I can’t help but stop across the street from Marcus’s apartment building on my way home. My eyes slip to his window, well trained and familiar with its patterns of light and dark. 

Including that Buddha statue on his windowsill.

My chest swells and I take a step closer to the curb as I visually devour the statue, silhouetted by lamplight sliding through the gap between partially lowered blinds and the windowsill.  It’s our Buddha, the same my Nai-Nai made for me before I left Taiwan and the same I gave to Marcus before he left there too. But why is it here? Marcus always placed him in his window as our own, private signal.

As I stare at Buddha, a thought gathers in my mind and when I turn to walk through Guo Mama’s door, I know exactly how I need to do the window display.  It’s hopeful and meaningful, unexpected, if only to myself.

 I rush upstairs to my bags and pull out my calculus folder and all of Marcus’s notes. I sit on the floor, paper spread around me as I carefully re-fold each note into their original shapes: a 2D heart, a 3D heart, a dog, a bowtie, a crane, a pigeon, frog, flower, and starfish. 

When Guo Mama taps on my door to tell me she’s off to bed, I’m still folding, reading, feeling, falling. I deep dive into memories, letting emotions flow through me. Then, I go downstairs into the dark shop, turn on a lamp, and haul the notes and Guo Mama’s giant jar of fortune cookies to the window. I will have this display done by 8:10 tomorrow morning, even if I have to stay up all night to do it.