Page 110 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

He scoffs. “I’ve made my contributions to the world, young lady. Quite a few of them, in fact. It’s your turn now.”

“If that were true, then you wouldn’t be sitting here with me, now, would you?” I say in a scolding tone.

He squints over at me, then stands. “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

I stand, facing him in the aisle. “Why are you telling me all this? You don’t even like me.”

“That’s true,” he says. “I don’t.”

I react with a shocked “Ha! Rude!”

But then he smiles, the wrinkles around his eyes and across his forehead deepening. And it’s a beautiful thing—proof that, once upon a time, there were things that made him happy enough to smile, even laugh. “You want the truth?”

“I do,” I say, even though I really want to make a joke in an attempt to make him laugh again.

“I talked to Annie yesterday.” He holds up both hands in front of him. “Before you say it, I’m not crazy—I know she’s gone. I’m not seeing ghosts or hearing her voice or conjuring her through some kind of candle or crystal or something.” His expression shifts. “She would’ve reminded me that teachers not only teach, they encourage, and if I saw something in you, it was my duty to tell you.” He starts to walk away. “So, do whatever you want. It’s not my problem anymore.”

For some inexplicable reason, I jump up and run after him, blocking his exit. And then I throw my arms around him in a tight hug that I hope conveys everything I need it to convey—that his words, so simple for him to say, have caused everything inside me to shift.

Idofeel deeply, and I don’t want to feel deeply. Because when I let it all in, it hurts.

I’ve never viewed this as an asset in my life or my relationships or my work. But what if it is? What if feeling deeplyismy superpower because it’s the thing that allows me to connect with other people?

And this? This feeling of overwhelming gratitude? This I have to let in. Because it just might be the thing that gives me the courage to change my life.

When I pull back, I see tears in the old man’s eyes.

“You big softie,” I say, smiling.

He grunts and waves me off.

I drop my hands to my sides but don’t move. “Do you think I’m crazy to keep pursuing this?” I ask.

He draws in a breath, and it occurs to me that I’m only seeing a fraction of his wisdom right now. How much more could I learn from this man?

“I think you have to ask yourself what it is you want most,” he says. “And you have to be okay if what you want most isn’t what you thought. Or if your dream has changed. Or if what you want is different now.” He pauses. “Our priorities shift as we get older. And you can still love the things you love, but maybe in a different way. Maybe a different city. Or a different aspect of the dream. Or maybe something entirely new. You could be a goat wrangler in Mexico—who knows?”

I meet his eyes as the hint of amusement flickers away.

“It’s your life, Rosie. Only you can decide what’s best for you. And if you don’t want to quit, maybe you just pivot. Keep your eyes open. Opportunities are everywhere.”

I laugh. “Okay, now you’re just speaking in fortune cookie.”

“I’m leaving.”

He starts to walk away, and I call after him. “Arthur?”

“I’m not stopping this time,” he says without turning around.

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

He lifts a hand to acknowledge he’s heard me, and I can’t be sure, but I think... maybe... he smiles.

***

Maya:Rosie, we need an update on Love Match. Full disclosure, I’m still logged into your account and saw you turned off notifications and haven’t responded to a single message.

Marnie:Are you logged into my account too?

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