“You still think he’s your Mr. Right, don’t you?” Ellen asked, not trying to hide her exasperation.
Rae wanted to deny it so Ellen would get off her back, but she hated lying to her best friend and knew Ellen would see through it anyway. Relenting to the truth, or at least the watered-down version, she said, in a quieter voice, “I just—I guess I think there’s still a chance. Never say never and all that.”
“Never,” Ellen said, with fierce firmness, “get serious with someone with mental health issues. It’s the biggest red flag.”
“Very empathetic of you,” Rae replied coolly, regretting her choice to open up.
“It’s one thing if you’re only evaluating him as a friend,” Ellen said. “But as anything more … I mean, why would you knowingly choose to love someone who can’t even love himself?”
Rae swallowed the words in one gulp, so she wouldn’t have to chew on them, and she felt them drop into her stomach. “You don’t choose love,” she said, with a defiant sort of pride. “Love chooses you.”
The statement felt as firm as fact. Loving Dustin wasn’t a choice, not a conscious action but a subliminal attraction. That was what cast such an enchantment over it. She didn’t feel like explaining this to Ellen, nor listing off the reasons why she and Dustin would be together in the end. Ellen wouldn’t understand the ins and outs and ups and downs of Dustin’s days and how it wouldn’t always be this way.
Ellen had the same bags under her eyes that Rae felt under her own. They were both exhausted, Ellen from perpetual jet lag from the West Coast project she was staffed on, Rae from working long nights for a deal with an “accelerated timeline,” as they were both also searching for new jobs so they could break this tired-stuck-tired-stuck cycle. The prospect ofSaturdayhad been the only thing getting them through, and neither one of them wanted to waste it fighting.
“Buy the painting, then,” Ellen said, resigned.
“Are you kidding?” Rae said, lowering her voice so the merchant wouldn’t hear. “I’m stubborn, not insane. I’ll order something from Amazon at a quarter of the price.”
Ellen nearly smiled, that smile Rae wasn’t seeing enough of these days, between work and Aaron.
“Time for Percy’s Pizza?” Rae asked, trying to keep the positive momentum going by making an offer she knew Ellen couldn’t refuse.
“Aaron’s taking me to dinner in a couple hours,” Ellen said.
“So?” Rae said. “Pizza is the perfect predate appetizer. Coat the stomach with carbs before you start drinking.”
“All right, let’s do it,” Ellen grumbled, succumbing to the sense of it or maybe just the soul of it. “I haven’t been there in ages—two whole weeks at least.”
They walked north to their beloved pizza joint at the corner of Bleeker and MacDougal. Percy’s Pizza was a true slice of New York, Rae thought, proud of the pun. It was one of those cash-onlyhole-in-the-wall family-owned businesses where you could still find a bargain. Famous for its dollar slices, it had recently had to raise prices to keep up with inflation and had painted over the$1with a$2on the big red sign out front. Rooting for Percy to survive amid all the big corporate chains, Rae considered it a moral imperative to patronize the place whenever she could.
At the counter, she ordered a margherita slice, paying for it in laundry quarters since she hadn’t gotten around to withdrawing cash from the ATM. Ellen opted for the four-cheese and proceeded to shake a small mountain of Parmesan on top of her bubbling slice when it came out of the oven.
“Have enough cheese on there?” Rae asked as they grabbed a fistful of napkins.
“Not quite,” Ellen said. “But it’ll suffice.”
The thin-crust, triangular slices were so large they flopped off the edge of their paper plates. There was no space to sit inside, and both of them felt strongly that Percy’s Pizza deserved too much respect to be eaten while walking, so they sat down on the curb and ate on the side of MacDougal Street.
“Now this is the glamorous life I always pictured for myself,” Ellen said, mopping the grease off her pizza with some napkins as an angry cyclist whizzed by, dinging his bell at them for daring to step a toe into his personal territory.
“It’s the authentic New York experience,” Rae said with a grin as she wiped stringy cheese from her chin. “Not to be missed.”
“All right, let’s get home so we don’t have to shower under ice water,” Ellen said, after they’d devoured every last crumb.
It was always a gamble on weekends if the water at the penthouse would achieve anything higher than lukewarm status after midafternoon.
“You can go in first,” Rae said. “Since you’re the one with the date later.”
“Nah, you can go,” Ellen said. “You need it more.”
“I’m pretty sure that was an insult.”
“Just take the damn offer.”
“All right, I’ll be quick. It’s not like I have to shave my legs or anything.”
“Ah, the perks of single life.”
