Free Slightly Settled by Wendy Markham

boss’s roommate.”
    I can just see her rolling her light blue eyes. Even I’m getting sick of me saying it.
    “So? It’s a date. Just a date. Period. I mean, it’s not like you’re ready for another relationship yet….”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “It would be purely rebound, Tracey. You don’t get dumped after spending a few years of your life with somebody and turn around and meet the right person immediately. It takes time. You’ve got to heal.”
    “I’m healed.”
    Really.
    These days, when Will calls me, I never think he’s going to ask me to get back together. Well, hardly ever.
    Okay, I didn’t think that the last time he called. At least, not the whole time. Not after he mentioned that he and Esme were going skiing in Vermont over Christmas.
    “You’re healing, but you’re not entirely healed, Tracey. You’re not ready to invest wholeheartedly in another relationship,” advises Dr. Phil. I mean, Kate.
    “Then why bother going out with this guy at all?”
    Her prompt, precise answer: “Because you need a Transition Boy.”
    “A what?”
    “Someone to ease you back into the real world,” Kate explains. “Someone to help you cross the bridge between your old identity as Will’s girlfriend and your new identity. You know, someone to—”
    “Wipe off the shit and make me feel all fresh again.”
    There’s a pause. I picture her delicately wrinkling her powdered nose.
    “Well, if you really must put it that way, Tracey…”
    “Yes, I really must.”
    “Well, anyway, you should never turn down the opportunity to get to know somebody new,” Kate declares. “Even if it obviously can’t work out with him, he may have a friend who might interest you, down the road when you’re healed.”
    Concluding that Kate is watching too many daytime talk shows, I thank her and hang up, still not sure what I want to do.
    I can’t even remember what Jack looks like. Is he really as handsome as I thought the other night? Or did all those drinks cloud my judgment? For all I know, he looks like Dobby the house elf.
    Not that it matters.
    Of course looks don’t matter. I’m not that shallow.
    Wait, am I?
    Am I shallow ?
    I do spend an awful lot of time thinking about looks. My own, and other people’s.
    But who doesn’t?
    Okay, my family back home doesn’t.
    Buckley doesn’t.
    My friends at work don’t.
    But just because I’ve spent a lot of time and effort trying to look good, and just because I want to make sure the guy I might go out with isn’t a beast…
    Well, that doesn’t mean I’m shallow.
    Shallow is Are You Hot?
    Shallow is everybody who works at She magazine.
    Shallow is…
    Will.
    Shallow is Will; Will is shallow.
    He’s also beautiful—but only on the outside. He wascold and cruel on the inside. That should have taught me something.
    I ponder.
    I reflect.
    And then I think, the hell with it.
    If I’m going to have a Transition Boy, I might as well make sure he’s good-looking. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it better to go for the looks now and the other worthy qualities later, when, according to Kate the Relationship Guru, I’ll actually be ready to find Mr. Right?
    So the first order of business is to find out whether Jack is really as appealing as he seemed. I honestly doubt that I hallucinated his cuteness factor, but then, I also thought losing a coat-check tag was Seinfeld material, so it would be dangerous to rely solely on Saturday night’s drunken judgment.
    There’s only one thing to do.
    My gaze falls on the camera on my desk.
    Mental Note: Get party film developed ASAP.
     
    Manhattan is full of one-hour film developing places.
    Those places are full of crap.
    At least, the one in my building’s lobby, where I drop off my film during my lunch break, is full of crap.
    When I stop back exactly an hour later on my way upstairs, the sari-clad woman behind the counter shakes her head.
    “When will it be ready?” I ask.
    “Never,” she says in some