturbed, unlock the door, and go inside. I place the groceries and note on the kitchen table. Then I rush around the house, checking the rest of my security measures.
Back in the kitchen, I turn on my cellular data, google a Morse code chart, screenshot it, and turn off my data.
I grab a pencil and notepad from the bits-and-bobs drawer, sit at the table, and slowly decode the message:
Are we still on for tonight? There is something I need to talk to you about.
A grin spreads across my face at the effort Troy went through to write the message. All because he noticed my interest in World War II.
I check the time. He’s at the Veterans Center, volunteering.
Me: Got your message. Yes. We’re still on for tonight.
Troy responds a few minutes later.
Troy: Glad you figured it out.
Me: I loved it.
Troy: Thought you might. I’ll be over in an hour.
Figuring he might be hungry by then, I make dinner for two. The casserole is nothing fancy. While it’s baking, I call the number Violet gave me and sign up for the Wednesday night yoga class. I mean, why not? Part of my goal of starting my life over is to also have friends. And I would like to be Violet’s friend.
