A stand with brightly painted wooden bowls is just on the other side of the aisle, so I step over to it while I wait for the ladies to get their food.
The colors on all the pieces are amazing, but my fingers trace over the surface of one bowl that’s been painted to look like intertwined stained-glass stars.
I pick it up, turning it around slowly, taking in the blues and golds.
There is literally no reason I need this hand-painted serving bowl, but I still flip it over to check the price written on the sticker on the bottom.
I nearly put it back, the price being higher than I’d usually allow myself to spend on something like this, but then I remember the eighty thousand dollars that just got added to my bank account and decide fuck it.
“I’d like this one, please,” I tell the woman behind the display, handing her the bowl and my debit card.
Dominic broke off from us a little while ago to wander with one of his uncles. He didn’t really give a reason why they couldn’t just walk with us, but his mom’s need to stop and look at every single ornament probably had something to do with it.
The woman wraps the bowl in brown paper, then slides it into a plain white bag.
I thank her and tuck my card back into my wallet, then hold the bag in one hand and my purse in the other.
My feet turn me the wrong way at first, and I only notice when I don’t see the pretzel stand, so I stop and turn back the other way. Except when I spot the pretzels, I don’t see Bibi.
Excusing myself as I bump into someone, I walk past the stand. But they aren’t there.
I spin around.
Maybe they went to find me.
But I didn’t see them walking over here.
I take a few steps.
What if I’m going the wrong way?
I stop.
They didn’t leave.
I say it to myself again.
They didn’t leave.
I spin around again. I can’t see them.
Stay calm. It’s okay.
Facing away from the pretzel stand, I start to walk.
The market is only so big.
They couldn’t have gone far.
Dominic is here somewhere.
Dominic has a hundred men here.
Except I don’t recognize anyone.
I try to walk quicker, but it’s still so crowded.
Breathe.
I stop again, and someone bumps into me from behind.
“Sorry,” I mumble as I open my little purse.
I’ll just text Dom, tell him to find me.
But I don’t see my phone.
I yank my mittens off and tuck them under my arm. With bare hands, I dig through the contents of my purse, but I can already see that there’s no phone.
I close my eyes as I try to think of where I left it. Then I remember Dominic taking it out of my hand when I was looking at the money he sent.
I don’t have a phone.
I’m separated, and I don’t have a phone.
Panic slithers through my brittle defenses, and I spin around again.
Where is everyone?
Angling my body, I weave through more people until I get to one of the intersections, where the paths of Christmas fun spread out in all four directions.
There are so many people, but none of them are familiar.
It’s okay. You’re just lost. Not left.
My chest starts to hurt.
Where is Dominic?
My vision starts to get blurry, and I blink.
Just breathe.
I try to. I try to pull in an even breath. But…
I try again.
Panic is winning.
I need to find Dominic.
I whirl around again, deciding to pick a new direction. But I’m too distracted, and my foot catches on something, stopping its motion while the rest of my body continues forward.
I trip over the front wheel of a baby stroller. And there’s enough time for me to let out a little shriek as my hands stretch out, and I catch myself on the rough gravel with my palms.
The sting of sharp rocks meeting skin is instant and causes me to lose my battle against the tears.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” A woman crouches down next to me. “I’m so sorry.” She apologizes, even though we both know I was at fault.
She grabs my arm, helping me up. “Are you alright?”
I nod, using the backs of my hands to wipe at my cheeks. “I’m okay.”
The words sound anything but, but I don’t have it in me to explain that my crying has nothing to do with falling. So I hurry away.
It only takes a few steps to notice that my knee is aching. I must’ve landed on that hard, too.
I wipe at my cheeks again and blink. But still, none of the faces around me are familiar.
My lower lip trembles with the urge to yell Dominic’s name. If I focused on taking a breath, I could probably yell it pretty loud.