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“She doesn’t bother me,” he said. “I think she’s funny. I wish she would hang out more. See you around, Saber.”
“Bye,” she said, and blushed a little when he winked at her.
On the next teacher’s planning day, Saber and her dad went to an outdoorsy department store in Seattle for winter clothes, and it made her almost sick to see how much all the name-branded winter-gear cost.
“This is a four-hundred-dollar jacket,” she said, holding up a black winter coat, sleek and fitted, with down quilting.
“Do you want it?”
“That’s crazy,” she said, but when they left the store, she had it folded neatly in a shopping bag.
Her life had utterly changed, and it didn’t feel real enough to be happy about.
On the ferry ride back, her dad got a Zoom call.
“Ansel hey, I’m on the ferry, the call might drop,” he said, picking up the phone.
Saber glanced over at her dad, then back at her own phone, feeling a little jolt of excitement.
“Are you just leaving work?” Ansel’s voice still had that cool, resonant tone, even over the phone.
“No, no, Saber’s with me. She and I went shopping. She didn’t have any winter clothes.”
“Oh, nice. Hi, Saber.”
“Hi, Ansel.” Saber affected casual familiarity, then wondered if she soundedtoocasual.
“Jim,” Ansel went on, “I’m calling about the meeting you had with Chris this morning. He was supposed to give you a laptop—”
“Yeah, I’ve got it, I was going to drop it by—”
“Soon, if you don’t mind? I’ll be up. Bring Saber. We can have a drink and I can show off more of my collection.”
“Oh, uh, sure, if Saber doesn’t have homework.”
Saber’s dad looked at her as though to get confirmation and she pretended to think about it, then nodded that it was ok.
“Ok, we’ll be right over after we get off the ferry.”
Saber knew her crush on Ansel James was just a fantasy, but the thought of going to his house still made her belly fill with butterflies.
“We won’t stay for long,” her dad said as they finally pulled off the ferry ramp and onto island, through its shadowy, tree-lined streets toward Ansel’s mansion.
The house was as she remembered, complete with a small flock of ravens gathered on a tree in the front yard, but the visit was far less formal. Ansel met them wearing a tailored white shirt, but no jacket, and he sat with them in the living room instead of standing and inviting them to dinner.
“Here’s that laptop,” her dad said, placing a bulky manilla folder on the marble coffee table.
Ansel smiled at him.
“Thanks,” Ansel said, without touching it. “Saber, how are you liking school?”
“It’s fine so far. I’m getting used to it.”
“Your dad says you set up a studio?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “It’s really nice.”
“So you’re pretty serious about your painting? Considering art as a career?”
