The rest of the group swivels around at Benedita’s greeting, and Lydia rushes forward to compliment her outfit. I hang back, smiling faintly. I may not be able to picture myself as one of the rich, fancy guests, but Icanpicture myself in Benedita’s shoes. Working hard at a job I love, with a partner by my side who really understands me.
Two interns drop back near me to whisper to each other. “See that guy?” one of them says. “He works at theNew York Times.I’m going to go introduce myself, wanna come?”
I jolt in alarm. TheNew York Times.Crap.
The day’s been so busy, I forgot to do Wordle. I’m so close to hitting a year, I can’t give up on it now.
I make noises about finding a bathroom and then hurry off to a quieter hall. I take out my phone and see I’ve missed a few texts.
[7:53]Rose:I heard a rumor today that Shelley might be moving to Charlottetown
[7:53]Rose:All the folks who worked with her at the store are thinking of pooling in to pay for her moving van ;-)
[7:53]Rose:Hope you’re doing well!
[8:05]Kiara:Want to have a (virtual) coffee date this weekend?
[8:05]Kiara:I want to hear how things are going down there
[8:05]Kiara:Plus I have news
[8:06]Kiara:(And NO, I’m not pregnant)
[8:06]Kiara:(Thank god)
[8:06]Kiara:It’s about John.
[8:07]Kiara:Hopefully it’s not too weird to hear stuff about him, but I thought you’d want to know he bought the shop.
[8:07]Kiara:Or he’s buying it, anyway
[8:07]Kiara:That douche Fred is totally gouging him, so John’s buying him out slowly over the next couple months
[8:07]Kiara:Still, it’s pretty cool!
[8:08]Kiara:Unless hearing things about him ISN’T cool and makes you feel sad
[8:08]Kiara:In which case please erase these messages from your brain
My heart twists strangely in my chest. John bought theshop?
I look around the empty hallway. I feel—
I don’t know how I feel. My fingertips are prickly, and there’s the strangest feeling stirring inside me.
I can’tbelieveJohn bought the shop.
My thumb hovers over my phone. The urge to text him is almost overwhelming. But what would I say? That I’m happy for him? That I’m proud of him for going after his dream? That I wish I could be there to see him do it?
I swipe an impatient hand over my cheek. I’m practically crying all of a sudden, which doesn’t make sense. I’ve already put John and Waldon behind me. This news doesn’t change anything.
Does it?
I flinch as a door bangs open down the hall. A pair of uniformed servers stride toward me carrying heavy bags of ice. They look at me curiously. I clear my throat and swipe open Wordle, just to have something to point my eyes at.
I try to think of a word to start with—some word that encapsulates the feeling of this gala, maybe—but for some reason I’m drawing a total blank.
DREAM, whispers a voice in the back of my mind. As in, John is going after his dream.
