The Big Pet Store

“I’m telling you man, planet Earth is just one big pet store for the Greys.”

“You’re an idiot, Jimmy,” Eric said, with a little too much force. 

“Doesn’t make me wrong,” Jimmy said, oblivious to Eric’s tone.

Eric was the smartest of them, though not the best of them. He was tall and thin in an obvious health club membership way with curly black hair that looked like he had just licked his fingers and stuck them in an electrical outlet. 

Jimmy was definitely not the smartest of them, but he was hardly an idiot. He was the good-looking one, with the face of an angel from a Renaissance painting, bright blue eyes and pink cheeks framed by wisps of long, blonde hair. His wife Rachel joked that she was the luckiest woman on the planet, not that she wasn't pretty in that high school cheerleader/prom queen kind of way, but even she agreed Jimmy was the good-looking one.

"So," Eric said. "Earth is just one big pet store for the Greys, huh? Okay, then why do they always bring the pet back to the store?"

"What are you doing, Eric?" Scott asked.

"I'm trying to bring some logic and reason to the discussion," Eric said.

"Logic and reason?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Eric said. "Jimmy says planet Earth is a pet store. But abductees - "

"Experiencers," Jimmy corrected.

"The pets, as Jimmy analogized them, are always returned. Why is that?" Eric asked.

"Because we're assholes," Jimmy said, perhaps a little too directly to Eric.

“I’m giving the point to the idiot on this one, Eric,” said Scott, trying to keep things from getting too serious. Missing an exit and getting lost - if only briefly - had made for a contentious drive up to Lake Winnisquam, and the first round of beers had done little to ease the tension.

Scott had a kind but sad face written by a history of failed relationships, which instead of making him hard and bitter, had instead cracked his heart open like Pandora's Box. You can keep yourself busy and think you've forgotten, but you can't run away from your memories. The history he shared with Eric was marked by the cliches of an American childhood - bicycles, cars, sports - as well as the heartbreaks of young adulthood. So far, it had all been heartbreak for Scott. All that he had left was hope and he wasn't letting go of it. Hope. Hope that he would find his one true love, hope that maybe Lisa was the one, hope for a happily ever after. 

Eric liked to call Scott a hopeless romantic, and it was clear from his tone that it was not meant as a compliment. Scott understood the meaning of the phrase but if taken literally, it made no sense to him. To Scott it was an oxymoron. He couldn't understand how a romantic could ever be hopeless. 

Life had granted Scott an empathy his friends lacked. He was the nice guy or at least that's what he told himself each time he'd finished last. He had kept the four friends together, because of and despite their history, mostly by deftly changing the subject before words became fists. In this case, though, he was more than happy to tweak Eric, who was taking out on Jimmy the anger, hurt, and frustrations he had trucked up to the lake with him. 

Scott doubted Eric's stated motivation in organizing their fishing trip; something about "renewing the bonds of friendship." Perhaps it was simply nostalgia for a simpler time in their lives. On the other hand, Eric had privately confided in him; problems at home, his marriage was hanging in the balance. His sympathy for Eric was sincere, but after dealing with Eric on the drive as well as his imperiously ineffective micromanaging of the efforts to pitch the tent, Scott's patience for his childhood friend's grown up problems had been exhausted. When life gives you lemons, you shouldn't throw them at your friends, Scott thought and smiled to himself. You should make yourself a vodka lemonade, like I do…

“Should we be talking about this out here? In the woods? With no cell service?” Paul asked. His right forefinger nervously traced the line of his pencil-thin mustache, the objective correlative for his obsessive attention to detail - details that somehow never resolved themselves as coherent pixels in a big picture. Paul wished he’d been able to say no to the invitation to join his friends on a nostalgic visit to their shared younger days with a weekend of fishing, but his chronic feelings of insecurity and self-loathing had overwhelmed him. Now, chronic fear of dying stupid - captured in some epic fail video digitally etched in forever - had been replaced by a fear of alien abduction. Paul, it seemed, was always afraid of something; the obscure object of his fear might change, but his constantly simmering terror was always bubbling just below the surface. He had no doubt his friends would capture his abduction on video and post it on TikTok. “Aren’t any of you afraid of cosmic karma? Because you should be. And if any of you had ever seen a movie, or read the book it was based on, you would be. Because this conversation is exactly how the movie starts.”

"There are no aliens," Eric said. "You should be more concerned with bears."

The four friends were enjoying a second beer while hot dogs hissed on the small, portable gas grill; their reward for the unexpectedly yet somehow also predictably arduous task of setting up a four-man tent on uneven ground with a total disregard for instructions and an equally inevitable descent into the jerkface politics of the human condition. After three failed attempts, and despite all their worst efforts to ignore Eric's Mussolini of the Campgrounds impersonation, the tent had finally been pitched, and the four men now cooled the sweaty warmth of their simulated survival skills with their not quite cold bottles of Sam's Summer Ale. It was their first fishing trip in a little over five years, a once annual tradition that had more recently been canceled due to the inevitable events of grown up life. Partying had given way to working weekends . Girlfriends had become wives; men who had once been children had become parents.

"Bears?" Paul asked, quickly scanning the woods surrounding their campsite.

"Neil deGrasse Tyson here is just yanking your chain, Paul," Scott said. 

"You know why Neil deGrasse Tyson says there aren't any aliens?" Jimmy asked.

"Because people can't get their iPhones out of their hip pockets fast enough to take a picture of one?" Scott asked.

"Doesn't Samsung have a better camera? Maybe the aliens can use their technology to sense and abduct only people who have an iPhone," Paul suggested.

"The iPhone 14's camera is almost as good, spec for spec, as the Samsung Galaxy. Besides, you're missing the point. The point is that Neil deGrasse Tyson is an alien," Jimmy said. He scanned the growing shadows of the woods around them as he spoke. "What better way to convince the people of planet Earth that aliens aren't real than by using a Shemp astrophysicist? I mean, it's obvious, isn't it?"

"What is it?" Scott asked Jimmy. "Do you see him? There in the woods?"

"What?" Jimmy asked. "Who?"

"Neil deGrasse Tyson," Scott said. Answering Eric's puzzled look, he added with a smile, "We said his name three times."

"Please don't indulge him," Eric said. "And you know very well that that's Beetlejuice."

"Bloody Mary, too," Paul said.

"What?" Eric asked.

"You say Bloody Mary's name three times, too," Paul said. "I'm just saying, it's not just Beetlejuice."

"You need a mirror for Bloody Mary," Eric said.

"You know," Scott said, "you know a lot about things you say you don't believe in. Why is that?"

"I know a lot about everything," Eric said.

"Except for setting up a tent," Paul said.

Eric did not laugh.

"Hold on," Jimmy said. "Scott may be onto something. After all, Beetlegeuse is the name of an actual star and Neil deGrasse Tyson is an actual astrophysicist." He nodded and knitted the fingers of his hands together. "It just fits."

"Did I say you were an idiot?" Eric asked, then added, with a smile this time, "Maybe I should apologize. To idiots."

"Okay, guys," Paul said. "But what about the bear question."

"The bear question? You mean," Scott said, "Do they shit in the woods?"

"I know that one!" Jimmy said. "The answer is yes. Oh, and the Pope is Catholic and according to some, he may also shit in the woods."

"Yes, but does Neil deGrasse Tyson shit in the woods?" Eric asked.

"What does alien scat look like?" Jimmy asked.

"Remarkably like bear scat," Eric said.

"So," Jimmy said triumphantly, "you admit aliens are real!"

"No," Eric said. "I was making a joke. I'm not even sure I know what bear scat looks like."

"If I had signal, I could Google it," Paul said, checking his phone again. "Seems like it might be important."

"I should think the size of the pile might be a clue," Jimmy said.

"It would be okay if I slept in the truck tonight, wouldn't it?" Paul asked.

"And how are you going to feel in the morning when you find the three of us dead, mauled by a bear?" Eric said.

"Or missing," Jimmy added. "Abducted by aliens."

"Relieved?" Paul said. "Vindicated? Happy to be alive? All of the above?"

"Wow," Scott said with a big smile. "And you call yourself my friend."

"You can have the back seat," Paul said. "There's room for everyone with the back seat of the Explorer down."

"I suppose that's true," Scott said. "But really, Paul, we were all just kidding around about aliens, abductions, and bears -"

"Oh my," Eric interjected.

"I wasn't," Jimmy said.

"Wait a minute," Eric said. "I thought the whole point of this trip was for us to touch the earth, to actually see stars at night, renew our souls, man versus nature, test ourselves, renew the bonds of friendship."

"Test ourselves?" Scott said. "In a battle of wills with the famously ferocious and deadly rainbow trout?"

"Like Paul said. We're out in the woods, no cell service, and if anything goes wrong, we're on our own. Pop quiz," Eric said.

"On our own," Scott said. "With an all-wheel drive SUV with a half a tank of gas, and thanks to Paul, a full palette of bottled water and enough turkey jerky to make an actual turkey."

"You're welcome," Paul said.

"They do have teeth," Jimmy said. 

"What?" Eric asked.

"Rainbow trout," Jimmy said. "They have teeth. All varieties of trout, as a matter of fact. And they are carnivores."

"Don't worry, Paul," Scott said. "There aren't any nuclear power plants in the area. The likelihood that we'll encounter a 14-foot radioactive mutant rainbow trout with teeth as big as your head may not be zero, but it is highly unlikely."

"I'm still sleeping in the truck tonight," Paul said.

"Come on, Paul," Scott said. "Even if there is a trout in the lake as big as a great white shark, they can't walk on land."

"Hold on, Scott," Jimmy said. "If we're talking about radioactive mutations, as we were, then maybe it can walk on land. I mean, it would if I was making that movie."

"There's a part of me that knows you're just screwing with me," Paul said, "but I'm definitely sleeping in the truck tonight."

"Suit yourself," Eric said. "I'm sleeping in the tent we just spent almost an hour setting up, okay?" He waited for one of his friends to say they would join him but they did not. 

"I think we better eat those dogs before they're burnt to a cinder," Scott said, doing his best to change the subject. 

*****

Paul was the first to get up the next morning after a fitful night of mostly not quite sleeping as every strange noise - and they all seemed strange to Paul - startled him awake with a rush of sweat and adrenalin. He considered the possibility of making new friends; friends who preferred book clubs, live music, fine dining, and never traveling past the warning sign that said, "Now Leaving Portsmouth." He had missed Ben Folds at the Music Hall to make this trip and if he had discovered anything out here in the woods it was that he was no longer that guy from five years ago. Maybe none of them were. 

Suddenly, Jimmy sat up and announced, "Gotta pee." In his struggle to extricate himself from the back of the SUV, he woke Scott. 

"Good morning," Scott said, as Jimmy nearly fell while getting out of the truck, before stumbling off to the nearby stand of trees to take care of his business.

"Great. Now I've got to pee, too," Paul said. 

"What time is it?" Scott asked.

"Seven," Paul said, checking his watch. "Seven oh seven."

"Really?" Scott asked. "I thought Eric would've woken us up two hours ago."

"What's up with him?" Paul asked.

"You don't know?" Scott asked.

"It was a rhetorical question and I'm not sure I want to hear you make yet another excuse for his behavior," Paul said.

"Melissa kicked him out," Scott said, unable to keep it to himself any longer.

Paul had known about Eric and Melissa's failing marriage but had kept the secret this long, and decided it was better to continue the fiction. "What? Why?" Paul asked. He'd had time to think about it and he still wasn't sure about the why of it, only that, even if Eric was a jackass, it was sad. Eric and Melissa had been the first wedding, the first child, and now, it seemed, they would be the first divorce.

"Why? Because Eric's a jerk?" Scott asked. "A jackass. A bitter, sarcastic bitch? An arrogant asshat? A condescending little shit? A complete and total dick?"

"Wow," Paul said. "I thought it was just me."

"Don't get me wrong," Scott said. "I say that with love." He took a breath. "I do feel badly for Eric, but it's hard not to see this from Melissa's point of view. I wish I'd had it in me to say something to Eric when it might've made a difference but I just couldn't…" He shrugged. "Nobody's perfect, I guess." He smiled. "Not even me." He shook his head. "I dated Melissa before she and Eric got together."

"What?" Paul asked.

"Yeah," Scott said.

"I had no idea," Paul said. 

"Really?" Scott said. "I mean, I know it was before Eric and I met you and Jimmy in grad school, but I, well, it was awkward. It seemed like it was so obvious to me. I'm not that good at hiding my feelings. You had no idea? Why do you think we haven't gone on our annual fishing trip for five years?"

"Okay. That's a lot. I suppose it explains why we haven't gone fishing before but it hardly explains why we've gone fishing now," Paul said. 

"I have two theories on that," Scott said. "One, he's trying to reconnect with himself, his younger self, I suppose; he's trying to rediscover his inner Eric, the guy Melissa said yes to."

Paul nodded. "Okay, I could see that. What's your other theory?"

"He wants to kill me," Scott said.

Paul laughed. "Wait! Are you serious? You didn't sleep with your best friend's wife, did you?" Maybe there was more to the Eric and Melissa story than he knew.

"No, no, no," Scott said, now regretting having shared the backstory to Eric's recent dickishness. "That was over a long time ago."

"Really," Paul said. "So, Melissa divorces Eric, and she comes to you and tells you she always loved you and she never stopped loving you and she just wants a second chance and she's looking at you with those big brown eyes and she's obviously not wearing a bra under that slightly too small t-shirt she's just barely wearing and you slam the door in her face? Melissa?"

"I thought you had to pee," Scott said, noticing that Jimmy had come back out of the woods and was walking over to the tent.

"Yeah, I did, I mean, I do," Paul said, getting out of the SUV.

"Hey!" Jimmy called out as he walked over to them. "Eric isn't in the tent. I think he went fishing without us. What an asshole."

"You should tell him, too," Paul said as Scott followed him out of the truck and into the cool, damp morning air.

"Tell me what?" Jimmy asked.

"Melissa left Eric," Paul said. 

"He's going through some things," Scott said.

"It's why he's been such a dick," Paul said.

Jimmy nodded. "Okay. Though I'm not sure Eric ever needed an excuse to be a dick."

"You don't seem surprised," Scott said.

"The only thing surprising about it is that it took this long," Jimmy said. 

"You left out the best part," Paul said.

"Don't you have to pee?" Scott asked

"Scott and Melissa were an item before she hooked up with Eric," Paul said. "Like back in the day, before we met in grad school."

"Now you're surprised?" Scott asked Jimmy, noting his slack jaw and blank stare.

"Melissa chose Eric over you?" Jimmy asked. "I mean, I never really got them as a couple but now… This just makes no sense."

"It gets better," Paul said.

"No, please," Scott began.

"Scott thinks Eric wants to kill him. Over Melissa," Paul said. "That's why we're out here for the first time in five years. In the woods. To bury the body where nobody will ever find it. The story? Abducted by aliens. It writes itself, really."

"Plausible," Jimmy asked. He turned to Scott. "So. You and Melissa."

"Like I just told Paul," Scott said. "There is no me and Melissa. That was a long time ago. Melissa and I are not a thing, we're not having an affair, we're just friends and that's all there is to it."

"Believe him?" Paul asked.

"Not a word," Jimmy said.

"Funny," Scott said. "Look, I'm very happy with Lisa. Eric fucked around and he's just going through a lot of finding out right now and I'm probably just being paranoid. You know. About him wanting to kill me."

"Probably," Paul said with a wicked smile. "As in the chances that Eric wants to kill you may be highly unlikely, but they're not zero, either."

"So, Eric fucked around," Jimmy said. "So he was the one who had an affair?" 

"You sound disappointed," Scott said.

"You're happy with Lisa?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes," Scott answered.

"Very happy," Jimmy repeated.

"Yes," Scott said, this yes not sounding quite as confident as the previous yes.

"She's the one?" Paul asked. "You think she's the one?"

Scott hesitated. "I don't know. Maybe."

"So, no," Paul said.

"I didn't say no," Scott protested.

"You didn't say yes," Jimmy said.

"Did you ever think Melissa was the one?" Paul asked. "You know, when you were, uh, dating?"

Scott shook his head but didn't say no. "Why are we doing this? Shouldn't we be looking for Eric?"

"He's probably just fishing," Paul said, scanning the woods to the West, towards where Sandy Creek fed into Lake Winnisquam.

"He probably just wants to be alone," Jimmy said, then looking at Scott, hw added with a smile, "To get away from the sight of you and the homicidal urges he feels every time he pictures you in Melissa's arms. And legs."

"If Eric wants to kill anyone it's probably himself," Paul said.

"Such an egotist," Jimmy said.

They were quiet for a moment.

"Maybe we should go take a look for Eric," Jimmy said.

"Right," Paul said. "I just need to pee, first."

*****

Ignoring Paul and his fear of everything that's ever happened in a movie, they elected to split up to look for Eric. It wasn't long before Scott saw him, sitting on an outcropping of rocks near where the creek fed the lake. His body was limp and his head was down and for a moment Scott thought something might be wrong, but then Eric turned to see whether a bear was charging him as Scott noisily and unathletically stumbled to where Eric sat.

Scott fell into a walk and gave him a big smile and said, "So, I see the Greys brought you back."

Eric gave no reply and turned to look back over the lake. Scott sat down next to him. They were quiet. The lake lapped at the stony ground just a few feet from where they sat. The waters were deep blue below the bright morning sun. The lake wore a scarf of autumn leaves reflected in the shallows along the shoreline. For a moment, Scott remembered himself from ten years ago.

"You okay, Eric?" Scott asked.

Eric took a deep breath and let it out. "I blew it," he said. "I had everything. A beautiful, brilliant wife, a son, a great house in a great neighborhood, a six-figure job and the car I'd dreamed of owning since I was sixteen. I had everything I'd ever wanted and I threw it all away."

"I'm sorry, Eric," Scott began. "I don't know what -"

"I cheated on Melissa," Eric said.

"I know," Scott said.

Scott had heard the rumors about Eric and Beth at work, but had ignored instead of confronting them. At first, he'd dismissed it as workplace politics. Eric wasn't well-liked and Beth was young - just out of college - and ambitious, which hadn't made her many friends, either. Why hadn't he talked to Eric, tried to get him to see what he was doing was wrong? Did he still love Melissa? Before their son, James was born, Scott had often wishfully thought of Eric and Melissa simply growing apart and eventually divorcing like so many couples do. She had a career of her own and like many married couples, Eric and Melissa spent more time apart than together. Then Melissa got pregnant and Scott decided he was only fooling himself; it was time to move on.

Soon after, Scott had started dating Lisa, a friend of Melissa's that he'd met at the hospital when the friends of Eric and Melissa had gathered to take turns awkwardly holding James, the tiny new human. 

He remembered his feelings of jealousy. Eric was right. It was a lot to throw away.

"You need to talk to Melissa," Scott said.

"Really?" Eric said. "Why didn't I think of that? Yeah. I'd like to talk to Melissa but she won't answer the phone. She threatened to call the cops the last time I went to the house."

"Maybe she just needs some time -" Scott said.

"Really?" Eric asked, bitterly. "Time heals all wounds? Even sucking chest wounds?"

"Sorry," Scott said. "I know that was kind of boilerplate advice." He paused. "Doesn't make it bad advice."

"I thought about asking you to talk to her for me," Eric said. "But I was afraid she might still have feelings for you. And I know you still have feelings for her."

"Melissa and me, that was a long time ago," Scott said. "She chose you. She married you. She had your child. Besides, I'm perfectly happy with Lisa."

"Perfectly happy?" Eric asked.

"Okay," Scott said with a smile. "Imperfectly happy." Maybe that's enough, Scott thought. Maybe it's the best any of us can do.

They were quiet for a moment, caught up in their own thoughts, life flashing before their eyes like a highlight reel of learning to ride bikes, to drive a car, to kiss a girl, college, jobs…

Eric laughed. 

"What?" Scott asked.

"I kind of wish the Greys had taken me," Eric said.

"They never would've kept you," Scott said. "You'd be a terrible pet."

"I know," Eric said. "I am kind of an asshole."

"Kind of?" Scott said. 

"Okay," Eric said. "But that's not what I meant." He was quiet for a moment. "Beth wanted me to leave Melissa. Divorce. I couldn't do it. I realized too late what I had with Melissa and James. So, I broke it off with Beth and she reported me to HR. Sexual harassment. She had all the receipts. A textbook case, really, when you think about it. I'm going to lose my job." He chuckled, ruefully. "And it's all my fault."

"Wow," Scott said. "I'm sorry, Eric."

"I don't know if I really knew how much I loved Melissa until she kicked me out," Eric said. He paused. "I'm not even sure I was in love with her when I stole her from you -"

"You didn't steal her -" Scott interrupted.

"I stole her from you," Eric repeated. "I was always competing with you, trying to be better than you."

"Really?" Scott said. "I thought you were the smart one."

"Not smart enough, obviously," Eric said. "Maybe I loved Melissa, then, but really all I remember is that I just didn't want you to have her."

"It was Melissa's decision," Scott said, and while he knew that was true, he heard the anger he could not disguise in his voice.

Eric shrugged. "Maybe I was just rationalizing sleeping with Beth. Anyway, things started to get serious without me realizing it was happening. That's a lie. I knew exactly what was happening. It wasn't a surprise when Beth asked me to divorce Melissa, but that's when it slapped me in the face. I love Melissa."

"Let's go home," Scott said.

"I can't," Eric said. 

"We need to go home," Scott said. 

"I can't go home," Eric said.

"You need to go home," Scott said.

Eric hung his head again. "It wasn't the first time."

"What are you talking about?" Scott asked.

"It wasn't the first time I cheated on Melissa," Eric said.

"What?" Scott said.  

"I'm sorry, man," Eric said.

"You're sorry - What? Lisa?" Scott asked. "Have you slept with all of my girlfriends?"

"Yes," Eric said.

"Linda?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Eric said.

"Ronnie?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Eric said. "And Lisa."

They were quiet for a moment.

Scott couldn't help but think back to all the endings. The awkward moments at get togethers. Birthdays, cookouts, holidays. The obvious tension between his girlfriends and Eric followed by the breakup. Had he known all along? Had he been holding back with Lisa because he couldn't face another ending? Maybe planet Earth isn't one big pet store, he thought, maybe it's more like an animal shelter. He felt alone, rejected, abandoned, awaiting a rescue that had yet to arrive.

"I didn't sleep with Judy," Eric said.

"Judy?" Scott asked. "Judy Watson?" Scott's voice broke and echoed over the still morning lake. "That was 7th grade! I was twelve. I didn't sleep with her either. I don't think I even knew what sex was, then. I mean, I knew what it was but I didn't know know it. I certainly didn't know what love was. Or is, for that matter, apparently. Wait. You slept with Lisa. After Lisa and I started dating?"

"No," Eric said. "I mean, yes. Once before you started dating her and once after. Sorry." 

"Sorry? Wait. You slept with Lisa while Melissa was pregnant?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Eric said.

"You're making it really difficult for me to feel sorry for you," Scott said. "Are you sure you love Melissa?"

"Yes," Eric said, smiling weakly. His eyes were red and all cried out.

"Does she know about Linda, Ronnie, and Lisa?" Scott asked.

"I don't know. I don't think so, but she knows about Beth," Eric said. "Beth sent her pictures."

"Pictures," Scott said. "You took pictures?"

"Along with the note that said, 'Ask your husband who took these pictures.'," Eric said. "Like any good lawyer, Melissa would know the answer before she asked me the question, but the answer was already obvious in this case, since Beth sent the pictures from her Gmail account."

"I don't think you can call Jimmy an idiot ever again," Scott said. "In what universe is it a good idea to keep a digital record of your marital infidelity? Melissa could be a lousy lawyer - and she isn't - and she'd still take you for every dime you have. Wait."

"What?" Eric asked, looking around, hoping Scott had just seen the bear that would do him like Leo in The Revenant. Only in his case, if he was really lucky, it would kill him.

"You've got pictures of Lisa, too?" Scott asked.

"Do you really want to know?" Eric asked.

"Oh my god," Scott said. "You son of a bitch. You do. You've got pictures of all of them."

Scott stood. He was torn. Part of him wanted to leave Eric right there on that rock and never look back. Another part of him didn't want to leave his friend alone and in pain. They had known each other since third grade. They'd been through a lot together over the past twenty years; actually, quite a bit more than Scott had previously realized, as it turned out. 

He wondered how they'd arrived at this place and time. 

He was somewhat surprised to find himself wondering whatever had happened to Judy Watson, rather than imagining what his life would've been with Melissa. He was nearly as surprised by the feelings of loss he found in considering the end to what he had thought of as his pro forma romance with Lisa. Maybe he loved her after all? For a moment, Scott turned away from hope and looked toward a future that ended alone and without love. Happily ever after had never seemed so far away as it did in that moment.

How had he not known, after all these years, who Eric really was? He smiled as he thought maybe Eric was the alien, the Grey, collecting people for a time, and then tossing them away. Lost time. My whole life has been lost time, Scott thought.

"Fuck you, Eric," Scott said. "I'm going home."

He turned and began to leave. "Scott, wait!" Eric called after him.

Scott stopped, turned and said, "We're done, Eric." He paused and laughed. "And you know what? You losing everything - Melissa, your home, your son, your job - that's the best punchline to the worst joke I've heard in a long, long time."

"I suppose crashing at your place is out of the question?" Eric asked.

"Yeah," Scott said. "Delete my number."

"What?" Eric said, forcing a smile. "You're breaking up with me?"

"We were never friends," Scott said. "Or I should say, you were never my friend." He shrugged. "And now I'm not yours." He turned again to leave.

"You ever wonder why none of your girlfriends ever told you they slept with me?" Eric called out to him.

Scott looked back over his shoulder. "I assume they felt ashamed."

*****

When Scott got back to their camp he found Jimmy and Paul waiting for him.

"You didn't find him?" Paul asked. 

"No, I found him," Scott said. "He's down by the lake."

"And?" Jimmy asked.

"And I'm leaving," Scott said.

"What?" Jimmy asked.

"I'm coming with you," Paul said.

"What's going on?" Jimmy asked. "What happened with you and Eric? You didn't kill him? I mean, I'm sure it was self defense."

"You found out about Eric and Lisa, and Linda, and Ronnie," Paul said.

"Eric and Lisa, and Linda, and Ronnie?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes," Scott said to Paul. "You knew? You didn't tell me?"

"Wait! Eric and Lisa, and Linda, and Ronnie?" Jimmy asked again.

"It's not like it's an easy conversation to have. I mean, what was I supposed to say?" Paul said. "Did you know that Lisa, Linda, and Ronnie all have a penis in common? And it isn't yours? Well, it's yours, too, of course, but, you see what I'm saying, don't you? And you and Lisa seemed, you know, happy."

"Happy?" Jimmy said. "You think Scott and Lisa are happy?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm perfectly happy with Lisa?" Scott asked, with as much conviction as his exhausted heart could muster.

"How many times have you and Lisa been mistaken for brother and sister?" Jimmy asked.

"I don't -" Scott began. Jimmy cut him off.

"Three times that I recall," Jimmy said. "Three times when I was an actual witness. How many other times when I wasn't around? That's the Scott and Lisa vibe. It isn't true, she's-the-one, romantic love. It isn't 'find someone who looks at you like Scott and Lisa look at each other.' It's 'they seem like brother and sister.'"

"Which is kind of creepy, if you think about it that way," Paul said.

"Neither one of you is getting invited to the wedding," Scott said.

"What? You didn't -" Jimmy began. Paul completed the thought.

"Propose?" Paul asked.

"No," Scott said.

"Good," Jimmy said. "Because she cheated on you with Eric."

"I believe we've covered that," Scott said. They were quiet for a moment. "Let's get out of here."

"You just want to leave Eric out here alone?" Paul asked. "I mean, I can understand, but -"

"Don't worry, man. The Greys would never take Eric," Jimmy said. "Well, they might, but they would never keep him."

"It's only about a mile into the village," Scott said as he opened the truck door. "He can walk out." He got in behind the wheel and grabbed the keys from behind the visor. "You coming with me or not?" Scott asked, and turned the key in the ignition.

*****

They drove in silence for a while. Scott's mind was reeling through the years, the relationships, the beginnings, the endings, with the prospect of one more ending waiting for him when he got home. His thoughts returned to his own personal age of innocence and Judy Watson.

"You ever think about the one that got away?" Scott asked.

"You mean Melissa?" Jimmy asked.

"No," Scott said. "I was actually thinking about a girl I had a crush on in middle school."

"The girl on the bus," Paul said.

"What?" Scott asked.

"The girl on the bus," Paul repeated. "I was heading back to college for my sophomore year, taking the C&J down to Durham, and when I got on the bus I saw this cute girl. Short hair, freckles, blue eyes. She was knitting or crocheting or something and when she looked up at me as I walked down the aisle I was smitten. I sat down a few rows back and hoped she was going to UNH, too. Three or four times, I looked up and caught her looking at me between the seats and each time I caught her, she would look away. I just couldn't work up the courage to walk over and ask if I could sit next to her, to say, 'Hi, my name is Paul'. We got to Durham, I got off the bus, but she didn't. It was the first, last, and only time I ever saw her."

"Sorry, man." Scott said.

"Don't be," Paul said. "Here's the thing. Every girl I dated after that was competing with this idealized version of my one, true love; a girl I never spoke to, let alone dated or kissed. When I inevitably broke up with them, I blamed them. They weren't the girl on the bus. But it was all my fault, of course, and I look back now and think, how many times have I thrown away a chance at happiness?"

"Well, there was Claire," Jimmy said. "She was nice. And Emily. You probably didn't deserve her, so, that's at least two."

"It was a rhetorical question," Paul said.

"So, what?" Scott asked. "You think the idea of romantic love is a con?"

"No," Jimmy said. "Not exactly. It's just the idea that it's easy, that there's one person who will be everything for you, that you'll live in a castle and never grow old, that it's happily ever after, all of that is a con. Trust me. Love is more like an LLC. You've got a partner and you need to make it work, you need to invest, to compromise, you need to accept the imperfections. Love is hard work, but it's worth it."

"Maybe you're not an idiot," Paul said.

"Scott, if you're going to break up with Lisa, I get it," Paul said. "Her sleeping with Eric is definitely a deal-breaker. But don't break up with her because of some middle school crush that never was. If you don't love Lisa enough to make things work, then do both of you a favor and end it. But don't think it will be all sunshine and roses with the next girl you meet."

"Just don't introduce her to Eric," Paul said. 

There was a beat of silence and then they all laughed.

"What are you going to do?" Jimmy asked.

Scott took a breath. He let it out slowly. Did he love Lisa enough, as Paul had put it? He looked back in the heart-shaped box and was relieved to find it was still there. Hope. "I'm going home."