It turned out the third girl—her name was Aubrey and she was Australian—had scooped up the loose dog as he had continued his mad dash through the crowd. How appropriate is that, that my little joey had been snagged by an Australian? That girl had a “life of the party” way about her.
And then Daisy had come upon her as Aubrey stood there, not quite sure what to do with her find, and brought her—and darling Max—back to me.
We ordered tea all the way around, and I found out a bit about each of them. Daisy was, indeed, a budding musician who would be playing some of the minor stages at the festival. Aubrey, despite being so outgoing, had something faintly fragile about her, that made me feel concerned about illness. She was involved in some kind of custom painting family business with her brothers. She sounded less than enthused.
I was enjoying visiting with those young women so much I nearly overlooked the fact I was keeping them from their concert, which would be starting momentarily.
I gathered Max, and stood to go. The delight of being in the company of all that vigorous youth had been so lovely I had forgotten the injury to my ankle. But when I stood pain shot through it, and I sank back down with a defeated yelp.
I caught sight of that man, Ralph, on the edge of all those moving people, craning his head, obviously looking for Jessica. He saw her and came to the table, casting a terrible shadow on it.
“I see the dog has been found,” he said tightly, not at all humbled by the fact there was a real dog. He was obviously more than annoyed that his time had been wasted in the search, and that he was about to miss Carlene’s show. “Jessica, let’s go.”
She tilted her chin at him, and I was happy to see a spark of pure fire in those soft, dark eyes.
“Actually, my friend is going to need some help getting home. She’s hurt her ankle.”
I could have protested that I did not need help, but it really seemed far more important to see how this played out.
“We’re missing the concert,” he said.
“Yes, we are,” she returned, calmly.
“These other women can help her.”
“So our enjoyment of the concert is more important than theirs?”
The other two girls sat, wide-eyed, eyes going back and forth, as if they had front row seats at Wimbledon.
Ralph drew in his breath, gave Jessica a withering look and stalked off in the direction of the stadium.
It seemed like all of us had been holding our breath.
“Well,” Aubrey said, breaking the silence. “What an ass.”
And then we were all giggling like schoolgirls. It made me feel a part of things, something I certainly had never felt when I was an actual schoolgirl.
“I can manage,” I said. “Please go enjoy the concert.”
“I don’t see how you can manage, at all,” Aubrey decided. “I’m going to go see if I can flag down one of those golf cart things that are driving around.”
The lady who was running the tea stand came out to collect dishes and I ordered a crumpet for my dear little Max.
The lady brought Max his treat and said, “I’m going to close up now, if you don’t need anything else?”
I looked at her and realized she looked exhausted, and also, of course, I knew exactly what she needed.
She needed to feel like everyone else in the park tonight, as if life could have some happy bits in it, and things to look forward to, not just be a sea of endless drudgery.
“Here,” I told her. “I don’t have any need for this.”
I gave her my ticket for the Carlene concert.
Jessica said, “If you’ve got a friend who can come on short notice, you can have mine, too.”
And then Daisy chimed in, and the waitress was suddenly holding three tickets to Carlene. The weariness evaporated from her face and she stared at the tickets as if they had fallen straight from heaven.
“My kids were dying to go. We live close. They can be here in a blink. These tickets are impossible to get,” she breathed.
“Nothing is impossible,” I told her sternly. She looked hopeful, as the evidence of that very thing was resting in her hand.
Daisy was smiling at me. “I like that. Nothing is impossible.”
“But you could still have gone! I don’t need all three of you to miss the concert!” I told her, but she was watching that waitress, and I could tell she would not have traded anything for the look on that woman’s face. In a world where “self” seems to reign, how had I been lucky enough to run into these three women?
A golf cart came careening down the path, Aubrey in the front with a young man who had on a first aid attendant uniform.
He grabbed a bag, and peeled off my sock and shoe, and poked and prodded at my ankle.
“I think it might be broken,” he said. He took a radio off his belt and, ignoring my protests, ordered an ambulance to meet us at one of the exits.
Even when I insisted, my angels, bless their hearts, refused to leave me, even Aubrey, who still had her ticket.
“What will happen to Max at the emergency room?” Daisy asked, practically. “No, we’ll come and take turns staying outside with him until you’re released.”
And so, we all ended up in the golf cart, though it hilariously overloaded it.
Aubrey said, “I feel as if I’m in a carload of clowns heading for the center ring,” and we all laughed, and despite my ankle throbbing, that golf cart ride through Faelledparken felt very spontaneous and joyous. There was an ambulance waiting at the exit, manned by two swoonworthy Danish men. Jessica came in the
