For Christmas that year Mark and I take the train to New York City. It’s the first time I’ve traveled since I lost Alice, since I moved to Wisconsin. That was eight years ago, almost half my life I’ve been away from Los Angeles.
Not a day has gone by that I haven’t wondered how things might be different if Alice hadn’t have died. I’d still be in Los Angeles, certainly. But doing who knows what. I don’t think I ever would have met Mark, and I can’t imagine life without him. The farm life is certainly very different then the city life, and while I still miss Alice every day, I like it in Wisconsin. I always felt out of place in Los Angeles. The weather is colder, but it’s less busy. People are nicer. I like that.
And there’s Mark.
I always envied how in love Alice and Will were. It seemed impossible to me that I would ever find that kind of love, but I did. And here he is, taking trips with me to New York City.
We take our seats on the train and my mind begins to wander.
What if this is fate? What if someone meant for Alice to die so I could move to Wisconsin and be happy her with Mark?
It makes sense to me, in a way. The idea that our lives are decided for us, that there is someone who controls the path we go on in life and that we’re powerless to stop it. We’re a character in someone’s story, so to speak, and through our lives we add to the truth of human existence. They bring us good things and they bring us bad, and occasionally bad can lead to good.
I wonder about the person who would control my life. I see a girl, not much younger than myself. She hunches over her desk as she drinks a cup of coffee and nibbles on a chocolate chip cookie. She feels out of place in the world and knows her destiny is elsewhere. She takes me on this journey because she’s fascinated with the idea of finding her calling elsewhere. Telling my story, telling the stories of others. She brought me to Wisconsin because it’s familiar turf for her, and she can really tell my story and life here in enriching detail. She trudges through school, through her empty life, and gives me—in Mark—the happy ending she can only be uncertain about.
Oh, miss, whoever you are, where and whenever you are, I just hope that you’ll keep things the way they are, that Mark and I will be happy until the end of time. I have a good feeling, miss, I just wish I knew what you had in store for me.
“Hey,” Mark says to me. “You’re far away.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
He smiles and kisses me.
“We’ll be in New York soon.”
“I’m so excited,” I say.
“Me too.”
I’m tired, so I fall asleep on his shoulder.
Two days later. I’m standing with Mark on the top of the Empire State building. It’s a beautiful view, a perfect moment.
“Clara, I love you,” he says. There’s an edge of nervousness in his voice. Miss, what’s happening right now? Where is this going?
“Me too,” I say.
And he bends down on one knee and opens a jewelry box to reveal a ring.
“Clara Adams, will you marry me?”
I don’t have to think before I say yes.
Miss, thank you for this moment. Thank you. I know I’m going to be happy. Spending the rest of my life with Mark…well, that’s a fortune I never imagined would happened to me when I was still living in Los Angeles.
Thank you.
And I promise, you’ll find that thing that’s going to fill your empty void. But for now, I’m content for you to write my story.
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