Page 47 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper
I can’t promise that wishes always come true. But I believe they can, and I would be willing to bet my heart on that—because if there is anything worth wishing for, it’s a happily ever after.
It was nonsensical how this origami flower was here in his apartment, but it reminded him of that childhood game where you connected tin cans with a string and, supposedly, if you held it taut enough, you could talk on one end and whoever was connected to it on the other side would be able to hear and send an answer back. The tin cans had never worked for him, but whatever was happening with these paper roses, itwasworking.
Oliver hated the lack of logic behind it, and yet, he was well on his way to drunk, so he reached for a pen.
That’s a wager I can’t match. My heart is too scarred for happily ever afters. I think a lot of people’s are.
Then, because it had worked before, he scooped up the square of origami paper to throw it in the trash. It didn’t make any sense thatthatwas how it would get back to whoever was writing to him, but that’s what he’d done previously, and Oliver was too worn out to think any more deeply.
But just before he dropped it in with the kitchen garbage, he paused.
Then he carried the unfolded paper rose into his bedroom and tossed it in the trash can by his desk instead.
He’d thrown the prior rose into ketchup-and-mustard-littered garbage at a hot dog stand. Maybe this one deserved a little better.
Chloe
The next day at Central Park, it was just Chloe and Xander and Ravi, two of her former students who had been floored to find out she wouldn’t be their counselor anymore, but relieved that they could still spend time with her this summer during their brief free moments away from work (Xander at the family restaurant and Ravi at his dad’s leather repair store).
The morning passed quickly with the boys providing entertaining chatter. When lunchtime came, Chloe took a minute to lean back in her chair, close her eyes, and listen to the softswish-swishof the elm leaves above. It smelled of summer, the air warm with a hint of a possible rainstorm. She stretched her arms, then her hands, wiggling her fingers to shake out the cramps.
“Excuse me,” a woman was saying to Ravi and Xander. “Is this where the paper roses are made?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ravi said.
“I got one of your flowers yesterday,” the woman said. “The note inside was,The past doesn’t dictate the future.It was the message I needed, more than you can know.”
Xander nodded sagely. “That seems to happen to a lot of people.”
“Well,” the woman said, “I was thinking maybe it was a sign that I should come here. To help. I haven’t always been the best person, and I want to try to do some good. Are you still accepting volunteers?”
“I dunno,” Ravi said. “Ms. Quinn?”
The woman squinted at Chloe. “My word. Chloe Hanako Quinn, is that you?”
Chloe’s jaw dropped open. “Mrs. Jones?”
She had the same forest-green eyes as Oliver, and the same dark flame-colored hair, too, although hers was streaked with silver now.
“You don’t have to call me Mrs. Jones anymore. Jennifer is fine.” She smiled. “It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you.”
Chloe didn’t know what to do next. Normally, you hug someone from your hometown whom you haven’t seen for a decade and a half. But what was the protocol for running into your childhood best friend’s mother, when she must have had a role in tearing it all apart? Kids didn’t simply disappear from a town on their own.
But now that Jennifer was here, Chloe couldn’t stop the flood of questions in her mind. What happened? Where was Oliver now? Was he happy? Married with kids? She didn’t know even the most basic stuff, like, was his hair still shaggy and dyed emo black or what the heck did he look like as a full-grown adult?
Instead of asking any of those things, though, Chloe shifted awkwardly on the bench and just said, “Um… How is Oliver these days?”
Jennifer laughed. “Brilliant and successful and rich. But you should ask him yourself. He’s here in New York, too.”
Chloe choked on her heart.No. Could it be…?
If so, why wouldn’t he have said something?
But Oliver’s mom had just mentioned that he was rich. Tolly, on the other hand, had pointed out that he bought his clothes at Men’s Wearhouse BOGO sales, and Bergdorf’s—the playground of the wealthy like Zac—had seemed wholly unfamiliar to him.
“Anyway, sugar,” Jennifer was saying, “I came here today looking for the source of the paper roses to see if I could contribute, and lo and behold, I found you.” She clapped her hands and pointed at a stack of yellow origami paper. “So, can you teach me how to fold these delightful little roses?”
Dear Oliver,
