“True. Do you know when you’re going to see himagain?”
“Tomorrow night. Claire asked to see him.” Just the thought of having dinner with Isaac sends my stomach into a tightly wound ball ofnerves.
Britt taps her index finger on the center of her bottom lip. “Don’t lose sight of your dream just yet, Aubrey. You may get that happily everafter.”
“I don’t dream of happily ever after, Britt. You know that. It’s not in the cards for me. It never has been.” Yearning for something impossible isfoolish.
“You’reridiculous.”
“I’mrealistic.”
“Is this where I’m supposed to say something like ‘Open yourself up to love’spossibilities’?”
“Pleasedon’t.”
Britt studies me. Her lips pull and twitch like she wants to saysomething.
“What?”
“Of all the hospitals in all the towns, you walk intohis…”
I throw up my hands. “No more Casablanca for you. And no more romanticizing this. It’s coincidence. That’s all. Make it into a math problem.” I hold out my hands, gesturing with my left first. “In Phoenix there are x-number of orthopedic surgeons who do pediatrics and y-number of children who need surgery. Your answer is the likelihood each child has of ending up with each surgeon.Done.”
“Call it a math problem if it helps you make sense of everything.” She pats my shoulder. “Do what Aubrey needs to do to get throughit.”
“I need a subject change, please. This development in my life has been stuck on a loop in my mind, and I need to talk about somethingelse.”
We discuss Britt’s parents and their move to a new house better suited for being empty nesters, but I’m only partially listening. Britt’s words struck a nerve.Do what Aubrey needs to do to get throughit.
Is there something else I’m supposed to bedoing?
* * *
The butterfliesin my stomach have increased throughout the day, growing and stretching, until I wonder if their wings are made ofacid.
Work was hell. I sat at my desk and pictured all the disastrous endings this dinner will probablyhave.
I’m sure he’s bringing his fiancée. He didn’t mention it, but why wouldn’t he? It has to happen oneday.
Stopped at a red light, I poke my fingers through my gold hoop earrings, fiddle with the shoe strap around my ankle, check my lipstick in the rearview mirror, look back at Claire. We’re almost to therestaurant.
Isaac called earlier this afternoon and offered to pick us up, but when I asked him if he had a car seat, helaughed.
“Right,” he’d said. “I’d better get one ofthose.”
Then he asked if Claire would like to go to an upscale arcade, a place with a bowling alley, billiards room, andrestaurant.
When I asked him about her ability to play one-armed, he laughed again. Apparently, Isaac thinks this whole situation is great. He spends every moment of his life smiling or laughing. It bafflesme.
I pull into a spot, get out, and unbuckle Claire. She hops out with a wide grin on herface.
“Is he here yet?” Her shiny eyes hold no reservation. She’s one hundred percent excited, one hundred percent happy, one hundred percent intoIsaac.
“Let’s go find out.” I offer her my hand and she takesit.
We find Isaac waiting out front for us. And he’salone.
“Hello, ladies.” Isaac bends down and slaps a high five with Claire. He straightens and looks at me. His lips form a line until a slow opening in the center makes them peel apart. His eye dance with unspokenwords.
