good to see you

july 6, 2026

Ellen was picking paint samples on a Saturday, and the trip out had already gone long. She’d sat too long over coffee, then remembered she’d forgotten the measurements, then had to go back inside for them. By the time she got to the aisle it was 10:30 and the store was full of Saturday people.

She wanted a color for the powder room. Something that wouldn’t fight the tile. She’d been telling herself she’d repaint since March, and it was July now, and today was the day she was going to at least start. She pulled swatches of the pale greens off the display. Silver Fir. Sage Honey. Mineral. She held them under the fluorescent and knew none of them were right and put them back and pulled three others.

“Ellen.”

She turned around.

Renee was smiling at her with a cart. She had a bag of grout in the cart, and one of those long extension poles, and a paint stir stick sticking up like an antenna. Her hair was shorter than the last time Ellen had seen her, cut to her chin, more gray in it than Ellen remembered. She was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and a nylon jacket. She looked well.

“Oh my god,” Ellen said. “Renee.”

“I thought that was you.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good,” Renee said. She glanced down at the swatches in Ellen’s hand. “Painting?”

“The powder room. I’ve been putting it off forever.”

“Green is nice in there. I did our downstairs in a green a few years ago and I still like it.”

“I’m trying to pick something that doesn’t fight the tile.”

“What’s the tile?”

“White subway. Boring, I know.”

“That’s not boring, that’s just the tile. Anything works with subway.”

Ellen laughed, small, and heard herself laugh. Renee was smiling in the ordinary way people smile at someone they used to know. Nothing in her face was reading anything into the encounter. It was just an encounter.

“What about you?” Ellen said. “What are you working on?”

“Regrouting the master bath. It’s been leaking into the ceiling downstairs for I don’t know how long, and Sam finally noticed the crack, and now we’re taking the whole thing apart. It’s a project.”

“That sounds like a lot.”

“It’s a lot. I don’t know why I didn’t just call somebody, honestly. Sometimes I want to do the thing myself, and then I’m two weekends in and I remember why I don’t do the thing myself.” She laughed at herself.

“You always liked projects.”

“I really do. It’s a problem.” Renee shifted her weight. “How’s Wren and Alder?”

Ellen looked at her for a second. “They’re, you know. It’s fine. Same people, same clients. Jonah left last year, went in-house at Vera. Chelsea’s still there. She had a baby.”

“Oh, tell her congratulations for me.”

“I will.”

“I mean, if it’s not weird. She can probably do without me showing up in her Saturday.”

“It’s not weird. I’ll tell her.”

There was a small pause. Ellen realized she should ask what Renee was doing, and asked.

“I’ve been freelancing. Mostly nonprofits. I do a lot of the Reservoir Housing communications now, which is honestly a better fit for me. I don’t miss the bank.”

“I heard about the bank stuff.”

“Oh, that whole thing,” Renee said. “Yeah, that was a rough couple of months. It took me a while to feel like I could show my face anywhere. But you know what, I think it was good in a way. I don’t think I would have left on my own, and I needed to leave. I was doing that thing where you get resentful and then you’re just a resentful person and everyone can tell. This is better.”

“I’m glad,” Ellen said.

“It was a hard year. But we made it through. And Sam has been unbelievable. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

“That’s good, Renee. I’m really glad.”

“How’s Michael?”

“He’s good. He’s traveling this week. Portland.”

“For the thing?”

“The healthcare account, yeah. Same thing.”

“Tell him I said hi.”

“I will.”

Renee looked at her a moment longer. “It’s really good to see you, Ellen. It really is.”

“You too.”

“Come by sometime. I mean it. Sam would love to see you both.”

“I’d like that. I’ll text you.”

“Okay.” Renee started to move her cart. “Good luck with the powder room.”

“Good luck with the grout.”

She watched Renee move down the aisle. Renee lifted a hand, over her shoulder, without looking back. Ellen lifted hers.

She turned back to the display. The swatches in her hand were the same three she’d already rejected. She put them back and picked up two others and looked at them without seeing them and put them back and pulled the same first three off the wall again. Silver Fir. Sage Honey. Mineral. She stood there holding them.

After a minute she took Silver Fir and dropped Sage Honey and Mineral back in the display and walked to the front. She didn’t remember what else she’d come for. She’d had a list.

In the parking lot she sat in the car with the sample in her lap and did not turn the key. The parking lot was very bright. A man three cars over was loading two-by-fours into the bed of a truck and the wood knocked against the metal each time.

She thought about the drive she was about to take home, and the house, and the powder room, and the ladder she still needed to bring up from the basement. She thought about what she’d tell Michael when he asked how her Saturday was, and knew she would say she’d run errands.

Renee had said it’s really good to see you. And Ellen had said you too, and she had meant it, and that was the thing. She had meant it. That was the thing she was going to have to carry.

She started the car.