Page 91 of In a Word, Yes

Ugh. Lately I’m completely incapable of accessing my rational line of thinking for more than three minutes. There’s something about our unexpected friendship that turns my brain into marzipan.

“I know whatyou’resmiling about this morning,” Dot singsongs. Her eyes brim with mischief.

Perfect. I feel my face redden.

“When am I not smiling?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Maybe I got Wordle on the first try.”

Dot holds up a stack of this week’s fresh-off-the-pressMessenger. The one featuring a photo I shot of Steph rappelling out at Smith Rock, along with the accompanying article. And there’s my name, right beneath Meg’s.

“Or maybe a certain talented friend of mine got her first front-page byline. Lucy, I’m so stinking proud of you!”

I release a pent-up breath. “Oh, that. Yep, you caught me. It feels pretty special.” I flip the page on my desk calendar. And it really does.

But now I’m stunned. Well, look what snuck up on me.October 21.

Five years to the day.

As Mom likes to say,God is so funny.

“Hold up. It’s something else, isn’t it? Talk to me, Lucy.Did something happen with that charming bike cop? That’s it. It’s all over your face. I saw him riding downtown the other day, and—oh my. I—wait. Are those tears?”

Are they?

“What is it, hon?”

I take off my glasses and press on my eyes. “Oh Dot, I’m so confused. Did I ever tell you that not long after I moved here, I dated a guy for a little while? It didn’t go well.”

“You never mentioned it.”

Of course I hadn’t. I was a silo. A potted plant with a popsicle stick garden marker that read “Doesn’t mingle well with others.”

Dot strokes my upper arm. “What didn’t go well, hon?”

“Let’s just say my booby prize, my parting gift from those years with Devin, was that I only knew how to behave in a toxic relationship. It bled over into my new relationship. This time, I was the carrier.Iwas the insecure one, sabotaging things.” I swipe my eyes, wipe them on my jeans. “Like, I had no idea how to be normal within the context of a healthy romantic relationship. What if I still don’t?”

“Is it possible it was just too soon?”

“For sure it was way too soon. In some ways, that’s how I discovered how messed-up I was. But, Dot, how do I know it won’t happen again?”

“Well, for starters, you don’t. You don’t know. Love uncovers our vulnerabilities. It’s bound to. It’s meant to. But that doesn’t mean you’re not ready to work through those things if they do come up.” Dot places an entire box of tissues in my hands. “Aw, honey. Maybe it’s scary because it’s unfamiliar. Not because you’re incapable.”

It’s entirely possible all I really needed today was one of Dot’s supersquishy hugs. And later, when a Zebra Cake appears at my station, I do feel like somehow everything is going to be okay.

Besides, she’s right. There is ample reason to celebrate today.

***

“What’d ya think about this week’s letters, Montgomery?” Sam asks, reappearing from a lunch break at home with Noleen.

Oof.Truth is, I’d rather not revisit this week’s letters to the editor. So much ranting. So little in the way of constructive ideas. Where’s the call to a better way forward?

I twist my mouth sideways.

Sam nods, signaling me to follow him into his office. “Yep. We all have things we’d like to get off our chests, but there comes a point when bellyaching is sour to the point of toxic.”