“We should’ve left earlier,” she says. “I’m not going to make it.”
“I’m not a doctor,” I say, pressing the back of my hand to her forehead. “But I think you’re going to make it after all.”
“Are you… joking right now?” Rooney asks. “This is my first meet-up for the Cloud Lovers League, and you’re cracking jokes. Remember, doing any of this was all your idea.”
“We already left work early,” I reason. “I don’t want you to miss the sunset, either.”
“We’re actually going to watch the cirrocumulus clouds as the sun sets. Not the same thing. Those type of clouds are the ones that look like rows of small puffs,” she says excitedly. “It’s supposed to be a fuchsia sky tonight, which I now won’t see.”
I gesture toward the windshield. “Oh, you’ll still see it. That’s what’s great about the sky. It’s everywhere.”
Rooney turns to face me in her seat, her expression more thoughtful. “That’s the thing. It’s everywhere, and yet how often do you notice it?”
“What do you mean? I see the sky all the time.”
“Yeah. We see things all the time, but how often are we really looking? And it’s bigger than simply seeing shapes. Take those clouds, for instance,” she says, pointing to an extensive patch of cloud covering. “Doesn’t it look like the ripple of the surface of the ocean, but from below? It’s like we’re all underwater.”
“Sounds like Fate Test 4 is working,” I say. “You interacted with someone online, and now you’re noticing these beautiful things.”
“Time will tell if it’s actually working, but I do feel like I’m noticing these small, fleeting moments,” she says. “What’s incredibleis that it’s ever-changing. Those clouds we just looked at? They’re darker and more scattered, and it’s only been a few minutes.”
I glance back up in the same direction. It’s true. Their color has taken on a bluer hue.
“It’s art created by the elements,” Rooney says, sounding amazed. “These magical moments are happening around us all the time, formed for no other reason than because invisible water vapor condenses into something visible in the air. They’re existing exactly as they are, but it takes focused observation to really give them meaning or purpose.”
“It’s like they’re hiding in plain sight,” I say.
This gets a smile out of Rooney. “I think you’re going to start noticing clouds now, too.”
I direct her attention to a cloud hovering above us. “That one looks like a paw.”
Rooney angles her phone up toward it to take a photo. “That’s for you to show Sprinkles later.”
“She’ll love it,” I say, catching myself smiling. I should not be bonding with this animal that’s not even mine. After nearly three weeks since finding Sprinkles, a neighbor finally called with information. Sprinkles’s previous owner moved out of state last month. Which means he left her behind. I tighten my grip around the steering wheel. Some people don’t deserve animals.
“Do you know what you’re going to do with her yet?” Rooney asks.
“The neighbors don’t want her. And I can’t put her up for adoption, either. I drove all the way to the shelter. Couldn’t bring myself to take Sprinkles into the building. You know she’s already found her favorite spot under the coffee table? And at night, she lies on my pillow and kneads my hair.”
“Jack, have you thought about keeping her?” Rooney asks softly.
“Me? Oh, I can’t have a cat. I work long hours. And we have our trip in a couple of weeks. I already feel terrible leaving her,” I say. “I’ve never had a pet. I wouldn’t even know what to do with one.”
“You’d do exactly what you’re doing now. Cats are generally pretty easy to care for. You can think about it over the trip,” she says. “She’s safe with you for now.”
For now. Those words linger longer than they should.
“What would you create if this were one of your installation themes? How might clouds play a part?” I ask, changing the subject. “It doesn’t even have to be for NASA.”
Rooney looks out the window and sighs. “I like to think it would be less about the clouds and more about nature. So much exists that we have no influence over. It’s like everything you’ve described about the universe, Mars even. We had nothing to do with that, and yet it’s stunning. I wish I had a better answer.”
“Let’s hope tonight’s fuchsia clouds help.”
“If we get there.” Rooney pulls the sleeves of what she calls her “chunky knit” sweater over her hands. She sinks lower into the seat, crossing her arms. “There’s still time. Let’s wait and see what happens. Maybe traffic will clear out.”
I pull the sunroof covering back so that the window is exposed above us. “You can get a better look this way.”
Rooney moves closer to me to lean her head back. Her bangs fall to the side, and I sneak a look at her eyes. At the same moment, she’s looking up at me. Heat shoots through me quickly, my cheeks the last to feel the effects. But even as my face burns, I keep my eyes trained on hers. In my peripheral vision, I can see the rise and fall of her chest quicken. It matches the pace of my own breathing.
