Pieces of Me

Word of the Day Monday, January 18, 2010

accord

1.
To be in agreement or harmony; agree.

transitive verb:
1. To cause to conform or agree; bring into harmony.
2. To grant; bestow.

noun:
1. Agreement; harmony.
2. A settlement or compromise of conflicting opinions.
3. A settlement of points at issue between nations.

Elliot kicked the acorn up the sidewalk aiming it over towards Leonard's general side of the sidewalk. She felt so clumsy and secretly hoped she wouldn't kick and miss the acorn each time it was her turn to kick.

"So, what would you rather be doing than working at The Office?" Leonard asked. They had started spending their lunch breaks kicking an acorn around the block about a month prior when the snow had finally melted off and spring had finally seemed to take hold.

"God. Anything. Well, almost anything. I don't think being a janitor for The Office would be any better. You know, with Loretta and her monster work twosies and all," she replied immediately.

He smiled, "That's not really what I meant. I mean, if you could do anything, in the whole world, what would it be? What would be your dream job?" he asked effortlessly tapping the acorn ahead of them.

"Hmm," Elliot said trying to cover the panic she felt. She hated questions like that. The type of questions that actually required her to share a part of herself. She got all caught up in over-thinking the whole thing. What if he laughed at her? What if he thought she was completely ridiculous? What if she opened up and told him the true answer to his question and she lost that little part of herself forever?

"I don't know," she replied lamely. He stopped and turned toward her, "You don't know what your dream job would be??" he asked incredulously, "Wow, that is all I think about while I'm at work."

"Well, what is your dream job then?" she asked, secretly relieved to have dodged his question even with the mocking. "I'll tell you, but you still have to tell me yours," he said smiling.

She loved to see his smile, his face split in two with joy. "Ok," she agreed only half believing that she would actually tell him.

He took a deep breath. "I want to go to Africa," he said solemnly. Elliot immediately thought of the opening scene of The Lion King and that large, omnipresent sun rising majestically from the horizon, so intense that heat waves radiated through the air, and though the whole idea was perfect. Perfectly Leonard.

"You think it is dumb, right? That I don't even have a real plan?" he said his face falling slightly. "No!" she said immediately, "No, not at all. I can't think of a more perfect place for you to be," she said sincerely and seriously, meeting his eye. His doubtful eyes broke into a smile again, "Really?" he asked sounding so vulnerable that all Elliot could do is nod because she was afraid she'd get a frog in her throat.

"I know it is kind of weird. But it means a lot to hear that. From you," he said. She smiled and turned toward the acorn again, giving it a little kick. "But I guess it isn't that weird. I mean, you are my best friend and all," he added. "I'm your best friend?" she asked, stopping in mid-kick. "According to me, yes, you are my best friend," he said, "Is that alright with you?"

She looked down at the acorn again and then back up at Leonard. "My dream job is to paint. Paint huge building sized canvases. To paint an entire city. In bright, livid colors," she blurted out not even expecting that to have been her response.

He bent over and scooped up the acorn from the sidewalk and put it in his pants pocket, and smiled, "I knew it," he replied. She looked at him quizzically, his bizarre response getting her to finally look up at his face. "I always knew you were like this cottage, and from the outside you can just see a little wisp of smoke coming out of the chimney, but if you are brave enough to knock on the door and ask to be let in, that there would be a warm, raging fire waiting inside," he said.

Astonishingly, she had never anticipated that she would actually want him to keep the little piece of herself that she had reluctantly offered for display. Yet here she was.