Alice had no internet at home, so every morning at 10 she walked to the public library to check her email. Stephanie hadn’t written yet. 

Two weeks ago, when Alice wrote Stephanie to ask if they might move in together, it took her over an hour to compose the email. She labored over it. She thought Stephanie would be thrilled with the offer, but she suspected Stephanie might have certain natural worries about how exactly everything should proceed. Alice knew Stephanie was already comfortably living in her apartment across town, and there was the matter of their long-absent acquaintance with each other. 

Alice had typed the email very carefully. She wrote that she was happy they hadn’t tried to move into any serious relationship territory in college because they both had so much to learn. She wrote how thrilled she was that they had met again now, after they each had had time to experience the world on their own terms and had finally realized what they needed all along in life. Alice wrote she was happy for them to live in her apartment, or, should Stephanie prefer it, Alice could move in with her to the uptown loft where Stephanie currently lived. That was near the print shop print shop where Alice ran into her last month.

After Alice talked with her at the print shop, she wrote her email address down on a piece of paper and gave it to Stephanie. Alice thought Stephanie must have been in a hurry, because she took the paper from Alice rather quickly, with an air of distraction, and then hurried out of the print shop. Alice finished her copies and, on her way out the door, she glanced down at the floor and saw Stephanie had dropped her business card in her haste. Alice picked it up and slowly traced her finger across Stephanie’s name. She also passed her eyes along the contact information. She saw Stephanie’s email address and smiled.

Alice looked up from her thoughts. There was a lock click on the library’s front door. The custodian who opened the doors smiled at Alice in a somewhat bored manner and went back into the building. Alice followed him.

Alice found her regular computer in the front row, the third one down. She flicked on the power button and waited while the machine hummed itself awake. Alice quickly typed in her password, and the inbox hovered to life in front of her.

Her smile dimmed a bit. Stephanie hadn’t written. Alice took a deep breath and gave a little shrug. This was rather like her, Alice thought. Hadn’t she been like this in college? Cautious and somewhat coquettish? Alice smiled. Perhaps this was a little game Stephanie was playing.

Alice glanced over at the computer next to her. Odd. The computer screen was on. Usually they were switched off in the morning before the doors opened. A screensaver image of a flower slowly floated across the screen. Alice looked around. No one else was using the computers. Why was this one on? She stood up to leave, and, as she was standing, her leg bumped the table and caused the mouse next to the neighboring computer to jostle. The screensaver disappeared and she saw a familiar email screen. It was the same email service as Alice’s. 

Alice noticed there was an email from today which hadn’t yet been opened. She didn’t want to pry or anything, but it was impossible not also to notice that the email was addressed to someone named Peter and that it came from someone named Sylvia. She frowned a bit. This Peter must not be too careful, Alice thought. He must have changed his email settings to not require a password. Anybody could walk by and read the emails. 

Not right, thought Alice. Not proper behavior. She reached forward and switched off her computer. She stood up and left the computer next to her as she had found it, with the email screen on and the Peter/Sylvia email yet unread and waiting.

When she got back up to her apartment the light on her telephone was flashing. She groaned silently. It would be from her mother. She walked over and pressed the message button on the phone. There was a moment of crackle and then her mother’s voice began to speak.

“Hello, Alice,” her mother’s voice said. “I’m not sure where you are. I was wondering if you might be free for dinner tonight? It’s been a few weeks since I saw you. I had a few questions about what Doctor Avery said…” Click. Alice pushed the delete button. The red light disappeared. She stared down at the phone for a few moments, feeling a tinge of anger pulsing in a vein in her temple. 

Stephanie would write tomorrow. Alice felt sure.

*     *     *

But tomorrow there was no response. Alice received a spam email from a hardware company and a reminder from her mother that Alice had not answered her email or her phone call from yesterday. Her mother was pestering her about the doctor again. Alice frowned as she ignored the spam and deleted her mother’s email. 

She glanced over at the computer next to her on the right, the one which hadn’t been turned off yesterday. The screensaver flower drifted across the screen slowly. It must have stayed on through the night. Alice noticed there was no chair in front of the computer, and she realized that must be why no one had used the computer during the last day. Alice was curious. She looked around. No one was nearby. She reached over and nudged the neighboring mouse and the same email page appeared with the same unopened email for Peter from someone named Sylvia.

Alice glanced around her. The library was humming with the light quiet buzz of many people going about their business. Nobody was looking at Alice. She stood up quietly and slowly, and she picked up her chair to move it in front of the computer on the right. After one more look around, she sat down in front of the new computer. 

The highlighted email, the one which hadn’t been opened yet, was glowing near the top of the screen. She could see from the preview text what was written at the beginning of the email. It said, “Peter, my sweet love…” Alice couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t know this Sylvia, but something about her seemed quite fetching.

Alice cautiously leaned forward, and she let her hand waver for a moment in the air above the mouse. She dropped her hand down and curled it around the mouse on its soft pad. For a moment, she hovered the cursor over the highlighted email on the screen, and then she pressed the button to open the email. 

It said,

“Peter, my sweet love,

I have been ever so desperate to hear from you. It is really not right that you should make me wait so long. I only remind you because you yourself told me to write if you did not respond by Tuesday. Well, here it is, now Tuesday come and gone, and I certainly don’t know what to do or what to think. 

I spend all my days and every hour of them in a frightful twist. I’ve worn such a path in my rug with pacing, and all I can do is turn and fret with nowhere to go and nothing to do for fear that you might not have liked my proposal of Bermuda.  I’m sure you know this, you fine specimen. Dearest, of course we don’t HAVE to go, but Daddy’s made the resort available for the whole week, and we’ll never get another chance now that you’ve received your promotion.

Darling, if you could only just send me a short note then I would know that everything was fine. Until you do I shall be waiting with bated breath, and you must know that your dear anxious girl is desperate for your quick assurance…waits for your every beautiful word. 

Love, Sylvia”

Alice read the email twice and then she closed her eyes and pictured Sylvia. She imagined her as she must have looked, writing this email. How she must have agonized over it. And then, just for fun, Alice pictured herself as Peter. 

They sat next to each other on the Bermuda plane. At the moment the plane took off into the air a slight bit of turbulence shuddered through the plane and Sylvia hid her face in Alice’s shoulder. Alice lifted her hand and softly stroked Sylvia’s hair. Her black hair.

Alice opened her eyes. She was smiling deeply. She slowly glanced around the library again. No one was watching. 

She leaned forward and typed,

“My dearest Sylvia, please forgive me. The thought that I have left you so stranded with your thoughts devastates me. 

Let me risk offending you by asking whether you would allow me to deliver the news to you in person? Since we have already been apart for these many days perhaps a few more hours won’t matter. 

Would you consent to meet me tomorrow night?

Let me propose a new destination…I spied it out the other day on my morning walk. I pictured you as I walked, and I imagined where we might one day stroll together. I know it might seem to you a childish fancy, but I found a place for us to meet. Will you meet me tomorrow? I know the place.

The park on 6th street, by the main entrance. There is a promenade which crosses through the park gardens, filled on all sides with flowers. 

We could walk through those flowers. Near the center of the garden is a rose bush. It is nestled down among the many other fronds, and I know not many people have seen it themselves. I like to think of this rose bush as our special collection of flowers. I mean to take one of those roses from that bush and place it, plucked clean of thorns, behind your ear. 

Then, on the far side of the park, there is a koi pond with a man who rents boats. Perhaps we could continue our time together by floating under the perfect, star-filled sky with the stars all reflected around us on the water and, yes, reflected as well in the deep pools of your eyes.

“This is how I am picturing us together. Dare I tell you…I will…I am picturing it now as I write these words, and my heart is aching that it must wait even one more day to see you again. But, surely, the words of the poet ring so true as all informed truth does: ‘Absence makes the heart…’ Well, you know the rest.

So, let me wait for you tomorrow at the park entrance. Please be there. And, as a way to fulfill my childish fancy would you consent to wear a red scarf? Red, after all, is the color of deepest passion. 

Will you meet me so? Will you come at eight?  I know that I will be there. 

Yours, Peter.”

She sat back and reread the email in one go. Then, with a smile, she clicked the button and sent the email to Sylvia. She carefully moved the chair away so the computer would remain undisturbed.

*     *     *

Alice awoke with a deep glow of pleasure on her face. She slowly curled herself out of bed. She spent some time at her window, looking down at the street below, watching the many cars moving this way and that seemed to play a merry tune of sorts in their dancing movement to and fro.

She dressed, choosing her one red dress from the back of the closet. Her mother had insisted on buying it for her, but she had never worn it before. She had never had need of it or occasion for it, until now. 

As she was dressing the telephone rang. She thought about it, then decided and walked over to pick it up.

“Alice?” her mother said.

“Hello, mother,” she said.

”Oh, Alice, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I was worried. Didn’t you get my other message?”

“Yes, mother.” 

Her mother continued speaking. ”Well, you gave me a fright, not answering me. And I wrote to you as well. Did you read that? It’s about Doctor Avery. She had several thoughts and a good many suggestions, but I suppose the main thing is she wants you to switch what you’re currently taking...”

She walked back over to the telephone cradle and hung it up, cutting her mother off mid-sentence.

Alice left her apartment and walked to the library and was delighted to find a new email waiting on the undisturbed computer. She glanced around the library again, and then she moved the chair back in front of the computer and sat down. She grabbed the mouse and opened the email. It said,

“Peter, darling, 

You are a mischievous one, aren’t you? Yes, of course I’ll meet you. I’ll be there promptly at eight. And I do believe I could scare up a red scarf just for you. 

Love,

Sylvia.”

Once again, she reread the email carefully. She smiled softly to himself. She stood. But, as she was preparing to leave, she glanced back down at the third computer, the one she usually used.

She sat down and switched it on. The screen warmed itself and soon the familiar box of her own email was hovering before her again. 

She stared at the screen, not quite believing it. There was a new email, and it was from Stephanie.

She grabbed the mouse and quickly clicked open the email. It said,

“Hello, Alice,

I was very surprised by your email. 

This is difficult to write, but I think you have misunderstood some things. I feel so sorry, but I cannot agree to your invitation. 

I know this must be disappointing. You seemed very lonely when we spoke at the print shop. I feel you need someone to talk to, but I cannot be that person for you now. 

Please take care of yourself.

Stephanie.”

Alice frowned as she read through the email. There was so much Stephanie didn’t understand, and Alice could see this from the awkward tone and confusing manner and obvious crudeness with which this email had been written. Alice could even imagine Stephanie typing it, haltingly and with awkward pecks.

Alice moved back over to the fourth computer and read through Sylvia’s email again. She lingered thoughtfully over the final words, “I’ll be there promptly at eight. Thank you, dearest. Love, Sylvia.”

After the library Alice went back to her block and sat in her apartment to wait. The sun was dropping lower in the sky, and Alice glanced at her watch. It was just after seven thirty. Where was Sylvia now, she wondered? Surely, she was on her way to the park. Surely, she would be there soon. 

The phone rang. Alice ignored it, stood up, and walked out the door.

She stole across fifth street and walked quickly up sixth until she reached the corner of the park which was nearly empty. There were just a few people walking in and out of the flower gardens within. Alice walked up to the main entrance of the park, looked around, and, satisfied, she moved across the street and sat down on the bench on the other side. From here she could see the entrance clearly, and she looked again at her watch. It was quarter to eight. 

From where she was sitting she could see people come and going through the main entrance of the park. Then, after a period, there was no one. Finally a bus stopped on the corner. A young woman got out, and she came walking up the sidewalk toward the park entrance. Alice followed her carefully with her eyes. As the young woman came closer Alice could see quite clearly. She was wearing a red scarf.

Alice stood from the bench. She watched Sylvia come closer until she reached the entrance. Sylvia looked up and down the street, but Alice stepped behind a tree so she could peer around it toward Sylvia, unseen. Sylvia kept nervously adjusting her blouse and flicking her fingers through her hair which was loose and flowing.

Alice continued to watch as Sylvia kept looking up and down the street. She was growing anxious. Once or twice she looked into the park, and finally, she looked up the street one last time and then turned and entered the park.

Alice moved out from behind the tree. She cautiously crossed the street. By the time she reached the park’s entrance she could see Sylvia walking down through the park, past the rows of flowers in the flower garden. Alice quickly moved into the park and followed her.

Alice cut across several rows of flowers so that she could see Sylvia moving from the side. When Sylvia reached the center of the garden Alice saw her begin to hunt around among the various bushes. Then she stopped moving and stared. Alice knew Sylvia had found the rose bush.

Alice slowly walked toward Sylvia. Sylvia was standing with her back to her, looking out at the koi pond. Alice silently moved up behind her until she was just a foot from her back. Carefully Alice reached down and plucked two roses. She put one of them behind her own ear. She could feel the thorn cut her and a drop of warm blood rolled down her cheek. Then she reached forward, and softly passed her hand through Sylvia’s black hair.

Sylvia immediately turned. 

“Hello, Sylvia,” Alice said as she held up the second rose.

Zary Fekete has been featured in various publications including NonBinary Review, Bag of Bones Press, and Mangoprism, has a debut chapbook of short stories out from Alien Buddha Press and a novelette, In the Beginning, coming out in May 2023 from ELJ Publications.