Hugo stopped and dropped his eyes toward the rut filled path, trying to find the words. Alice stopped as well, her puzzled expression now a concerned look. Hugo paused for a moment before looking at Alice.

“I used to be in finance. That was… until Elizabeth died. They gave me a week to grieve. Only a week. Then they expected me to go about life like nothing happened. Like how? How can I grieve for an entire lifetime lost in only a week?”

“That’s horrible. I couldn’t imagine the emotions you were going through in that week.”

“I lasted a day. We were in a meeting to discuss budgets or some nonsense. People were arguing. I sat there listening. After a few minutes, I slammed my fist on the table and yelled, ‘WHEN WE ALL DIE, NONE OF THIS WILL MATTER, SO WHO CARES?’ Everyone sat there in stunned silence. I stood up, went to clean out my desk, and then I left.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” She hugged Hugo.

He smelled a hint of lavender from her clothes. The embrace of a woman stirred even more feelings within Hugo—feelings he locked away to be forgotten. Never to be embraced again. Thoughts stirred in his mind. Thoughts he tried to suppress, but the emotions were too strong. He wanted more.

“That’s okay. I’m fine.”

“I thought we agreed to not use that phrase,” Alice scoldedas she pulled back.

He wanted the hug to continue.

Hugo chuckled. “You caught me. I am most certainly not fine. I’m lucky that I have the luxury of not needing to work.”

“Oh?”

“I still have half of Elizabeth’s life insurance money. Plus, money left over from when her parents passed. I paid off the house. Sold my car. Kept hers. Got Max to keep me company. And every day, I wait for answers about what to do next. Hopefully, I get them before the money runs out.”

“What will you do if it does?”

“I don’t know. Work for the Raskins, I guess. Maybe then I’ll actually fill up my fridge, since I won’t have to use that as an excuse to visit them.” He laughed.

They continued their journey. Alice occasionally picked up leaves, sticks, or other objects of nature found on the ground. One spot caught her attention. She stopped and carefully sifted through the brown, discarded leaves.

Hugo waited for her. Max investigated what Alice was doing, but was impatient to continue their walk. Alice kept digging to find the most prized ones. She picked up a few, placed them in her bag, and then they continued down the path.

“So, do you like collecting nature things?” Hugo asked.

“Sort of. I like to make things with them, but only the perfect ones.”

“They all look the same to me. Dried up, shriveled leaves and broken sticks are all around us, so you have plenty to choose from.”

“I can tell which are the perfect ones.”

“And how can you tell which ones are perfect?” Hugo asked, his voice raised in a higher sarcastic pitch.

“Take this one, for example.” Alice squatted down to grab a stick that was as long as her hand.

The grayish-brown stick snapped in the middle; the two halves barely held together by the bark. “This is a perfect stick.”

“That’s a broken stick,” Hugo replied.

“Only to the untrained eye. Look.” She pulled out a small roll of gaffer’s tape from her bag. She wrapped the tape around the stick, mending the two pieces back together. “This stick has been damaged, yes, but with a little mending at the right parts, it will be as good as new.” She ripped the tape off from the roll and gave it one final press.

“That looks like a stick with tape on it.”

She placed the stick and tape back into her bag. She smirked at Hugo and continued down the path. Hugo took off after her. Max followed behind briefly before charging ahead. She tugged and pulled at the leash to get Hugo to move faster. After a brief game of leash tug-of-war, Max relented and took a more leisurely pace at the head of their newly formed pack.

“So, there is this thing coming up. A big fall, pumpkin, Halloween type festival the town puts on every year. You’d really love it,” Hugo said.

“Oh, yeah?” Alice asked with a raised inflection.

“Well, I was thinking, since you are new in town—”