The Second-Hand Store

“This is the guy you picked up at Poco’s Friday night? The guy you ditched me for?” Kathy asked. 

“Yes,” Sarah said. 

"You had great sex, he made you breakfast the next morning - French toast - and then you dumped him?" Kathy asked. 

"I didn't dump him," Sarah said. "We weren't dating. It was just a hook up."

"You dumped him," Kathy said. “Wait! You had eggs?”

Sarah shrugged. "It was a mistake. And yes, I had eggs. I have eggs.”

"No," Kathy said. "I just can’t believe you have eggs. Or milk. Or bread. Or whatever else goes into French toast." She pulled a piece of pepperoni off her pizza and ate it. "You aren't still thinking about Stan, are you?"

Sarah flushed. "Yes."

"Look, I get it," Kathy said. "Stan is a beautiful man. He’s like the lost Hemsworth brother. The paragon of masculinity. He's practically a work of art, a statue, perfect in every dimension." She paused. "And he'll probably be CEO in five years, but hey, good looks and money isn't everything, is it?"

"No," Sarah said. "But they're everything else."

Kathy and Sarah had been friends since college and met regularly for lunch as their post-college ambitions had landed both of them jobs in Boston. It was Kathy’s week to choose the venue and they had met at The Brick, her favorite pizza place. 

"He's engaged. To Linda,” Sarah said. “He told people at work on Monday."

"Ah!" Kathy said. "So, that's why you hooked up with this guy, Jeff?"

"James," Sarah said.

"But it was just, like, rebound slash revenge sex," Kathy said.

"Yes. Something like that. I knew this guy had a crush on me and I wanted to feel pretty," Sarah said. Her sadness took an unexpected turn to anger. "You're not judging me, are you?"

"No, no; not at all," Kathy said. "Okay. Yes. A little. Is this guy Jeff friends with Stan? Because yeah, I'd definitely do that."

"No," Sarah said. "I mean, they both work at Scalar but I don't think they even know each other."

"So this guy Jeff -"

"James," Sarah corrected.

"James," Kathy acknowledged, "He works with you at Scalar. Have I met this guy?"

"No," Sarah said. "My marketing team works with the data science team on projects and I know him from that."

Kathy nodded. "What's he like? I mean, who would play him in the movie?"

Sarah thought about it. "A young Tom Hanks. Skinny. Crazy hair. Good cheekbones."

"Really?" Kathy asked. "Tom Hanks? Interesting."

"Why 'interesting'?" Sarah asked.

"Because you look like Meg Ryan," Kathy said. "Are you sure a rom-com isn't writing itself here?"

"Don't be stupid," Sarah said. "I told you it was nothing. Besides, you look like Anne Hathaway, but I don't see you marrying Batman any time soon. Why are you so interested, anyway?"

"I was just wondering, you know… Great sex and French toast. You're sure that was a mistake? I mean, you're sure it's over between you and this guy?"

"Yes, it's over," Sarah said. "It was never on. I'm sorry I mentioned it. Can we talk about anything else, please?"

"Do you really think I look like Anne Hathaway?" Kathy asked.

Sarah paused. "Maybe more Rachel Weisz than Anne Hathaway," she said. "You really think I look like Meg Ryan?"

"You could be sisters," Kathy said. They were quiet for a moment. "Maybe you could introduce us? Lunch next week? There’s a Panera near your office. Or just give me his number?" Kathy suggested.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked.

"You know I haven't had any French toast in more than six months," Kathy said. “I’d settle for a short stack of pancakes at this point.”

“I have no idea how I’d make that happen and I don’t have his number,” Sarah said. “I told you it was just a one night stand.”

“Give me his work number, then,” Kathy said. “Why are you French toast blocking me?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah said. “He didn’t seem like, I don’t know… I mean he said he was okay but I could tell he was hurt -”

“When you dumped him?” 

“Yes, when I dumped him,” Sarah said. “Pretty sure he was hoping it was something it wasn’t.”

“Duh!” Kathy said. “He made you breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Sarah said. “I felt like I was kicking a puppy in the nuts.”

"Wait," Kathy said. "After you kicked him out you ate the French toast, didn't you?"

Sarah sighed. "Yes."

"How was it?" Kathy asked.

"Really good," Sarah admitted.

*****

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked the man in her kitchen.

"Just cleaning up," James said as he put a washed spatula in the dishrack. "I made some French toast. The eggs were a little past their best if used by date but I think that's really more of a guideline than a rule, don't you?" He smiled. "And luckily enough, stale bread makes the best French toast."

"Look," Sarah said.

"James," he said.

"I know your name," Sarah said.

"Sorry," James said. "I didn't mean -"

"If I gave you the wrong impression about last night, I'm sorry, but this… It wasn't this. It isn't this," she said, gesturing at the plates and silverware on the kitchen table. "I just needed to get laid. I'm not looking to start a new relationship. You were just… convenient."

"Oh. Yeah, no, of course, I'm sorry," James said. "And I'm sorry I keep saying I'm sorry. So. I should go, right?"

"Yes," Sarah said. "Wait!" She paused. "As far as work goes, this never happened, okay? We're just co-workers, just like before, just like none of this ever happened. Okay?"

"Okay." He nodded. "Well, thanks for last night."

She made a face. James knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"I didn't mean…" He sighed. "Sorry."

"So am I," she said.

"Goodbye, Sarah," he said, and left.

*****

James found the Good Will next to the Full Count craft brew pub in Cambridge an irresistible lure on sunny Saturday afternoons. He had a fatal weakness for vintage bowling shirts, bacon cheeseburgers, and high octane IPAs. One stop shopping.

You never knew what you’d find in a second-hand store. It was like looking for buried treasure in that you came up empty-handed more often than not. Either way, he would celebrate or find consolation in a cold one, a burger, and - as advertised on their menu - the "somewhat famous" portobello fries at Full Court after shopping.

Today he’d been lucky. He had two shirts in hand when his luck took that left hand turn in Albuquerque. He saw Sarah as she entered the Good Will. For a moment he was elated to see the woman he had imagined would be the love of his life, but the devastating reality of last Saturday morning followed close behind. It had been a week and he thought he had talked himself out of Sarah. His head had moved on but apparently his heart had not. He decided to cut his shopping short and check out before having a uncomfortably polite conversation with Sarah. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop himself from looking her way and inevitably caught her looking back. He looked away a bit too obviously then and focused his attention on the clerk at the checkout.

As he left the store Sarah was waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“Hello James,” she said. 

“Oh, uh, hi, uh,” James stammered. 

“Sarah,” she said. 

“Yes, of course, Sarah,” James said. “You just surprised me.”

“You saw me inside,” Sarah said. 

“That’s when you surprised me,” James said, hoping with little confidence that his smile was casual, cool, and just a little self-deprecating.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Sarah said. “Let me buy you a bacon cheeseburger?”

James realized he had said way too much about himself a week ago, but he supposed it was unavoidable when you’ve had three-ish margaritas (math was a tricky business even for him when alcohol was involved) and you’ve turned into a thirteen-year old boy trying to impress that girl you’ve got a crush on but never had the courage to ask to the dance. 

"Why?" James asked.

"I feel like I owe you an apology," Sarah said.

"You don't," James said. "Really. Thanks for the lunch invite but I actually have some things to -"

"You won't even hear me out?" Sarah asked.

James hesitated. "I really have some things to do -"

"Really? Things to do?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," James said.

"Seriously," Sarah said. "Things to do."

He realized that he really hadn't moved on, or at least, he hadn't gotten far enough away from that Saturday morning yet; he felt like he was going to cry. "Look, I think you're still in love with Stan, and I really have to go."

She stepped in front of him. "Last Saturday, you made it pretty clear you were interested in me. Now you won't even talk to me?"

"Last Saturday, you made it pretty clear you were not interested in me. You said, and I believe I'm quoting, you only wanted to get laid, and while my penis would like to thank you again for that -"

"Your penis would like to thank me?" Sarah said with obvious disdain.

"You said it was just sex. I believe you also said you weren't interested in starting a relationship with me and that you hoped we'd go back to just being co-workers, you know, co-workers on a first name basis at best. And I'm cool with that."

"You're cool with that?" Sarah asked.

"Okay. My coolness is aspirational. I'm working on being cool with that," James said. "I don't see how -"

"We are going to talk," Sarah said. "Now or later, but we are going to have this conversation."

James could not make out what his amygdala was screaming at him but it was not helpful; it was hard to think but he couldn't deny the growing feeling that this wasn't a love story any more. Maybe it never was or only was in his head, but instead of saying no again he decided it was best to get it - whatever this was - over with; it was ending badly, best it end sooner rather than later. He looked down at the package of shirts in his hand. He was giving them a second chance. "All right," James said. "Let's get a burger."

*****

Sarah noticed the waitress checking her out, then smiling at James as she took their order.

After the waitress left, Sarah asked. "What was that all about?"

"What?" James asked.

"The waitress," Sarah said.

"Judy," James said.

"Judy?" Sarah asked.

"I'm a regular," James said. "It's just polite. Her name isn't Waitress."

"Something going on with you and Judy?" Sarah asked.

James laughed. "I think she was surprised to see me with a woman. Pretty sure she thought I was gay, you know, given my keen fashion sense. That and the fact that you're the first woman I've ever brought in here."

"She thought the vintage bowling shirts were a tell?" Sarah asked.

James shrugged. "It was just a joke."

"Aren't jokes supposed to be funny?" she said with a smile that broke his heart again. He had ripped the bandaid off only to find another bandaid.

"So, you wanted to say something to me?" James said.

"Yeah," Sarah said. "Okay." She took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm sorry about last Saturday."

"It's really okay," James said.

"Please," Sarah said. 

"Sorry," James said.

"You do say that a lot, don't you?" Sarah noted.

"Yeah," James said. "I'm not good with conflict. I should probably seek therapy."

"Another joke?" Sarah asked.

"Maybe," James said.

She smiled, then gathered herself. "Anyway, I knew you had a crush on me. I was selfish and took advantage of the feelings you had for me so I could forget, just for a little while, all of the sadness and regret in my life. I didn't think for a second about you or what you were feeling. It's been bugging me all week. I've never thought of myself as a bad person but… I treated you like you didn't matter and I am sorry for that," Sarah said.

"Thank you," James said, his voice cracking. He couldn't think of what to say. He cleared his throat. The silence became uncomfortable. "So, how's the BART project going?"

"Really?" Sarah said. "That's your response? How's the BART project going?"

"I was just trying to start a casual conversation, you know, as friends do," James said. "I mean, as co-workers on a first name basis do. I thought that's what you wanted."

"Yes, I did, I mean, I do, but a minute ago I thought you were going to cry," Sarah said. "I'm not judging. I think it's great you're in touch with your feelings.”

“Really? That really didn’t really sound like a compliment,” James said. 

Sarah hesitated. Indeed, she had not meant it as a compliment. “It was,” she said, “an observation.”

“Okay,” James said. 

"Okay," Sarah said. "So how do you get from the verge of tears to 'How's the BART project going?'"

"Well," James said. "I've had some time to work on my feelings and -"

"It's been one week!" Sarah said.

He nodded. He wanted to say, It was only one night, but that would've been a lie. It had been much more than that for him. "Yeah. Okay. I've been working on my feelings, but it's just been a week and no, I'm not over you. Yet. It's a process. I'll get there in four to eight weeks." He shrugged. "You're not over Stan." She didn't deny it. He smiled. "How is the BART project going?"

"It's a total shit-show and you know it," Sarah said.

James nodded. Another uncomfortable pause in the conversation passed. "Have you heard that new Ariana Grande song?" he asked. "I'm totally obsessed. But then, I've always been a fool for synth pop."

"You don't think I'm over Stan?" Sarah asked.

"No, I don't," James said. "It's going to take more than a one-night stand with some convenient guy and I think you know that. Maybe Stan was the love of your life and you'll never get over him. Maybe you'll spend the next three to five years waiting and hoping Stan's marriage to Linda ends in divorce." He paused. "Beyond the three to five year horizon, it's hard to make predictions with any real confidence."

"You think it's going to take me five years to get over Stan?" Sarah asked, a bit defensively.

"Well, it could be as little as three years and I didn't mean you, specifically. I've done some analysis on the durability of emotional context; it's sort of a variation on the brand loyalty studies we did last year and well, yeah. As I recall, you and Stan dated for a year and a half. Given that, the physical and emotional intimacy, plus his pending nuptials to Linda, which could be seen as a betrayal, plus proximity to the object of desire… I mean, there are always outliers, but, yeah; three to five years."

"You can't measure emotions with a computer," Sarah said.

"You wouldn't think so, but, as it turns out, a thousand Monte Carlo simulations don't lie, even when we lie to ourselves," James said.

"Wait! It's going to take three years minimum for me to get over Stan but it will only take you four weeks to get over me?" Sarah asked.

"You don't think I didn't run the numbers?" James asked.

"You knew I'd pick you up?" Sarah asked.

James smiled. "I'm good with numbers but I'm not that good. I was going to ask you out on a date. Dinner. Maybe a club with live music. Maybe a movie." He shrugged. "I'm more of a third date kind of guy when it comes to sex. I know that's something of a cliche but I have to get to know the person at least a little bit before I can feel comfortable enough to get naked in front of them - and nobody wants to wake up to bedroom walls covered in Nazi memorabilia - but I let my heart talk me into it. Also, I knew you from work so I felt pretty good about what I'd deal with in terms of bedroom decor. Honestly, I'd never done anything like that before. Picked up a girl in a bar -"

"I picked you up," Sarah said.

James nodded. "Okay. You picked me up. That had never happened to me before, either. Anyway, you were drunk and I  should’ve said no.”

“I wasn’t drunk. You were drunk,” Sarah said. 

James paused the way people do before they tell a hard truth. “I wanted it to be something more even though I knew it wasn't." He smiled sadly. "I wasn’t that drunk. Okay, maybe I was. I shouldn't have made French toast; not on a first date, if I can call it that. I just wanted us to feel like a couple, not…"

"Fuck buddies?" Sara asked.

James winced, ever so slightly. "I see why you're in marketing." She smiled. "What exactly is it that you do on the marketing team?"

"I'm a copywriter," she said. "I write the blurbs, slogans, taglines for print ads. Torturing the English language into a confession of 14 words or less. Some of my stuff has wound up in our TV ads."

"I don't know how I missed the fuck buddies campaign," James said.

"You know that print ad with the puppy and the kitten?" Sarah asked.

James laughed. "So, you're an author," he said. "Impressive."

Sarah laughed. "I'm probably the opposite of whatever an author is."

"Brevity, I've heard, is the soul of wit," James said.

"But not the heart," Sarah said. They were quiet again. "So, we're going to be co-workers on a first name basis, then?"

"There's a good chance," James said. 

"You ran those numbers, too?" Sarah asked.

James smiled. "You said you knew I had a crush on you. When did you figure it out?"

"I didn't," Sarah said. "You know Erica, right?"

"Yes," James said. "The tall redhead who wears her glasses on her head."

"She told me," Sarah said.

"How did she figure it out?" James asked.

"She's our expert on audience response. She's fond of saying that we communicate as much with our body as we do with words. Gestures. Facial expression. Eye contact. Avoiding eye contact. Pupil dilation. Involuntary responses," Sarah said. "She said she knew right away but didn't say anything to me until after I dumped Stan."

"Why did you dump Stan, anyway?" James asked.

"He cheated on me," Sarah said. "With Linda."

"And three months later they're engaged," James said. "Ouch."

"Yeah," Sarah said. "Ouch."

"Look, I'm sorry I'm not the guy for you, I truly am, but you must realize Stan isn't the guy for you, either. You deserve to be happy and I don't see how -"

"What makes you think I deserve to be happy?" Sarah asked.

James hesitated. "What makes you think you don't?" he asked. "Look, I don't know Stan but in a way, I do. The fact that he cheated on you tells me everything I need to know. He isn't a good guy. You think Linda was the first time he cheated on you? The probability -"

"What?" Sarah asked, shocked by the obvious question. "Who - What are you saying?"

"You should move on. You need to move on," James said

"I have," Sarah said. "I don't care what your numbers say."

"It wasn't my name that you called out in what I hope was a moment of passion last Friday night," James said.

"I… I was with Stan for a while," she said. "It was just… reflex. Sorry."

James smiled. "It's okay. I knew your heart was broken. You were broken. I wanted to make it all better but I knew there was really nothing I could do." He searched for the right thing to say. "But if all you needed was someone to hold you, well, I'd do that for you…" She was looking at him like he had a bug on his face. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked. She felt her face flush as she remembered him holding her and hoped James wouldn't notice in the low light of the dining room.

Their food arrived. Sarah saw Judy wink at James, who smiled back. After Judy left, James noticed the bemused look on Sarah's face. 

"What was that all about?" Sarah asked.

"What?" James said. 

"The wink," Sarah said.

"Oh, that." He looked over at the bar where Judy was standing. She smiled back at him. "Yeah. She thinks we're in love. I wouldn't want to ruin that for her." 

Sarah smiled a crazy smile. Curiosity tilted James’ face and narrowed his eyes. She threw her glass of water in his face then and stood up, stifling a laugh before shouting loudly enough for Judy and everyone else in the Full Court to hear, "Give me your phone, you jerk!"

Confused and wet, James complied.

She punched in her phone number as she said, "Never - never - call me again!"

Sarah tossed the phone in James' lap, and did her best version of storming out of the room.

*****

"I'm thinking of keeping him," Sarah said.

"Keeping him?" Kathy said, with a disapproving tone.

"I mean," Sarah said, "I changed my mind about him."

"So," Kathy said. "No French toast for me, then?"

Sarah smiled. "Sorry. No. No French toast for you."

"Have to say, I got my hopes up when you suggested Panera's," Kathy said. "I did ask you to bring him along, after all, the next time we ate here. I thought I finally had a good reason to eat a salad."

"I believe I told you I wasn't going to do that," Sarah said.

"What changed your mind?" Kathy asked. "I mean, besides the great sex and the delicious French toast."

*****

"Hello," James said.

"James," Sarah said. "I didn't think you'd call."

"You put your number in my phone," James said. "And you didn't think I'd call?"

"No," Sarah said. "You had a crush on me for almost a year and a half and never said a word." 

"You were with someone else," James said.

"Someone you didn't think was right for me, somebody you didn't think was a good guy, and yet, you never made a move to rescue me from the clutches of that bad, bad man," Sarah said.

"You don't strike me as the kind of person that needs to be rescued," James said.

"Okay. But three months after I'd broken up with Stan, you still hadn't said a word to me, let alone asked me out on a date," Sarah said.

"Fair point," James said. "So, why did you throw a glass of water in my face?"

"You said you wanted to get to know me," Sarah said. 

"I don't think I said -" James began.

"It's what you meant," Sarah said.

"Yeah, okay," James said. "So, you're the kind of woman who will throw a glass of water in a man's face."

"In public," she said. "If he deserves it."

"I deserved it?" James said. "What did I do to deserve it?"

"I believe you have all the data you need, if you'd like to run the numbers," Sarah said. "Maybe you'll figure it out in a thousand Monte Carlo simulations. Call me back when you figure -"

"Wait! Maybe I should start over," James said.

"Maybe you should," Sarah said.

"Hi, Sarah. This is James. From work," James said.

"I know who you are," Sarah said.

"I was wondering, would you like to go out with me this Friday? I mean, if you're not busy," James said.

"No, I'm not busy Friday," Sarah said. "What do you have in mind?"

"Do you like surprises?" James asked.

*****

"Bowling?" Sarah asked.

"You thought the shirts were a fashion statement?" James asked.

"I was just thinking taking a girl bowling was a bold move for a first date," Sarah said. "What if I hate bowling?"

"Well, that's definitely the kind of thing a person who loves bowling - and bowling shirts - would want to know about another person as soon as possible when considering a lifetime commitment," James said, almost immediately regretting the implied proposal. "Besides, nobody hates candlepins. It's the perfect activity. It doesn't require anything even remotely related to athleticism. Nobody's really any good at it. I mean, you get three tries in each frame. Even the game knows you can't win. It's just fun."

"Fun? Well, we'll see about that," Sarah said, but she was already enjoying herself. It caught her a little by surprise. She was having fun. It had been a while.

"Let's get some shoes," he said as he led her to the counter.

The very large but neatly kept man behind the counter greeted them. "Yo, Jimmy Jam, my man! How you rollin' tonight? Is this the lovely lady you told me about?"

"Hey, Bobby," James said. "Yes, this is Sarah."

"Welcome to Bowl n Brew. It's nice to finally meet you," Bobby said. "You look like a size 8 shoe. Am I right?"

"Yes," Sarah said. "That's right."

"I really should've run away to the circus when I was a kid," Bobby said as he plunked the shoes down on the counter.

"Isn't size 8 the most common shoe size for women?" James asked.

"Houdini would've hated you," Bobby said with a smile.

"You have that package I left with you?" James asked.

"Right here," Bobby said, putting a small package wrapped in blue tissue paper bound up by a thin white ribbon on the counter. "You can change in the Ladies Room," he said to Sarah, gesturing with a nod of his head to the bathrooms.

"You bought me a shirt?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," James said.

She returned from the Ladies Room in a garish red and yellow shirt that at first glance skewed more Waikiki than bowling alley. She had noted the embroidered "Sarah" above the left pocket when she took it out of the wrapping paper and then caught her face in the mirror over the sink. She had thought, Maybe I do look like Meg Ryan.

"It looks good on you," James said.

"Thanks," Sarah said. "I think." She looked up and down the alleys. "Hard not to feel like everyone is looking at me, wondering where the fire is."

"Indeed," James said. "One of life's eternal questions."

Sarah looked at him sideways. "I don't think we're talking about the same thing."

James smiled. "Let's bowl."

After a few frames, Sarah said, "Let me ask you something."

"Okay," James said.

"The guy we got our shoes from -"

"Bobby," James said. He turned to look back at Bobby, and held up two fingers. Bobby nodded.

"Bobby," Sarah noted. "Bobby said, 'It's nice to finally meet you.' As in, you've been talking about me for a while. I guess you're a regular here, too?"

"I'm in a league with a couple of guys I knew in college, so, yeah, I guess you'd call me a regular," James said.

She waited a moment before saying, "Finally?"

"Oh. Yeah," James said. "I think maybe he got sick of listening to me talk about you over the last year or so. Bobby tends the bar when he isn't checking out shoes. I may have mentioned you while crying into my beer one or two or a trillionty times."

“A trillionty?” Sarah asked. "That's a statistical term, is it?"

“Okay,” James said. “It was closer to a billionty.”

Bobby arrived with two bottles of Sam Adams.

"Thanks, Bobby," James said.

"No problem," Bobby said and turned to leave.

"Bobby?" Sarah asked. 

Stopping, Bobby said, "Yes?"

"May I ask you a question?"

"I believe you just did," Bobby said with a grin.

Sarah smiled in return. "Well, here's another one. How do I compare to the woman that James has been talking to you about for the last year?"

Bobby looked at James. James shrugged.

Bobby smiled. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

"Shakespeare?" Sarah said.

"What?" Bobby said in mock offense. "A man can't love bowling and Shakespeare?" To James he added, "She is more lovely than you described but I'm not so sure she's what you'd call temperate."

"Oh, I'm definitely not temperate," Sarah said.

Bobby laughed. "She's everything you said she was, Jimmy Jam." He winked at Sarah. "And more."

"Why do you call him Jimmy Jam?" Sarah asked.

"I'm overly fond of alliteration," Bobby said.

"So, there's no secret meaning behind it?" Sarah asked.

Bobby shrugged. "He's a good guy. He's got a good heart. I like him. So I gave him a nickname."

"You like him," Sarah said, "so you gave him a nickname?"

"I wouldn't waste my time giving a nickname to someone I didn't like. Personally, I think Jimmy Jam captures his true essence." He leaned in, as if sharing a confidence. "I think he's only pretending to be a mathematician."

"Who do you think he really is?" Sarah asked.

Bobby laughed. "It would spoil the ending if I told you. Enjoy your game," he added and with that, he left them to bowl.

*****

“So, how did it go?” Kathy asked. 

“It was fun,” Sarah said. “He took me bowling.”

"Bowling," Kathy said. "Who is this guy?"

Sarah shrugged. "It was fun."

“And?” Kathy asked. 

“And nothing,” Sarah said. “He wanted to start over, like a first date. We kissed good night. That was it.”

“You’re making it almost impossible for me to have a sex life vicariously through you. You know that, don’t you?” Kathy said. “Was there tongue, at least?”

“Don’t make it dirty,” Sarah said, suppressing a giggle. 

“Oh my god,” Kathy said. "You’re in love with this guy!”

“I am not,” Sarah protested. “Not after one date.”

“I believe you’re forgetting one crucial plot point in your story,” Kathy said. 

“I didn’t forget,” Sarah said. “I like him.”

“You like-like him,” Kathy teased. 

Sarah paused. “Maybe.”

“When do I get to meet him?” Kathy asked. 

*****

"My best friend Kathy wants to meet you," Sarah said. 

"Oh," James said. "Seems a little soon for the best friend test, but, okay."

"Best friend test?" Sarah asked. "Is that actually a thing?"

"It's definitely a thing," James said.

"Well, this isn't a test," Sarah said. "She… just wants to meet you."

"Okay," James said. "Sure."

"Lunch at Panera's this Thursday?" Sarah asked.

"Okay," James said.

"We'll meet you there," Sarah said.

*****

Sarah had called to let him know she was stuck in a meeting and would be a few minutes late. She gave James their lunch orders; he had gotten her a salad, a sandwich for Kathy and one for himself and laid claim to a booth not too far from the front door. He realized that he had no idea what Sarah’s friend Kathy looked like, but he figured she’d be easy enough to spot; a young woman looking for someone. She would either spot her someone or if she didn’t, it was probably Sarah’s friend Kathy. 

He was a little surprised by how nervous he felt. 

Sarah arrived, saw him and smiled. She walked over and gestured with the phone in her hand. “Kathy should be here any minute.” She sat. “Thanks for getting lunch.”

“Sure,” James said. “No problem.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah said. “You’re nervous.” She smirked. “You didn’t run the numbers?”

“I’m fine,” James said. 

“You’re like an anxiety pulsar right now,” Sarah said. “A million years from now an alien is going to wonder why whatever they call their ears are itching.”

James heaved a sigh. “Well, you said she was your best friend and -“

“There she is,” Sarah said, waving at a woman who stood just inside the entrance. James turned to look. She waved back. 

“Sarah.”

James looked back to see Stan standing next to their booth. 

Somehow, James thought, Stan looked even taller and more beautiful despite the fact he was already very tall and quite beautiful. James noticed Sarah turn to look at Stan. He saw the look on her face and he knew. 

“Stan,” Sarah said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize,” Stan said. “I made a mistake. I realize that now. I told Linda I can’t marry her because I love you. I love you, Sarah. Please forgive me.”

Sarah fairly leapt into Stan’s arms. They kissed. They kissed for what seemed like a very long time to James. People in the restaurant applauded. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this coming and it would be useless fighting for her. She loved Stan and he had never been in a fight - not even as a kid - so the odds were good he’d wind up body-slammed by Thor into a table in a Panera dining room. 

Sarah looked back at him, her eyes filled with tears but she didn’t say anything. James watched as they walked away. He watched the brief encounter between Sarah and her friend at the entrance. It was impossible to hear what was being said. He turned his attention back to the lunch he was not going to eat. He focused on his breathing and quieting the pounding in his chest. 

“That was hard to watch.”

James looked up. It was Sarah's friend Kathy. "I don't know. The audience seemed to love it."

"I'm Kathy," she said. "Are you okay?"

He pointed at his eyes. "Oh, this?" He cleared his throat. "Allergies."

"Yeah, okay," Kathy said. "I see you ordered lunch. Mind if I…?"

"Please," James said. "I'm sure they'll give you a box -"

"Mind if I sit down?" she asked.

James gestured at the empty bench in the booth. She sat down.

She ate a chip and then asked, "Aren't you eating?"

"Not hungry," he said.

"I am," she said. "I hope you don't mind?"

"Not at all," James said. "Go right ahead."

After a bite of her sandwich, Kathy said, "I have to say, you're taking this pretty well; way better than I would've done."

"Stan was the love of her life." James shrugged. "I was always a longshot."

"Oh, right," Kathy said. "You're a mathematician or something, right?"

James smiled. "Yes, I'm a mathematician or something."

"So your abacus or whatever told you Sarah would get back together with Stan?" Kathy asked.

James sighed. "Something like that. There were more scenarios that ended with Sarah and Stan getting back together than there were happily ever afters for me with Sarah."

"But you still risked your heart breaking," Kathy said. James was quiet. "You're something of a romantic, aren't you? So, you're like the Broody Moody Mathematician? How does that work?" Kathy asked.

"Apparently," James said, "it doesn't work." 

"Maybe it does," Kathy said, giving him a look that made him feel just a little uncomfortable.

"You seem to think you know me," James said.

"You've never had a best friend, have you?" Kathy said. "Someone you shared everything with?"

"No," James admitted.

She nodded. "Okay. So, yeah, I think I know you pretty well." She paused. "I'd tell you that Sarah made a big mistake when she chose Stan over you, but, part of me is glad she did. Well, multiple parts of me, as far as that goes -"

"Look, Kathy," James said. "I appreciate you checking in on me but I really just want to get out of here. Don't worry about the bill, Everything's paid for so, enjoy your lunch -"

"I get it," Kathy said. "This may be the worst moment in your life so far and you want to run away from it but you know you can't run away from a memory. If you leave now, this will always be the worst day of your life." She paused. "Or, you could stay, and it could be a great story we tell our grandchildren someday." 

She smiled and for James it felt like sunshine after rain.

"All right. So you know me pretty well. Tell me something about you," James said.

"That sounds like something you'd say on a first date," Kathy said.

James smiled and it surprised him. "I suppose it is. So. Tell me something about you."

"Well," Kathy said with a sly smile. "I love French toast for breakfast."