A Perfect Pair

Again he resisted the urge to glance over to see how she was faring. She’d tell him when they got outside. She kept no secrets from him.

“Next?” the girl at the register snapped, and Nate realized she’d probably had to say it more than once. He dropped the video box on the counter, but just as he went to pay the girl, an enormous clattering sound at the back of the store caused everyone to turn around, including Nate.

There stood Josey, red-faced, sheepish. At her feet was a huge pile of videos, and more were landing on the floor from the now nearly empty shelf beside her hip. As each one dropped, Josey flinched. The elastic that had held the videos in place had somehow caught on her purse strap and snapped, releasing all the boxes. It was still dangling there, next to her elbow.

Nate clapped a hand to his forehead and shook his head slowly. Josey caught his gaze, her own eyes desperate. Then she knelt on the floor and began frantically scooping up boxes.

Nate left his rental on the counter and started to her rescue, but the trench-coated man was suddenly kneeling beside her. Nate stopped in his tracks as the man whispered something in Josey’s ear, and she threw her head back and laughed. Then the two of them began picking up the videos and stacking them.

Nate grabbed the video and his change, turned on his heel and stalked out of the store, ignoring the indignant “Hey!” of the person behind him when he neglected to hold the door open. He leaned against the brick wall and inhaled the fishy smell of the spring breeze, carried from Boston Harbor.

Josey and her new friend seemed to be bonding quite nicely. He’d just wait for her here.

Chapter Four

Nate didn’t see Josey once the next day, but spent the whole day annoyed at her, anyway.

And he had no idea why.

On the way to the Chinese take-out place, Josey had told him about the man in the video store—Mike or Mark or something. As they ripped open cartons of lo mein at her apartment, she’d informed him the guy lived only a few blocks away from them, on Columbus Avenue. And as Nate popped the movie in the VCR and fast-forwarded the previews, she mentioned that Mike or Mark had given her his phone number and they might go out next week.

And with each new casual revelation, Nate had vigorously nodded his head with an enthusiasm that wasn’t genuine.

When he went home, he’d brushed his teeth, hard. Then he’d stripped, dropping clothes all over the spotless bathroom floor. In two strides he was in his bedroom, where he flopped into bed and turned out the light. He’d squinched his eyes shut and forced himself to fall asleep, without any thinking.

But he’d gotten up with the Sunday dawn, a pink-and-gold vision he’d passed up in favor of sleep for many years. He tried to ignore it this time, too, but it rushed through the window underneath the blinds he had forgotten to pull down, and heated his face. He’d sworn under his breath and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

A lousy beginning to a lousy day.

He attempted to concentrate on television, on work, on practicing his golf swing in the living room. On anything but Josey’s voice in his head, sounding pleased about her first prospect.

First victim was probably more like it. That man had no idea what had hit him. A commitment-crazed, biologically ticking lunatic, that’s what, Nate told himself every hour.

And forty times during each hour he asked himself what his problem was. Each time, he didn’t answer, but rather swung the club with a bit more intensity than he ordinarily would have so close to his stereo equipment.

He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so when the phone rang twice he didn’t pick it up, and both times the caller hung up before the answering machine clicked on. By the time evening came he’d successfully spent the entire day moping. He still had no grasp on what had caused his day-long aggravation, but by now it was out of his system.

Or so he thought.

Monday was just as bad. He arrived at the office an hour earlier than anyone else, but got nothing accomplished.

Okay, he told himself, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I’m upset about Josey and her new video store pal. But why? Who cares who she meets and talks to? Who cares who she has a laugh with? She’s free to do whatever she pleases.

Maybe that was his problem. She was free to do whatever she pleased, and he—because of reasons he could never control—wasn’t free. And he would never be free to start the same search she had.

He didn’t want to be thinking like this. He didn’t want to remember anything, and he didn’t want to be preoccupied with it next time he saw her for fear he’d blurt out things he’d hidden from her, from everyone.

He was somewhat relieved when Derek called and suggested meeting at the Common for lunch. If anyone in this world was grounded in reality, it was his older brother.

And Nate wouldn’t have to fear breaking down and telling his story—because Derek knew the story. He had been there.

Nate had been waiting on the bench for only about three minutes when his brother jogged up, carrying a few battered books in one hand and stuffing a hot dog into his mouth with the other.

As he approached, Nate marveled at how his thirty-three-year-old brother could look so much like a twenty-something college student. He wore an Emerson College T-shirt and battered jeans, and the long laces on his basketball sneakers flopped up and down with each step. His hair was the same shade of brown as Nate’s, but Derek wore his a bit longer on top and was always pushing it back with his hand.

“Hi,” Derek said around bites. “I’m sorry. I was sitting in my ethics class for an hour and a half, fantasizing about a hot dog.” He gulped down the last bit. “Don’t worry, I’m still hungry for real lunch.”

“Real lunch” meant their favorite greasy-spoon coffee shop up the street where Nate always got his salad, but he suddenly wasn’t in the mood for sitting indoors. He was agitated, itchy to walk.

“No, let’s get a few more hot dogs and just wander around. It’s nice out.”

“I thought you hated hot dogs,” Derek commented as they headed across the grass toward the vendor in the middle of the Common. The old man lifted up the metal lid on his cart, sending a stream of steam into the air.

Nate pulled out his wallet and picked out several singles. “No, I just normally refuse to eat them because I know what’s in them. But I don’t hate them.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Derek said, tucking his books under his arm so he could balance two more hot dogs and a soda can as he headed to the nearest bench. Nate followed with his own lunch.

“Nobody’s making any sense these days. Why should I?” Nate asked belligerently, taking a huge bite of his hot dog. It was good.

“As a matter of fact, you are acting weird. You haven’t even asked me how class was or if you’re getting your money’s worth of tuition, the way I used to always ask you. And you haven’t reminded me that Thursday is three days away, so not to piss away my money until you come by to give me a check. And you haven’t mocked me on my choice of food. You haven’t gotten on my case about anything for five whole minutes. It’s a record for you. And to top it off, you, the original creature of habit, didn’t want to go to our usual restaurant.” Derek paused, seemingly lost in thought. Then he looked closely at Nate. “Okay, mister. Who are you and what have you done with Nathan Bennington?”

Nate couldn’t even laugh. “I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s the rest of the world that’s gone crazy.”

“Define ‘the rest of the world.’ Who, for example, is going crazy?”

“Josey, for a start.”

“She’s always crazy, isn’t she? That’s what we all like about her. What’s she been up to? Last time she—”

“I’ll tell you how she is,” Nate interrupted. “She’s gone off the deep end. She’s like a damn cat in heat. Sorry that sounds crude.”

Derek threw back his head and laughed. “I encourage crude. Cat in heat? Why?” He lowered his voice. “Are you saying she made some kind of move on you? Because if she did, I say it’s about ti—”

“Me? Not me. This has nothing to do with me. We’re friends.” Nate’s agitation level moved up still another notch. “She’s on this mission.”

“Mission?” Derek took a long swig of soda.

“Yeah, she’s on a mission to find the man of her dreams.”

“So what? She’s single. She’s a babe, in case you haven’t noticed. She’s got every right to find the man of her dreams.”

Nate hastily filled Derek in on the details of Josey’s perfect-man, perfect-family plan, feeling more and more aggravated with each additional word. When he got to his date-screening assignment, he was even more peeved by Derek’s loud burst of laughter.

“Nate, she’s got you figured out, that’s for sure. It’s kind of funny, actually.”

“No, it’s not funny. It’s really not funny when I’m standing at the other end of the video store, pretending not to know her while some slob she’s hitting on is drooling all over her in the foreign films section.”

His brother studied his face. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too worked up about this? It’s probably some kind of phase. She’ll slow down. She’s a smart lady. She knows she can’t find a husband in a month, especially when she’s actively searching one out. Just go along with her for a while until she tires of this.”