Usually, after a breakup, there was some kind of closure. A ritual purge of an apartment. A cry-and-wine session with friends. But a stranger currently occupied my apartment, and my best friend was back on Mackinac. I was tempted to call Joe, to thank him for taking care of me, but the last thing he needed in the middle of a job was me pestering him.
I crumpled my bakery bag and stood. So, here I was, directionless. On my own. I winced. Not exactly the way I’d planned to spend the day. Or my life.
I tossed my trash away. Two bearded men were sitting by the curb, chatting over coffee. Across the street, a woman in a babushka wheeled her shopping cart under a mural of a dancer glowing red and green and lilac. A group of teens peered in the windows of the sari palace.
After a cataclysmic event, you mostly wanted things to go back to the way they were. As if life had not forever, irrevocably changed. But all around me, people were going about their business, completely unaware of my personal problems. Getting on with their lives, making a fresh start. Moving on.
I could, too.
I started walking. One step at a time.
The smells of summer in the city gusted in the air. I took a deep breath, car exhaust and curry, baking bread and sweat, cigarettes and a whiff of sewer. I turned on Western Avenue, where the glass and concrete facade of the library rose like a squared-off spaceship, and went in. I had all day and my library card. I browsed the shelves, my fingers skimming the candy-colored spines. An hour later, I left with a book in mybag (Sophie Kinsella’sLove Your Life, because wasn’t that what I wanted todo?) and strolled past laundromats and auto repair shops to the park.
Green and yellow leaves danced in the wind. There was color and movement everywhere, ducks on the pond and joggers on the paths. Orthodox moms in scarves and long skirts pushed their toddlers on swings. Children shrieked in the sprinkler pool and thundered across the bridges of the play fort.
I found an empty bench dappled in sunshine and lost myself in the story.
Until…Fwap!
“Ow.”
A star-spangled soccer ball rolled in the grass at my feet. A child hovered a few feet away, watching me with wide, wary eyes.
I held out the ball. Smiled. “This must be yours.”
He grinned and grabbed it.
The light had shifted, I realized as he ran away. It must be getting late. My butt was numb. Also, I was starving.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Joe.Done. Going for pizza. Pick u up?
My breathing tripped. I was smiling as I typed back.Where? I’ll meet you.
—
“Thanks for lettingme crash at your place last night,” I said to Kelsey.
I’d found the restaurant without any problem, in spite of my useless phone navigation—a Greek pizzeria with a giant neon cocktail sign out front and sports jerseys on the wall.Five of us crowded around a table intended for four, legs and work boots jostling for space. The noise from the flat-screens over the bar, the smells of garlic and beer, wafted over the dining room. Joe’s shoulder brushed mine, sending tingles down my arm. I tucked my feet under my chair, trying not to intrude more than I had to. Resisting the temptation to lean into him. We were not a couple. Not like James and Elena, Kelsey’s crew across the table. They looked like a Disney couple, him so big and fair, her tiny and dark, the red bandanna in her hair matching the one around his neck. So cute.
Kelsey smiled from her position at the head of the table. “Anytime. Besides, I owe you.”
“Sorry?”
“For Joe being here.”
I blinked. “I don’t…”
“Glad it worked out,” Joe said.
I turned my gaze on him. “You said you had a job down here.”
He looked steadily back. “I did.”
“Which he committed to only after you agreed to come,” Kelsey said.
Wait. What? The server arrived with our order. Joe hooked an arm across the back of my chair, making space for the server to set down the pizzas, creating a sort of triangular shelter. His body was so warm. I could smell him, musky male and sawdust.
I grabbed a slice of bacon-mushroom-garlic and stuffed it in my mouth.
