Zoe was the artist being honored, therefore she began to get a bit of attention from people who weren't in that initial group. Ethan also had a few people come up and ask for a picture, and so did Theo. It was a busy hour and then, just like that, it was over.
Theo and I said our goodbyes to Lu and the rest of the gang, but Lane and Zoe stayed in the gallery with us. There were a few staff members walking around and getting everything cleaned up, but other than that, it was just the four of us. We found ourselves standing in an open area in the gallery. Theo had not let go of me the whole evening, a fact for which I was extremely grateful.
"I'll lock up," Lane said.
"Are y'all coming upstairs?" Zoe asked. "We've got a babysitter. She'll have Hannah put to bed by the time we get up there. Y'all could come over for a little bit if you want."
Theo looked at me and shrugged as if asking me what I thought. "I'll probably just keep her to myself tonight," he said.
"How about breakfast in the morning," she asked. "Lane will make his famous French toast."
I smiled at Theo and lifted my eyebrows. "I like anything famous," I said.
"How's 10 o'clock?" Theo asked.
"Perfect," she said.
Lane went to lock the front door before once again joining our circle. Zoe held her hand out for him as he approached. "Are you ready to head upstairs?" she asked.
"Yep." He kissed her cheek. "You did good, 'lil mama," he said to her. "We sold everything."
"I'm so thankful," she said humbly.
Lane smiled at her and then looked at us. "You two coming upstairs?" he asked, assuming we'd both be getting on the elevator.
"Caroline and I haven't even talked about what we're doing," Theo said. He looked at me. "I have something to show you while we're down here, anyway."
"I know what it is," Lane said, pulling his wife toward the elevator.
"What?" Zoe asked, hating that she was the only one who didn't know.
"I don't know either," I said.
"Don't tell her," Theo said to Lane.
Lane shook his head as he and Zoe walked away.
"So glad you're here!" Zoe yelled as she followed Lane to the elevator.
"I'm glad too!" I yelled back. I stared at Theo with wide eyes. "She's the sweetest person ever," I said. "They all are. What is this place? Everybody's so happy."
Theo shrugged. "Happy people make good art. I don't know, maybe sad ones do too," he added, reconsidering. "…tortured artists and whatnot. But we have a lot happy ones around here."
Theo took me by the hand and pulled me toward the back of the gallery. I glanced but didn't really have the chance to take in some of the wonderful art on the way down the hallway.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked.
"My office," he said.
"What's in there?"
"You'll see. I wonder if your family told you anything about this, or if they even knew anything about it."
"What is it?"
"That little desk right over there."
His office was rather large. Toward the left, was an ornate mahogany desk, and on the right was a seating area. Perfectly positioned in the back corner of this area was a simple, old, wooden school desk, and I looked at Theo the instant it sank in what it was.
"That's not the one from…"
He smiled and nodded.
"Is it the one from the library?" I asked.
He continued to nod.
"The exact one?" I asked.
"Yes."
I instantly jogged to the other side of his office and sat on the ground in front of the desk. He had written our names underneath, so I ducked under the desk, inspecting the underside. "Oh my gosh, it seriously is there. They're right here, Theo. Our names are on here."
I reached up and touched the letters that had been carved into the wood twenty years before. I inspected it for what must've been a full minute before shimmying out from under the desk and letting him help me to my feet.
"Did you get this before or after you came to Florida?"
"Before," he said. "I told you all about it when I went down there. I even showed you my scar."
He put his hand out and let me see the scar that was on his finger.
"I remember this," I said. "I remember you cutting yourself." I reached out to grab his hand holding it in front of me so I could get a good look at the scar. I ran my finger back and forth across it and then looked up to make eye contact with him. I reached up and touched another scar that was on the top part of his cheek, stretching downward to the hollow of his cheek. "I think I might have given you that one, too—the second time we saw each other. I'm really sorry if that's the case."
"What makes you think you gave me this one?" he asked.
"I just assumed you got it in the wreck because you didn't have it in the documentary."
"What are you, a detective?"
I smiled and touched it again. "Did you have anything else," I asked softly as I touched the little line on his cheek. "My parents told me you fractured your arm, but they didn't say anything about this. I'm sorry."
"I thought you'd like it," he said.
"I do like it. It's really handsome on you, actually."
He looked at me with a sincere expression. I had no idea what he was going to say. "Please don't ever be sorry about the accident," he said. "That was not your fault."
"It's crazy that you don't remember it, either," I said.
"I remember everything leading up to it, I just don't remember the accident itself. We had just stopped at the grocery store."
***
I fell asleep in my clothes that night.
Theo and I stayed up till 4am, talking about everything we had missed in each other's lives. Theo said we talked about some of the same topics that we did when he was in Florida with me. He thought it was interesting that I responded to some things the same way I did back then, but to others, my responses had changed. He said that to him it seemed like I was the same person only that I had kind of settled into more of a confident, laid-back version of myself.
I asked him during our conversation if someone in Canada had cheated him out of some money before he left. I told him I had that feeling when I watched the documentary, and Theo said it was definitely a memory I had from our time together because he hadn't told anyone else that story.
I fell asleep snuggled up next to him on the couch, and that was exactly how I woke up.
I opened my eyes to find that Theo was staring down at me from his position stretched out next to me on the couch. He was holding his phone, and he reached over me to stash it on the nearby table when he saw me open my eyes. He kissed me—half on my cheek and half on my nose.
"It's nine fifty, sleepy bones," he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual on account of his own sleepiness. "Lane's blowing up my phone, saying we should be over there at 10 for his famous French toast."
"We slept so late," I said.
"Because we went to sleep late."
I stretched a little before snuggling up next to Theo again. He had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt the night before, but I was still in the outfit I had on at the gallery. I picked my head up so that I could glance down at my own appearance.
"I feel bad seeing your friends in this," I said.
Theo spoke to me in French. I couldn’t understand what he was saying but I could tell he meant for me not to worry about my clothes.
I put my hand on the side of his face after he spoke. "You sound cute when you're French and sleepy."
"Good, because that can happen every morning," he said.
"You want to get up so we can go to Lane and Zoe's?" I asked.
Theo moaned reluctantly as he began to stir.
He stood behind me a few minutes later when we knocked on the door of Lane and Zoe's apartment. Zoe must have been expecting us to show up, because she opened the door within seconds after we knocked.
She and I both said, "Awwww," at the same time—me because she was holding an adorable baby girl on her hip, and her because Theo was holding onto me from behind when she opened the door.
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla drifted out of the apartment as soon as we opened the door, and Theo and I both commented on how great it smelled as we stepped inside. I hugged Zoe and met little Hannah. Zoe sat her down, and she toddled through the living room to be with her dad.
I heard a loud bark coming from the other side of the room, and it startled me. "I didn't know you had a dog," I said, looking around.
"Darlene," Zoe said. "I'll let her out in a minute, I just didn't want her getting all excited when you came in."
"I love dogs," I said.
"Dog," Hannah said, looking at me. She was holding a pacifier, but she put it in her mouth so she could use her hand to point. "Dog."
"Where's the dog?" I asked with an over exaggerated shrug.
Hannah walked to the dog's kennel, which was in the living room. I followed her over there. We had to go close to the kitchen on our way, and Lane turned when he heard us coming.
"Hey!" he said from his spot at the griddle.
"Hey chef," I said. "It smells good in here."
"Dog," Hannah said, slapping her palm to the top of the kennel. She still had a pacifier in her mouth, but I understood her. "Die-yen," she said. "Die-yen."
"Dog?" I asked.
She patted the kennel. "Die-yen."
"Darlene," Lane said, translating.
"Darlene!" I said, causing Hannah to nod at me and smile around her pacifier.
"Can we let her out?" I asked.
Hannah reached out to jiggle the handle, but she didn't know how to get it open.
"You can let her out if you don't mind her spazzing out for a minute," Lane said.
Zoe and Theo had been engaged in their own conversation, but she now came up to us to help with the dog. Zoe picked up Hannah, putting the baby on her hip while (with the other hand) opening Darlene's kennel.
Darlene was a beautiful grey and white bulldog with wrinkles and folds galore, and she ran around the living room, snorting with her mouth open as she greeted all of us. Elroy was long and lean and moved with grace and agility whereas Darlene literally tripped over her own feet a couple of times during her laps around the living room. She was funny, and we all got a good laugh at watching how much she entertained Hannah.