@dotarcher
Jude hadn’t seen or heard about the rather controversial Dorothy Archer in years. He remembered hearing the rumors, that she was gifted, that her family disowned her. It surprised no one that they would do so, considering her father, but even then Jude felt a sort of pity for her. He couldn’t imagine losing all that he had, his family, the money. He wouldn’t know how to survive.
His pity did not extend far, they were never close and so when it happened, he considered the situation a distant, half-real thing. Had he seen her in public he might have offered her a smile, perhaps made small talk, but he certainly wouldn’t get close to her. He had no reason to step on her father’s toes, it would only bring him trouble.
But that was then and now, Jude was the same as her. He was not disowned but he was gifted and so where before his pity was an apathetic, distant and cruel thing now it was more genuine. She rarely crossed his mind but even so, when seeing her sitting in a car (a far cry from the cars she must have been used to once), he recognized her instantly.
“Dot!” He called, grinning and waving at her as he made his way down the steps of the pottery studio he’d paid a visit to and over to the street. He bent down and leaned into the window on the passenger’s side. “I thought I recognized you. What are you doing. . . .” Here, in that car, in those clothes, but he stopped himself. He knew the answer. “Do you have time to grab lunch? It’s on me.”