Office Cubicles

"You're from the Portsmouth office, right?"

"That's right," Kate said. "I'm legal staff on the Synchular Audit."

Kate had been invited to lunch by one of the locals, Stan Hoffman, an admin who had been taking care of the audit team. They were joined by Ann Janeway, an engineer who was introduced simply as Stan's friend. Ann looked every bit the former high school cheerleader and straight-A student that she'd been just ten years ago; pretty in a very precise way, but not quite beautiful. Stan had a look that seemed loose and casual until you took a closer look at the way above his pay grade drip. Or noticed the eye liner, which had been so expertly applied that Kate hadn't noticed it until she took a second look.

"I know Portsmouth's a big office," Stan said, "but did you happen to know a Jim Mahoney? Project Manager? I mean, I don't know how much Legal interacts with IT but maybe you would've run into him."

"Really good guy," Ann said. "Great manager. You know, the whole Leader of Men package. People just gravitate to him. A visionary with the communication skills to make it easy to understand where we’re going and how we’re going to get there.” She paused. "He has this way of telling a bad joke that makes it just seem hilarious."

“Girl, I think your crush is showing,” Stan said. 

Ann scowled at Stan, biting off her words. “More importantly, he got us out of cubicles.”

“Cubicles. Why is that a big deal?” Kate asked. 

With a theatrical gesture, Stan said, “The metaphor!”

"The metaphor?" Kate asked.

"Seriously?" Stan said. "We live in a world of rectangles! Just look around. The architecture of this building has all the grace and charm of a prison. And the cubicles were our cells."

"Nobody wants to feel like an interchangeable part. People need to feel like they're one in a million; not one of a million," Ann said.

That sounds just like something James would say, Kate thought. One in a million, not one of a million. She could almost hear him saying it. At first she had thought it was just a line from some New York Times best-seller that James had copped but over the time she had known him, she began to believe that he actually believed these seeming aphorisms. She had judged him unkindly at the time, thinking he was naive and uneducated in the native cruelty of the world around them. It was a reality she feared he would learn the hard way; a lesson, Kate realized, where she had been the teacher. 

“The open space floor plan was something we didn't even know we needed," Kate continued. "Even better was the implementation. Every team designed their own space.”

Kate nodded. “I’ve read about companies adopting open workspace models, but I haven't seen any definitive studies on it. Is it working?” Kate asked. 

Ann nodded vigorously. “Totally transformed the team dynamics. Rolled out pair programming as a best practice. We've cut our delivery time in half."

"Don't forget the fun stuff," Stan said. "Payday Matinee."

"Payday Matinee?" Kate asked, suspecting she knew something about what she was about to hear.

"Jim arranged for a movie with popcorn and soft drinks on payday Fridays," Ann said. "Right here in the cafeteria, using the AV set up for the projector. Mostly old movies. Black and white stuff."

"You mean, like, King Kong?" Kate asked.

"Yeah, if you mean the original, but he hasn't done that one, yet. We just watched Casablanca. And we've seen The Day The Earth Stood Still, Bringing Up Baby. Just off the top of my head," Stan said. "There's one I'm not remembering…"

"The Philadelphia Story," Ann said.

"The Philadelphia Story," Stan said. "Maybe he's got a thing for Cary Grant," he added wistfully.

"Maybe Katherine Helpburn?" Ann suggested. "Jim stays after for anyone who wants to talk about the movie. It's kind of become a thing," she said.

"A thing?" Kate asked.

"And he cooks," Stan said.

"Oh!" Ann practically sighed in ecstasy. "The chicken marsala at the Christmas potluck!" she said. "Oh. My. God."

"And if that wasn't enough, kids love him," Stan said.

"The work he did on Take Your Kids To Work Day was incredible," Ann added. "He met with local educators and created a series of activities designed to get kids interested in the STEM disciplines. He even led a couple of the workshops on quantum computing dressed up like Dr. Strange, you know, from the multiverse, and the kids just loved him."

"You could practically hear the panties dropping all over the office," Stan said.

Ann gave a dark look but couldn't stop from smiling. "Anyway. He wrote up a white paper that’s already being looked at as the model for other offices to use next year."

Kate hesitated. She had hoped to find out how James was doing during the audit trip, but this wasn't at all what she had expected; or, if she was being honest, had hoped. "I think there was a James Mahoney I knew of in the Portsmouth office. James, Jim. I'm pretty sure I saw him do a presentation at one of the Town Halls. Told a really terrible joke as an ice-breaker. Sounds like it could be the same guy."

"Three engineers walk into a non-binary bar?" Ann asked.

"That's the one," Kate said.

"Okay," Stan said. 

"Right," Ann said.

"So," Stan said, "as we were saying, Jim is a great guy, and we love him.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Ann said. 

“And we care about him," Stan added.

Ann nodded as Stan paused. 

“The thing is, there’s a sadness to Jim," Stan said. 

"You can only see it when he doesn’t think you’re looking," Ann added.

Stan continued, "Anyway, he's been here for almost a year now and sure he's no Cary Grant but he isn’t exactly hard on the eyes, either. You could even say he's been the office's most eligible bachelor since that Christmas potluck."

"He has dated a few women,” Ann said. 

"And you know this because?" Kate couldn't help asking.

“There are only so many restaurants in town,” Stan said.

"Only so many Italian restaurants in town," Ann corrected. 

Stan nodded. "Our boy definitely has a type, doesn't he? Only so many Italian restaurants in town," he said and smiled a sly smile. “And people like me will talk.”

Ann seemed deep in thought. "It is odd, isn't it? The Italian thing with Jim. I mean, Mahoney sounds more like shepherd's pie than chicken marsala."

Knowing but not wanting Ann and Stan to know she knew, Kate said, "Maybe he's Italian on his mother's side of the family."

"That's what I've been thinking!" Stan said.

Still deep in her feelings, Ann continued. "He hasn't had what you'd call a relationship," Ann said, ruefully. "Or even so much as a second date, for that matter." Looking at Stan, she added. "According to my sources, anyway."

"You're going to find your Prince someday, Miss Frog," Stan said with a grin.

"And you're going to find your Prince someday, too, Miss Bitch," Ann said with a laugh.

"Anyway," Stan said, "there are two competing theories regarding our Prince in waiting. One, he's gay -"

"He's not gay," Ann interrupted.

"And he's not even out to himself, Little Miss Wishful Thinking," Stan said, completing the thought behind the theory that was just as much a bit of wishful thinking on his part. 

"Or," Ann said, "a woman broke his heart. Back in the Portsmouth office. Broke it bad. Like a million little pieces bad. Like a Taylor Swift song bad. And he came here to forget her, but for some reason he can't, and he still isn't over her.” She turned to Stan. “Yet. And just because it's wishful thinking doesn't mean it isn't true."

"I suppose you're right about that. A man can dream," Stan noted wistfully.  "So," he said. "Do you know what happened with Jim in the Portsmouth office?"

"Oh no. There he is," Ann said, lowering her voice. "Look at that - I was going to say 'that outfit' - but really, they're just… clothes," Ann whispered. "There is no way that man is gay."

"Not every gay man has a fashion sense," Stan hissed, then looked over at James. "Oh no, not that mustard and green plaid sports coat. He must wear that thing at least twice a week. And with a striped shirt."

Kate watched as - much to her surprise - James worked the room. She realized she had never seen him actually doing his job and she was taken aback by James' apparent ease. She had always thought of him as an introvert; shy and awkward. Well, that wasn't always any more. She realized then that when she remembered James, it wasn't as the endearing goofball who couldn't pronounce "quinoa" properly. All she had now was that sadness Ann and Stan had mentioned, and his anger. The ending of their relationship had left an indelible stamp on its memories, casting an impenetrable shadow over the good times they'd had. When she thought of him, even if she started by thinking of the first time they met, the first time they kissed, the first time they made love, this was where she always wound up. 

His anger. 

Her guilt. 

James had moved from one table to another. The four people at the table all seemed very happy to see him. James engaged each one of them in turn. He pretended he was casting a fishing line, then pointed to one of the men at the table. Everyone laughed. Has James finally found people who think he's funny? She wondered. James' self-declared and somewhat esoteric sense of humor had become a punchline of its own among his friends and family in New Hampshire. Maybe it's a Midwest versus New England thing…

"He's coming over here. Quick, what were we talking about?" Ann asked.

"We were talking about him," Stan said.

"No stupid! I mean," Ann said, "what do we tell him we were talking about?"

Stan shrugged. "Baseball?"

As James approached their table, Ann noted the look on his face change as he obviously recognized their lunch guest.

"Oh my god," Ann said, her whisper disappearing. "You're The Heartbreaker!"

"What?" Stan said, turning to look.

As he had gotten closer to the table, in that moment of recognition, James pictured himself as a ridiculous version of Rick in his Cafe Americain, seeing Ilsa for the first time since Paris. He was conscious of the fact that he could hear Bogart's voice in his head as he said, "Hello, Ann, Stan." After a moment of uncertainty as to what to say next, unable to answer the question, 'What would Bogie say?' he decided to keep it simple. "Hello, Kate. Welcome to Wisconsin."

"Thank you," Kate said.

"So, what little conspiracy are the two of you up to, today?" James asked Ann and Stan, but he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering back to Kate.

"There it is," Stan said softly, as the sadness overtook James' face.

"What's that?" James asked.

Ann had seen it, too. "Stan was just wondering where it is you buy your clothes, Jim," she said. "What was it you said, Stan? So I can be sure I never go shopping there. Ever."

"I did not!" Stan mock-protested, grateful for Ann's save, then smiled a mock-wicked smile. "I might've been thinking it, but I did not say it!"

James laughed a soft, easy laugh. 

Ann could see that while he tried to act cool, even laughing at her little joke on Stan, James had been unable to keep his eyes off Kate. She stood and said, "Sorry to run, Jim, but uh, I've got a meeting I'm already late to. Stan, weren't you going to help me with the video set up?"

"Right," Stan said. "That meeting we're both late to, that I was going to help you with the video. Absolutely. We really should run. Kate, thanks for coming to lunch with us. I'm sure I'll be seeing you later, so, bye for now."

"Yes, Kate," Ann said, her jaw clenched. "Nice to meet you."

"Thanks again for inviting me to lunch," Kate said.

The uncomfortable cessation of conversation that followed was only accentuated by the clatter of plates and silverware on their lunch trays as Ann and Stan gathered their things and left. 

"I'll see you guys later," James said, not so much breaking the tension as giving it a signature. James watched as Ann and Stan dropped off their trays. After they left the cafeteria, he turned back to Kate and said, "Mind if I sit here?"

Kate smiled in recognition, remembering again the first time they'd met. "Not at all," she said, her smile fading as that memory faded and was replaced by the memory of the last time she had seen him.

After James sat, she asked, "You’re Jim now? You're not James any more?"

"No," James said. He smiled. "Still not crazy about being called Jimmy but even James Tiberius Kirk was Jim to his friends."

"Should I call you Jim, then?" she asked.

He seemed to think seriously about it. "No," he said. "You should still call me James."

"Okay," Kate said. She hadn't thought he'd greet her with open arms. Still, the reality of things was a lot harder to take than what she'd imagined. "How are you, James?"

"Why are you here, Kate?" James asked.

"I'm legal staff on the Synchular Audit," Kate said.

"Mere coincidence, then?" James said.

"I just wanted to know you were okay," Kate said. "You didn't answer my email. You changed your phone and convinced your sister not to give me your new number."

"Lauren wouldn't give you my number?" James felt his voice rising and felt his face flush. "Interesting. She was always Team Kate before… you know. Even after… you know… She wanted me to give you a second chance. I mean, before we found out the first chance was the only one you actually wanted, anyway."

Kate's eyes fell to the table. 

He could see that he'd hurt her and was disappointed that it was not making him feel better. In the moments when he'd imagined confronting her, he had always been Rhett Butler, not giving a damn. 

Except for the times he imagined them falling into each other's arms. 

"I haven't said more than two words to Lauren since I moved out here," James said. "Happy Birthday once. Merry Christmas once. No wait, I did say, No, I will not attend, when I RSVP'd to Lauren's and Eric's wedding invitation. Five words. I haven't said more than five words to her." He paused. "Did you get invited to the wedding?"

"No," Kate said. 

James shrugged. "Maybe she grew to hate you all on her own."

Kate winced. "So, you hate me," she said.

James considered this casual cruelty and found himself wishing again he could be a better man. "No," he said. "I don't hate you. I'm sorry. I was just being flippant. My old defense mechanism, you know, trying to make a joke. Break the tension. Lighten things up. But as you well know, I'm not as funny as I think I am." He paused. "I don't hate you."

"The people over at that table seem to find you to be quite funny," Kate said. 

James glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure they were just being workplace polite. You know. Best to laugh when the boss tells a joke, no matter how bad it is."

"I don't know," Kate said. "From here it looked like they genuinely like you. Their laughter seemed quite sincere."

"I think it was probably the Boss Thing," James said.

"That's your team?" Kate asked.

"Yes, and," James said, gesturing as he spoke, "And that table, and that one in the corner, and, well, just about everyone in the caf right now is either a direct or indirect report," James said.

Kate nodded. "Right," she said. "I saw you were promoted to Director. And you know all of them? By name?" 

"Of course," James said and shrugged. "It's my job."

Kate smiled and James knew that she knew he was lying, a little bit, about that. Yes, it was his job, but he genuinely had come to like the people he worked with and he loved being in a position to help them solve problems, achieve goals, learn and grow. Kids love me, he thought, with a dash of bitters, hating to admit that his sister was probably right; he should've become a teacher.

"You haven't answered my question," James said. "Why are you here, Kate?"

"When they were putting together the audit team I thought I'd take advantage of the opportunity. Just to see how you were doing," Kate said.

"Just to see how I'm doing?" James asked, trying hard not to sound too hopeful. Anger had quickly transformed into desire. Longing. He tried to write it off as nostalgia; for a time when he was in love and nothing else mattered, but the reality was that he'd spent the past year dreaming of seeing her again. You have to admit the truth when it punches you in the face, James thought. 

"Just to see how you're doing," Kate repeated. "You were in pretty bad shape when you left. My fault, I admit, and if you'd killed yourself I would've definitely blamed myself, so maybe I'm just being selfish."

"Wow," James said. "You really thought I might kill myself over you?"

"No," Kate said. "Yes."

“Well, as you can see, I failed in my suicide attempt,” James said. "I'm really doing just fine, Kate."

“Your friends seem to think you’re still suffering from a broken heart,” Kate said in a tone more compassionate than cutting, but James did not respond. “I think they'd both like to be more than just friends. It seemed pretty obvious to me that they’re both in love with you, though I'm pretty sure Stan knows, deep down, he doesn’t really have a chance.”

James smiled a cooked, little smile. “You aren’t buying the theory that I’m gay and just haven’t come out to myself yet?”

Kate smiled in answer. “Ann, on the other hand, has got it bad for you. Really bad. Bad bad. Hopelessly, and they lived happily ever after, bad for you. She wants to have your babies." She paused, waiting for a response from James that didn't come. "Lots of babies," she added. Still nothing from James. “They figured out who I was the moment you looked at me."

"Sorry I wasn't able to maintain my famously ineffable cool," James said. "But you did take me by surprise."

"Ann hates me, of course," Kate said. "She called me The Heartbreaker like she’d been saying it for a while, now. I could practically hear the capital T and the capital H when she said it.”

James nodded. His mind was flooded by emotions, by words jumbled up in senseless sentences, his thoughts battered by the hurricane in his head.  Seeing Kate again when he had been so close to forgetting her… Not forgetting. He would never forget, but he'd thought he was getting used to it; to not being with her. Forever.

"You know what office gossip is like. Nobody knows anything but everybody's talking, anyway. Remember how they talked about us? Like we were some improbable celebrity couple that makes everyone believe for fifteen minutes that love is real and can happen to anyone. Until it isn't. You know. Like we were Pete Davidson and Ariana Grande. I mean, if I was actually funny. And you could sing. But, as we both know, I'm not. And you can't. That's reality. Reality is sad when it isn't tragic. Or at the very least, unfunny. Or boring. Or all of the above. It's really no surprise that people want their office lives to be like The Real Housewives of Westeros." 

James had tried to tell himself it was a compliment, that his coworkers only cared about him. but he remained unconvinced and feeling more than a little self-conscious about being trapped once again in his very own personal Truman Show. He hated living his life in public, even as he knew that was exactly how life was lived.

“Despite your sadness -" Kate began.

"My sadness?" James asked with an attempted smile.

Kate nodded. "According to your friends, there's a sadness about you that can only be seen when you don't think anyone is looking."

James felt caught, cornered, revealed. "Really? Perhaps they've mistaken my thoughtful face as my sad face."

Kate smiled. "Okay. Despite your… thoughtfulness, it sounds like the move has otherwise been good for you. Given the impressive success story told by Ann and Stan, the promotion to Director was well deserved. They made it sound like you’d be CIO in a year, maybe two, tops,” Kate said. "Take Your Kids to Work Day? The man who said he didn't want kids?"

James shrugged. "It's just the job."

"I don't believe you," Kate said. 

"What?" James asked.

"I don't believe that it's just the job," Kate said. 

"When you move to a new place where there are no friends or family," James said, "it leaves you with plenty of time for work. Also, you're the new guy, so you get assignments like Take Your Kids because everyone else has already done it and interestingly enough, would like to never do it again." James tried a smile but once again, it didn’t quite happen.

"They said you dressed up like Dr. Strange from the Marvel movies," Kate said. "It just doesn't sound like the James I used to know."

"How so?" James asked.

"He isn't black and white," Kate said.

"No," James admitted. "He isn't. Okay. I like the people I work with here. They took me in, in a way when I was kind of broken and gave me the time and space I needed to put myself back together again." He shrugged. "They've become my new friends and family. So maybe it wasn't just the job. Not maybe. It wasn't just the job. But it is still a job when it's all said and done and gosh look at the time I think I'm late for my own staff meeting now," he said, standing up. "It was nice to see you again," he added, knowing it was the socially correct thing to say.

“Meet me for dinner tonight after work,” Kate said. “Old times’ sake?”

Old times' sake? James thought. Is this a don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened rapprochement Kate is looking for? We'll always have… Portsmouth? Why was it so hard for him to let her go? Deep down, he knew he was only hurting himself, carrying the baggage of regret, a refugee from love, forever waiting in Casablanca for the plane to Lisbon. Waiting and waiting and waiting. 

“I’m sorry,” James said. “I don’t think that’s a-“

“I’m at the Hampton Inn by the Olive Garden. I know you don't think it's really Italian but they share a parking lot with the hotel. Meet me there if you change your mind,” Kate said. "I'll be in the bar at 7:00."

James nodded, managed to manage a smile this time, and said, "Goodbye, Kate," then turned and left.

*****

"Jim, what are you still doing here?" 

Stan was on his way out of the office and home to his dinner when he saw James standing by the large windows that lined the west side of the building. The sun was holding onto the horizon by a fingernail as the lights of the city below began flickering to life.

James turned as Stan approached. "Oh, hey, Stan," James said. "I could ask you the same question."

Stan stood next to James. They looked out at the sparkling city scape as the deepening darkness stretched out to Minnesota and beyond.

"I had a few things to take care of - you know an admin's job is never done - but I am now on my way home and you clearly are not," Stan said. "Are you okay? What are you still doing here?" He paused. "Would you like to talk about it?"

James smiled. "I was going to say I'm fine, to answer your first question, but then I realized an honest answer to your second question would certainly call that first answer into question."

"Which is?" Stan asked.

"I'm hiding," James said.

"Not very well," Stan said.

"Not from you," James said. "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."

"Ah," Stan said. "The Heartbreaker."

James smiled as his eyes blinked back tears. 

Kate was right. He could hear the capital T and the capital H. "I was going to say I was hiding from myself but maybe that's just too easy of an answer. Or too honest of an answer. Maybe it's what I've been doing my whole life."

Stan decided to take his shot. "I just want to give you a hug right now and tell you everything's going to be alright."

"Stan," James said. "You're a really good guy. You know I like you a lot and I really should take your fashion advice -"

"Duh," Stan said.

"But," James said, pretending to look around the room behind them, "we wouldn't want to start any rumors, would we?"

"No, of course not," Stan said with a rueful smile. "And you know how people like me will talk."

They were quiet for a moment. The city night continued to sparkle, dots of light popping from the buildings and boulevards as the sunset ultimately lost its tenuous grip on the edge of the world.

"So, what's up with you and The Heartbreaker?" Stan asked.

"Kate?" James sighed. "She invited me to dinner."

"I'd like to help you out, here, Jim, but I think I'm going to need a little more context," Stan said.

"Details?" James asked.

"Details," Stan said.

"We dated for ten months. It ended badly. Traumatically, you might say," James said. "For me, anyway."

"You and I appear to have a different definition of the word 'details'," Stan said.

"The Germans wore gray, she wore blue?" James said, smiling. 

"You're not as ugly as Bogart and she's not as beautiful as… okay, she does look a little bit like Ingrid Bergman, doesn't she?" Stan said. 

James smiled. "I loved her. She didn't love me. The details really aren't that important."

"Of course they are!" Stan said. "And clearly they're important enough for you to keep them a secret." He waited, but continued when James didn't respond. "Do you still love her?"

"That," James said, "is the unimportant detail."

"Love is the unimportant detail?" Stan said.

"It is when she doesn't love you back," James said.

They were quiet again.

Stan shrugged. "It's just dinner, you know."

"Just dinner?" James said. 

"Just dinner," Stan repeated.

"It's never just dinner," James said. Not for me, he thought. I'm not a hopeless romantic; I'm just hopeless.

"I think," Stan said, "Wisconsin is a long way to go just for a booty call."

"I don't think Kate had to come to Wisconsin because she couldn't get any," James said.

"So," Stan said, "she cheated on you."

James heaved an annoyed sigh. "Yes. She cheated on me. Or she didn't. Because she'd already dumped me, but I'd yet to receive the memo, so it wasn't really cheating, just poor messaging."

"Well," Stan said. "I'd say there was a fair amount to unpack right there." 

"Not really. It's an old story. A cliche, really. Boy meets girl. Boy gets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy falls to his death from the Empire State Building," James said.

"That's not how the movie ends," Stan said, "and you, of all people, should know that."

James smiled a sad smile, "It is how the movie ends. At least it's how one movie ends. Then again, this isn't a movie, is it?"

"You know how I said I wanted to hug you, before?" Stan asked.

"Yes," James said.

"Well, now I just want to slap you," Stan said. "Who are you, anyway? You're not the Jim I've known for almost a year now. That man would stand up for himself, would do what he knows is right, and damn sure wouldn't hide from himself or anyone else. You clearly still love her. Go. Talk. And never let me see you like this again, okay?"

James nodded and smiled, touched by Stan's attempt at tough love, but more importantly, he wanted this conversation to be over. "Okay," he said. "I will."

 

"Okay," Stan said, a bit surprised he had won the argument so quickly. "Because you should. Right. Well. I should be going." He started to turn to leave but stopped, and smiling at James said, "Hug?"

James smiled in return. "Better not."

"Right. People like me would talk," Stan said with a grin, then added as he was leaving, "See you tomorrow, Jim!"

"See you tomorrow, Stan," James replied.

*****

James arrived at the Olive Garden late by almost half an hour, wondering if Kate would still be there, hoping that she hadn't waited. To his surprise and discomfort, as he approached the concierge's station in the lobby, he looked into the bar and could see Ann sitting next to Kate. He couldn't hear what they were saying, given the distance from the lobby to the bar and the din of the diners, but they didn't appear to be arguing. Were they… laughing, now? He watched as their conversation continued, making sure to stay out of sight. After a moment, to James' further wonderment, the two of them stood and shared a quick hug. As Ann turned to leave, James ducked into the Men's Room.

He told himself he was only trying to spare Ann embarrassment but he couldn't avoid the irony of now literally hiding from Kate. He waited a full five minutes in the Men's Room before venturing out and seeing that Kate was still at the bar. He gathered himself and walked over to her.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

Kate turned and her eyes looked red. “Are you okay? Have you been -”

"Allergies,” she said. “You're late.”

"Sorry," James said. "I got caught up with something at work." It was only partly a lie but he didn't get away with it.

"You're still a terrible liar," Kate said.

"Sorry," James said.

"Don't apologize for being a bad liar," she said. "It's one of your most endearing qualities."

"Okay," James said. "I was thinking about things. Lost track of time."

"Things?" Kate asked.

"You. I was thinking about you, about us. I wasn't sure I should see you again," James said. "I got caught up thinking about what might happen if I did see you again. And then I got caught up thinking about what might happen if I didn't. There were a significant number of permutations to consider and I lost track of time."

"What made you decide to see me?" Kate asked.

James wanted to say, because I still love you, but couldn't. Still hurts, he thought. He smiled, remembering what Stan had said. It's just dinner. "I was hungry."

Kate smiled. "Let's see the concierge. I put my name on the waitlist when I got here and told them I was meeting someone and I'd let them know when you got here, and here you are, so let's check in. I'm hoping we can get a table right away. You're hungry? I'm starving."

They were seated in a booth and ordered drinks. They bantered with the waiter as he listed the specials and decided on appetizers. The casual observer would've noted nothing more than a couple on a date, which is just what they were in that moment. 

James felt it. Even if it was just for this moment. The anger, bitterness, and sadness, yes, the sadness he would not admit to but had filled his life with for the past year was gone. And yet, he didn't feel empty. He felt whole. He felt himself again, for the first time in a long, long time.

Was he finally over Kate? 

Did it happen just like that? 

He had always felt presumptuous when considering forgiveness. Was it even his to give? Did Kate need - or want - his forgiveness? Was that why she was here? Maybe, just maybe, he thought, we can have Portsmouth, after all, just like Rick and Ilsa had Paris.

"So," Kate said with an impish smile. "Did you miss me?"

Did you miss me? Before he could answer, she added, "And remember; you're a terrible liar."

James nodded and smiled a counterfeit smile. An interesting question, he thought. You fucked my best friend, then threw me off the Empire State Building and broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. Why wouldn’t I have missed you? He was disappointed in himself for thinking it, but happy that he hadn't said it out loud. Progress, he thought, Though, apparently I’m not quite all the way over her. Not by a long shot. “Did I miss you? I thought about you every day." His straightforward answer seemed to surprise Kate. "Am I lying?"

"No lie detected," Kate said.

"Happy?" James asked.

"Why do you think that would make me happy?" Kate asked, a bit defensively.

James hesitated. "Wishful thinking on my part? You know. Misery loves company? I know I don't have any right to think that you missed me because I… I don't know why.” Still unable to say, because I still love you, he paused. "What were you hoping I would say?"

To Kate's relief, the waiter appeared with their appetizers, took their entree orders and promised to bring fresh drinks.

After the waiter left, James gathered his courage and what he hoped were the right words for the moment, except all he could think of was, the problems of two little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world…

“I hear you still love old movies. Payday Matinees, was it? Have you shown them King Kong?"

Kate had always had a way of keeping the conversation… interesting? Sometimes he forgot she was a lawyer. She had a way of asking questions that led to uncomfortable revelations. Maybe I don't want to remember the good times, either, James thought. "No," he said.

"Why not?" Kate said. "I thought it was your favorite.”

James shrugged. "It was. It is. Sometimes you see a movie one too many times, you know? It was your favorite movie for years but then one day you realize, you can't even think about watching it again. Movies are like memories, and memories attach themselves to other memories and sometimes you just want to forget. But then, one day, you realize you want to remember. I’m sure I’ll watch it again someday. Maybe in another year or two or ten from now I'll feel differently about it."

"Your friend Ann came to see me," Kate said. "She wants me to let you go."

"Let me go?" James asked. 

"Ann seems to think there's something more to my trip than the Synchular Audit. She wants me to, let me see if I remember it exactly, she wants me to '...release you from whatever spell I've cast upon you, so your heart can finally heal...'," Kate said. 

"And did you tell her you would? Break the spell? I hope this won't cost the lives of two many newts," James said.

"Newts?" Kate asked.

"Eye of newt and toe of frog," James said. "It's from the witch's spell in Macbeth."

"Oh! Okay. You were making a joke," Kate said. "About the potential loss of life in the newt community."

"Sorry," James said.

"I'm not sure I like being cast in the role of the witch in this play," Kate said. 

"I didn't mean to imply -" James began.

"Eye of newt and toe of frog hardly sounds like a love potion," Kate said.

"It isn't," James said. "Or wasn't. I guess it still isn't. Not important." He took a breath. "So, you told her you don't love me, right?" It's what you told me, he thought. "That must’ve reassured her."

"I don't think there's anything I could say that would've reassured Ann," Kate said. "She's got it pretty bad for you."

"But you did tell her, right?" James said. "You don't love me."

"Do you love her?" Kate asked.

"Ann? I only know Ann as a co-worker, and not at all outside of work," James said. "I promised myself I wouldn't date anyone from the office when I moved out here." He paused in thought. "I do feel bad for Ann. Loving someone who doesn't love you back." He hesitated, then smiled. "I'd sleep with her best friend but I think that might be Stan."

Kate winced and looked away. James immediately regretted his cruel, crude attempt at humor.

"Sorry. Really, I'm… Sorry. I guess I haven't quite figured out yet how to be the ex-boyfriend. We should be able to make a joke and laugh about it by now, shouldn't we? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and then humor, right? I mean, okay, I know. I'm not as funny as I think I am," James said.

"Don't sell yourself short," Kate said. "I'm sure I'll get that joke later and laugh and laugh."

"I'm sorry," James said. 

"I didn't come here to get into a fight with you," Kate said, her voice edged with anger.

James nodded. "Right. You just wanted to know I was okay."

"And clearly you are," Kate said.

They were quiet for a moment.

He was torn. He wanted this night to be over but it was increasingly difficult for him to deny that he and Kate still had more issues to work out before she got on that plane to Lisbon. "What else would you like to know?" James asked.

"What?" Kate asked, shaken from her regretful reverie.

"You asked if I missed you," James said. "What else would you like to know? Have I picked up any hobbies? Read any good books? Seen any good movies? Any bad movies? Maybe you'd like to know if I've made eggplant parmesan for anyone?"

"Have you?" Kate asked.

"No," James said. "Look, I can only respond to the generic, 'how are you' by answering with the generic 'I'm okay’ so many times before it starts to sound like a lie."

"Is it?" Kate asked. "A lie?"

"I thought you could always tell when I was lying," James said. She didn't respond. "Yesterday it would've been a lie. I was not okay. I'm not sure I was anywhere close to okay or even moving in the general direction of okay before you showed up," James said.

"And now?" Kate asked.

"And now? I don't know why or how but I feel okay," he said. "I do. Not great, but okay. Maybe even good. I thought I never wanted to see you again, that it would literally kill me, even as I was thinking about you, thinking about seeing you again, every single day." He smiled. "Maybe I was suicidal after our… break up. I just didn't name it. I'd been living forever in the past, tending my cubicle farm of memories, of regret, of love lost."

"So, getting rid of the cubicles and going with the open workspace model was post-breakup therapy?" Kate asked. "You couldn't just pick up a girl in a bar and have a one-night stand like a normal guy?"

James considered it. Everything he'd done since taking the job in Wisconsin had felt more about angrily bargaining with depression than post-breakup therapy, he thought and shrugged. "You know I'm not a normal guy. Anyway, when I saw you in the cafeteria, my very first thought was that I was happy to see you. My second thought was hating myself for not hating you. You did hurt me."

"I know," Kate said. "And I'm sorry. It really was the last thing I wanted to do."

James nodded. "When… it happened, It felt like I wasn't even the hero of my own movie. Or I was the hero of a ridiculously sad movie. Seeing you again, I think it helped me realize I have to give that movie an ending if I'm ever going to move on, maybe finally start working on the second film in a trilogy that ends with me as the King of all the Seven Realms, living happily ever after with my Faerie Queen by my side until the End of All Days."

"So," Kate said. "You've forgiven me, then?"

Perhaps Kate needs an ending to her movie, too, James thought. It isn’t forgiveness I have to give, it isn't about forgiveness so much as it's about acceptance… But he knew this wasn’t the time for semantics or complexities or cleverness. Maybe their problems didn't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, but he decided against his natural instinct to make a joke when things turned serious. "Yes," he simply said.

"Good," she said. "Thank you."

"Okay," James said, "So. How have you been? What's new with Kate?"

"If you're asking if I'm seeing anyone," Kate said, "I'm not." She paused. "Happy?"

He wasn't sure why, after their moment of interpersonal detente, but he could hear the anger in Kate's voice. Being friends was proving to be more difficult than being lovers. “I really was only trying to engage in casual dinner conversation. Not my area of expertise, apparently,” James sighed. “Your sex life is literally the last thing I want to talk about. I think we can be friends but I don’t think we can be girlfriends.”

“Okay,” Kate said and smiled. “So. Friends?”

Maybe it wasn't anger in her voice, James thought. Regret? Frustration? Something else? He realized he was overthinking the moment. “Sure.” He raised his cocktail glass in toast. “Friends.”

Kate raised her glass and touched his. “Friends.”

They were carefully casual for the rest of their evening. They caught up on people James had known and some people James had already forgotten. Kate talked about her career and where it was going; her hopes and aspirations. He found himself remembering how much he really liked Kate, her passion, her intelligence. They talked about movies, of course, but avoided the black and white classics in favor of more recent releases. 

After dinner, James walked Kate across the parking lot over to the Hampton Inn.

“Thanks for a nice dinner tonight, James,” Kate said. “I'm glad we talked.”

“So am I," James said. The moment was awkwardly filled with a history that was still being written and James was unsure what to do - or say - next. A friendly peck on the cheek? He felt like the moment for that had passed so he simply said, "Well, good night, Kate.”

“Good night,” Kate said. 

James turned to leave then turned back. “So, when are you heading back?”

“We're flying back on Saturday. 11:00 am flight, I think,” Kate said. 

“Okay,” James said. “Consider yourself invited to this Friday’s Payday Matinee. 3:30 in the cafeteria. The popcorn’s on me.”

"Maybe this should be goodbye," Kate said. 

It did feel like goodbye. It felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He took her hand, kissed her on the cheek and while he was thinking, here's lookin' at you, kid, he said, "Goodbye, Kate."

"Goodbye, Jim," she said with a smile, a smile he returned before he turned and took his tears into the night.

*****

James stood in front of the projector screen and scanned the small crowd for Kate, even though he had said goodbye, even though she had said goodbye. Love, it seemed, was a hard habit to break. Stop it, he thought. She’s gone.

 

"Welcome, everyone, and thank you all for coming to Payday Matinee!"

There was a smattering of applause and muted hoots of approval.

"Today, we're going to watch one of my personal favorites. It's a monster movie… Or is it? Featuring the Eighth Wonder of the Modern World, the 1933 original, King Kong," James said. He turned down the cafeteria lights then hit play on the laptop he used to show the DVD.

As the credits rolled, there was polite applause. James returned to the front of the room. 

"All right," James said. "I want to thank you all again for coming to Payday Matinee and I hope everyone enjoyed the movie. I'll be sticking around for anyone who'd like to talk about the film, and to everyone else, have a great weekend!"

There were a few voices that shouted back "Thanks, Jim!" amidst the bustle of the people sorting themselves out between the leavers and the discussion joiners. It seemed like a larger group than usual for the after-movie for Kong. Twice the usual number of suspects, James thought. Ann and Stan, of course. Linda, one of his direct reports and two of the engineers from her team, Mary and Scott. Other architects and engineers from his department. After a quick headcount, he wondered, 'Do fourteen people qualify as a crowd'? He had noticed Ann also searching the faces of those in attendance, too, no doubt looking for The Heartbreaker.

"Okay, everyone," James said, taking a seat in one of the chairs that had been pulled into a loose circle. "What do you think? Is King Kong a monster movie? Or… is it a love story?"

When no one offered an answer, Jack continued. “Anyone?" He looked at Ann and Stan. Not Ann, James thought. “At the obvious risk of asking for your opinion, Stan...” There were a few chuckles of recognition. “Monster movie or love story?”

A wicked smile animated Stan’s face. “Well, if it’s a love story, they’re going to have one big problem consummating the marriage!”

There was plenty of nervous laughter, a few eyeballs were rolled, and Ann gave Stan a soft shove in mock disgust. 

“I knew I was taking a chance asking you, Stan,” James said. "So that’s on me. Thank you for the conversation starter."

“You’re welcome,” Stan said.

“But I think you’re conflating sex with love,” James said. He considered the room without Kate. Stan’s smile flatlined as he saw the sadness overwhelm James yet again. “It’s a common and sometimes tragic mistake,” James said, more to himself than to Stan or the others in the room. 

James felt the sadness - or maybe he picked up on Stan’s reaction - and pushed it down. He smiled. “Besides,” he said. “Let me remind you that we never actually see Kong’s penis so who knows? Maybe it wasn’t that big of a problem.” He held up his left hand with the thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “Maybe it was only this big of a problem.”

When the laughter died down, James heard her voice.

"Aren't all movies really love stories at heart?" Kate asked.

She was standing in the doorway to the cafeteria.

James stood and said. "Why don't you join us? Please."

Kate walked over to the circle and sat. "Thanks," she said.

"You were saying that all movies are really love stories?" James asked, after returning to his seat.

"Well," Kate said, "someone who knows more about movies than I do told me that once."

"Do you think it's true?" James asked.

"I'd like it to be," Kate said.

James nodded. "So, you're still not sure," he said. "Any other thoughts?" he asked, hoping to escape the emotions entangling his thoughts, but everyone else in the room, it seemed, had become riveted to the real life drama of Jim and The Heartbreaker. 

"You told me last night that you couldn't watch King Kong any more. Even though it had always been your favorite," Kate said. "You said it reminded you of things you wanted to forget. What changed your mind?"

"Last night we said a great many things," James said. "I've done a lot of thinking since then. It turns out, I want to remember, after all." He shrugged. "Maybe love just can't be forgotten. Maybe it shouldn't be."

"A memory," Kate said. "Past tense?"

"Yes," James said. "And no."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kate asked.

"I mean," James said, "Yes, it's a memory, past tense, but in the moment of remembrance, it isn't. That feeling is… immediate, real, almost tangible. For as long as the memory lasts, I can feel like I'm in love again." The room was quiet. He wasn't sure, but he thought Stan might be crying. "I'm sorry. Maybe we should just get back to the movie?"

"It was probably not safe for work," Kate said, "as is the case with most penis jokes, but that was actually pretty funny."

"Pretty funny?" James asked.

"Yes," Kate said. "Pretty funny."

"Tell him what you told me last night," Ann said, looking at Kate. "Tell him!"

"I'm not sure this is the time or place -" Kate began.

"Oh, this is definitely the time and the place," Stan said.

"Tell him," Ann repeated, with Stan joining in the chorus. "Tell him!"

"Okay!" Kate said. "I'll tell him. I just have one question to ask before I do, though." She paused, gathered her courage, and asked, "Do you still love me, James?"

"Best Payday Matinee ever," Stan whispered to Ann.

James took a breath and realized that everyone in the room had their eyes riveted to him. Everyone seemed to be leaning forward ever so slightly in anticipation of what he would say. 

"Yes," James said. "I love you, Kate."

Kate nodded, then smiled. "James Tiberius Mahoney -"

"His middle name is Tiberius?" Stan said, this time loud enough for people to hear.

"They're having a moment, you idiot!" Ann said.

"Sorry," Stan said. "You were saying?"

Kate hesitated.

"You can call me Jim," James said.

Kate smiled. "You'll always be James to me," she said. "I love you, James."

In that moment, for James, there was only Kate and for Kate, there was only James. He stood and she stood as he walked over to her. He took her in his arms and she took him in hers. They kissed, tasting each other's tears and though the crowd of fourteen clapped and whistled, they couldn't hear them.