Page 68 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper
One of his cashiers was ringing up a blond couple, who carried two of the biggest boxes the bakery offered.
Giovanni stopped by to thank them for coming in. “I’m so happy you found so much you like,” he said, smiling. “I’m Giovanni, by the way.”
“Pleased to meet the legend,” the man said with a Texan drawl. “I’m Duncan and this is my wife, Debbie. We’re visiting from Fort Worth, and Deb found your bakery on five different ‘must try’ lists.”
“I’m a foodie,” she said. “To me, the real point of a vacation is to eat.”
Giovanni was blushing. “I don’t know if I’m a legend. My shop’s only a few months old. But I’ve been really blessed by all the customers like you who are willing to take a chance on someone new.”
“Well, get used to it,” Duncan said. “When we get home, we’re telling all our friends that theyhaveto come here next time they’re in the Big Apple.”
“Thank you,” Giovanni said, cheeks still burning. “Oh, hey, before you go, please take a couple of these with you.” He plucked two yellow paperroses from the basket he kept by the register. “There’s an inspirational note inside each one. The artist behind them came into my life exactly when I needed her. Now I’m trying to spread the joy.”
Debbie opened her origami flower right away and let out a whoop as soon as she read it, making the people in line behind her jump.
“?‘Your purpose is to be a bright light. You have within you the power to refract happiness and share it with many,’?” she read. She looked over at Duncan. “Baby, we were just talking about helping me find purpose in my life! And this is spot-on!” She started singing the opening lines of “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”
He nodded at Giovanni. “You said there was an artist who makes these paper flowers? You think she’d be willing to franchise?”
Giovanni grinned. “You won’t need Chloe’s permission. I guarantee she’d love it if you brought her message with you to Texas.”
Chloe
Chloe’s fingers hovered over the keyboard on her phone as she stood next to the Shakespeare statue in Central Park the next morning, waiting for theNew York Timesreporter and photographer. She itched to text Oliver—she hadn’t talked to him since the gala and the brief exchange of messages immediately after—but she didn’t know what to say.I’m still thinking about the rooftop? I like both of you and I’m so confused? Why didn’t you come back into my life earlier, before I met Zac?
But it wasn’t just that Chloe didn’t know what to say to Oliver. She wasn’t clear on how she felt about him, either. Obviously, the chemistry was there. But how much of her wanting him was based on the current, grown-up Oliver? And how much was an idealization of an unfinished first love?
Chloe wasn’t stupid. She was well aware that, being thirty-two, she existed in the prime demographic for nostalgia, where she was experienced enough—and still single enough—to look back and wonder if maybe the pure, all-consuming love of adolescence wasn’t somehow better. And being primed for nostalgia meant she might be more susceptible to seeing Oliver through rosier lenses than if she’d just met him today on an app or in line at a café or at the grocery store.
Come to think of it, whatdidChloe know about Oliver now? She knew that he lived somewhere in New York City and worked for Hawthorne Drake. But that was it, really. Until the gala, Chloe hadn’t even known for sure that Tolly was Oliver.
Then there was the eight-hundred-pound ghost in the room that he wouldn’t talk about: What happened sixteen years ago? Why had Oliver and his family disappeared without a trace? And if he’d truly loved Chloe, why hadn’t he written or picked up the phone and called?
And perhaps the most crucial questions of all: Why was Chloe willing toforgive him so easily for demolishing her heart? And was she really going to let Oliver return without any explanation or apology?
But she already had, hadn’t she?
“Ms. Quinn?” A woman in a sleek silk tank and slacks held up her press credentials badge. “Wanda Silverberg,New York Times. And this is one of our best photographers, Michael Taylor.”
Chloe’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. Michael was her college boyfriend, the one she’d moved to New York with. He looked about the same as the last time she saw him three and a half years ago, after they’d broken up—medium height, medium brown hair, generally good-looking in a medium sort of way. Well, his receding hairline was more pronounced now and he was a little heavier, but otherwise, the same.
“Hey, Chloe.”
“Wow… Hi, Michael.” It was crazy that he’d popped back into her life now, on top of the recent drama with Zac and Oliver. Chloe half expected the rest of her dating history to show up—the musician from the tiki bar. The social media manager from that start-up whose entire premise was giving umbrellas to children. Heck, maybe even Charles Childress from high school would make an appearance.
“You know each other?” Wanda, the reporter, asked.
Michael gave Chloe a hug. “We met in college and dated for a while. But obviously Chloe is the more successful of the two of us now.” He smiled genuinely, and it gave Chloe a small thrill, because when they’d come to New York, Michael had been the one with his act together while she had still been floundering through the mind-numbing job of dusting sculptures in a museum storage room.
Not that she had her act together now. Technically, Chloe was unemployed. But maybe the best things in life were stumbled upon accidentally.
“Well,” Wanda said, “do you want to walk and talk? And afterward, we can swing by the tables where your origami-making operation is set up and Michael can take some photos?”
“Sure,” Chloe said. “I’ve never done an interview before, so I’ll follow your lead.”
“All right, then.” Wanda began a leisurely stroll through the park. “Mind if I record this? And ignore Michael—he’s going to get shots of you whilewe’re chatting. I’d love to begin with the origin story for these paper roses, and whether you knew it would become a global phenomenon.”
Chloe cocked her head. “A global phenomenon? I mean, we have a small group of regulars folding flowers every day here in the park, and I heard there were some social media videos out there, but I hardly think that counts as viral.”
