Perry Gilmore was forty-two and lived alone in the Harrington Building beside Central Park.

On the afternoon of July 10th, 2017, Perry stood on his balcony and said his final words aloud. He thanked his late parents and wished everyone a better life. He took the final step to the edge when three red balloons glided straight into his face.

With a tone of annoyance, he tugged the balloon strings out of the way.

It was then he heard her crying — little Jessica, with her mum consoling her — as he looked down toward the park entrance where they stood. It was clear she had once been the owner of those damn balloons!

They were looking up at him, and now all his plans would have to wait. He couldn’t jump in front of the pair watching from below.

He went back inside and belly-flopped onto his couch with a sigh of resignation. The balloons, now drifting around his apartment, came to rest beside him.

“Ah jeez,” he said, as if the balloons had somehow asked him to stir.

He grabbed his keys and headed for the elevators. Once on the street, he could see across the busy road that Jessica was being treated to an ice cream from the candy stand at the gates.

“Hey!” he called, as he approached. The little girl handed the ice cream to her mum and ran.

“Wait! Wait!” her mum yelled.

Before he knew it, Perry had Jessica hugging his legs and shouting, “Balloons! Balloons!” She was literally jumping with joy, her mum in close pursuit.

“Oh, I’m really sorry,” she said breathlessly. “She never normally…”

“Look, Mam! My balloons!” Jessica shouted.

“I’m Perry,” he said, handing the balloons to Jessica.

“I’m Gwen,” she gushed, “and this is Jessica!”

“Jessica — wow! A pretty name too. You have some lovely balloons there,” he said in a soft tone.

“Would you like me to tie them to your sleeve button here, Jessica?” he asked. She nodded.

“So, you two out for a walk today?” he added, to fill the silence while tying the string to Jessica’s jacket sleeve button.

“Yes. It’s Jessica’s dad’s anniversary, and we always stop by the park.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Perry.

“Oh no, don’t,” Gwen started, her hand on her forehead. “He was sick, and… well, we like to remember him.”

Present Day

Perry, now living with Gwen, Jessica, and Marty their dog, was riding the subway. It was July 10th, 2027, and to mark the tenth anniversary of Jessica’s dad, the trio were heading to Central Park — and later, dinner at Gwen’s favourite New York restaurant.

As they strolled through the park, Gwen reminisced about the times she had with Jonathan and how he would always buy ice cream at the end of their walk.

Perry was brought back to the day his life changed. He could hear Jessica talking and was still somewhat aware, but he replayed the events that had led him to Gwen and Jessica as clearly as if it were yesterday.

He smiled faintly to himself, the memory still vivid — the red balloons bumping against his face, the rush of frustration, and then that tiny voice below changing everything. He thought about how close he had come to disappearing that day, how a few seconds of wind and colour had rewritten his entire existence.

“Red balloons!” he interrupted suddenly.

“What?” Gwen giggled.

“Where did you get the red balloons that day?”

“We didn’t have red balloons that day, Perry.”

“Oh no, I’m sure — sure as anything,” he said. “They drifted up to my balcony and into my apartment.”

“No, Perry — you’re confused,” Gwen said gently. “I told you that every anniversary, Jessica and I bring red balloons to Jonathan’s grave. He was a huge Red Sox fan and insisted on buying red balloons for Jessica when they’d go see a game.”

Perry stood gazing at Gwen’s almost knowing expression.

“I’m a Red Sox fan too,” he said softly.

“Do you think he knew?” she smiled.

“Jessica — show Perry your tattoo.”

She peeled back her sleeve to reveal a single red balloon with the word Dad.

“Wow,” said Perry. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing?”