chest until I stood in the middle of my bedroom twenty minutes later, blood pumping, chest heaving, hair a tangled halo around me, and a feeling of lightness I’d never had before.
Two months later
“Hello, Alice!” Mrs. Wong called from her balcony two doors down.
“Hello, Mrs. Wong. Your lights are looking nice and cheerful.”
“Mr. Wong says they’re tacky but I’m ignoring him.” She pulled a face, making me laugh. Her holiday lights were, indeed, a bit over the top, but they conjured a festive feeling perfect for the season.
She pointed to the giant mum I was watering on my balcony. “Remember, no more than three times a week or you’ll drown it.”
“I remember,” I assured her. Having grown up with an allergy to flowers, I’d never had to care for any, which was how I’d met my neighbor in the first place. She’d seen me carrying a mum inside and stopped to chat, her manner boisterous and her sense of personal space practically nonexistent. I’d normally have nodded politely and excused myself at the first opportunity, but that day I’d stayed to chat instead and made a new friend as a result.
I’d acquired the giant mound of yellow flowers at the autumn festival I’d attended with Sadie and Carl. Exercising my newfound spontaneity, I’d buried my nose in one of the potted mums for sale, fully expecting to pay for it with a sneezing attack. But to my surprise, I had no reaction whatsoever. Either I’d outgrown my allergy or perhaps was only sensitive to certain flowers and never knew it. I took it as a sign and bought two of the enormous plants on the spot. Six weeks later and I’d managed not to kill them—due mostly to Mrs. Wong’s advice.
In addition to my foray into gardening—if two plants even qualified as such—I was also taking a martial arts course. I’d walked by the studio bearing a sign offering three free lessons a dozen times before, as it was right next to the market where I shopped, but I’d never once given it a second thought. That changed one day last month as I pushed my trolly toward the market and stopped to look in the studio’s window. A class was in session with rows of children lined up in their white uniforms practicing some manner of kicking with one another. Not giving myself a chance to chicken out, I abandoned my trolly and walked into the studio where I registered for my three free lessons. Three turned into a four-day-a-week habit of attending classes and learning to center parts of myself. I’d be testing for my yellow belt next month.
But those weren’t the only changes to what I called “the old Alice.” I learned how to style my hair into wavy curls and wore it down most days now, finding it suited me better. I also traded out some of my sweater sets and pencil skirts for more playful outfits boasting some brighter colors and even a few patterns. The compliments I received at work encouraged me to continue exploring new styles, and I even made a trip to the optician for contact lenses, though I still wore my glasses the majority of the time.
Sadie liked to tease me and even christened me with the nickname Foxy, but all I had to do was bring up her new love interest and she quieted down in a flash—especially around Carl who would likely never approve of anyone his daughter chose to date.
Rebuilding efforts back home continued, and while it often felt like things were progressing at a snail’s pace, the results of all the hard work were beginning to show. Word from Ruby and Leo indicated that Malcolm had thrown himself into the process wholeheartedly and spoke excitedly of new public plans for the country when restoration efforts finished. All signs pointed to a progressive and thoughtful reign when he eventually took the throne.
Tilly and Zaz had flown in to celebrate my first American Thanksgiving, and we’d had a wonderful time cooking up a storm, shopping, and exploring some beautiful hiking trails in the area. We also spent quite a bit of time reminiscing and laughing over old memories, and I was reminded not all things had been bad in those years growing up together.
“I’ll come by later and drop off some of my extra lights. Your balcony needs more color.” Mrs. Wong pointed at me and smiled before walking back into her flat. She was right. It was time