Chapter 5

David watched from the bench as people walked by, talking to each other and pulling their dogs along on leashes. He had been there three times in the last few weeks to watch others enjoy activities he wanted to participate in. It was becoming his favorite spot to sit and think, wondering what his life could be like if he had made different choices. He sipped his half-caf americano and listened to dogs barking and children screaming on a playground behind him – welcome sounds to an empty heart and idle mind. Sarah had been gone for over a month – and taken her friends with her – and he felt the loneliness she left behind.

Across the park was a young woman who looked strikingly like Sarah. Impossible, though, since Sarah hated dogs. He watched as she bent down to pet a fluffy chow, looking up at the man on the other end of the leash. The chilly air and scent of roasted walnuts begged him to stay and watch them some more, but he had skipped lunch to be there and was running out of time. He had to get back to the grind, back to Edgar, and back to Edgar’s disappointment. He didn’t blame Edgar – everyone had high expectations of David based on years of performance, and he was letting them down.

He tossed his cup in a trash can and began the two-block walk back to his office. Even with skipping lunch, he would be ten minutes late. Edgar would glare as he walked in, but David would be safe from his wrath if he did nothing else to provoke him.

He could text his so-called pen pal, who he thought must be a female, as most men had neither the patience nor the thoughtfulness to carry on with him the way they – or she – did. So far, she had been kind enough to text back. It was the only real connection he’d made lately, feeble as it was. But it had already changed him; it had opened his eyes and changed his thoughts. There had to be something good in that.

He climbed the stairs to his office and looked around the empty hallway at the large offices on the other side. How long had he wanted to be in one of those offices? They looked less enticing now than they did when he started.

“Hey!” Abel came out from his cubicle as David walked by. “Wait up.”

David stopped and turned around.

“Thanks for taking the heat for me in that meeting this morning,” he jerked his head toward the conference room down the hall, “but you didn’t have to. It was my mistake.”

“No worries.” David shrugged. “You asked for my help, and I didn’t catch the error. It was as much my fault as yours. Besides, Hector already hates me. At least one of us can be on his good side.” He slapped Abel on the shoulder and stepped toward his office.

“Well, either way.” Abel smiled. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Anytime.” David waved as he continued down the hall.

“Can I at least get your lunch tomorrow?”

David looked over his shoulder at Able, who leaned against his cubicle smiling. “Sure.”

David checked his phone when he sat back down at his desk, lamenting his lack of social life. He was unreasonably excited at the prospect of a simple meal with a coworker, considering all they would talk about was work he hated doing. Still, it was a step in the right direction. Why hadn’t he taken the time to make friends outside of work?

I know this sounds desperate. I am desperate. But I have no one to talk to. Is it ok if I keep texting you?

He set the phone down with the screen still on and began working on the disorganized stack of papers in front of his computer. He didn’t realize three more hours had passed until his phone finally buzzed, and he looked up from his work.

I don’t mind if we keep texting.

Can I give you a name? Or even a nickname?

He knew he was pushing his luck. If it was a woman, she had plenty of reason to be wary of talking to a strange man.

You can give me a name, as long as it’s a nice one.

He leaned back in his chair and laughed. It would be presumptuous to give her a woman’s name, but he wanted to.

Sally? Richard? It’s tough to name someone you know nothing about.

Call me Em.

Ok, Em. Is there anything you can tell me about yourself? Favorite color? Can you at least tell me you’re human?

I could if I was human.

Funny and thoughtful. It had to be a girl.

In that case, I won’t discriminate. Might be the best conversation I’ve ever had with an alien. I guess I’ll never know.

Within seconds he was staring at a picture of a golden sunflower standing tall above a grassy field beneath it. It looked proud and majestic, looming over the grayed-out horizon, almost tall enough to reach the sun. A brown retriever napped on a farmhouse porch behind it.

Nice picture. Did you take it? Is it your favorite flower or favorite color?

She replied with a smiley face, so he could assume he was correct in one of those assumptions.

I had a dog like that growing up. His name was Bentley. Since then, labs have been my favorite.

He thought about his childhood companion for the first time in a long time. Bentley died right before David left for college, and he missed him terribly for those first few years. He might still be happy if he’d gotten a dog instead of a girlfriend.

Why don’t you have a dog? You seem to really like them.

No time. Hopefully someday.

Hopefully, a lot of things would be different someday. Her previous words echoed in his mind as he continued working. You have to make time. Maybe he could get a dog and make it fit into his life. He was already scaling back at work and no longer had a girlfriend who hated them – why not give himself that tiny slice of happiness?

He left work at 5:00 – two hours earlier than normal – and took a different route to his gym. He passed by stores he never knew existed, a new ice cream parlor, a hotdog cart, several restaurants, and a coffee shop. He peeked through the large window next to the coffee shop door and examined the sunken leather chairs, the many wooden tables, and the massive chalkboard menu behind the counter. Two women were busy taking orders while a handful of workers ran back and forth between them and a kitchen door. The closest cashier turned and waved, flashing him a dimpled smile that emanated from deep within her. As inviting a scene as it was, he wouldn’t skip his workout to explore it further. Next week. Next week I’ll stop in and try it.