said, catching stray mozzarella-stick cheese on his index finger before popping it into his mouth. âUgh, last year he went through a vegan phase; we almost had to break up. Even now if I order bacon at breakfast, itâs like Iâm cheating on him.â He took out his phone and held it up, pulling me in close. âLetâs taunt him with our love affair,â he said, picking up a potato skin and passing it to me.
We both made ironic duck faces and I held the potato skin up to his mouth, tilting it so Jim could see all the bacon piled on top. The flash went off and he quickly texted it. A few minutes later the phone buzzed with a photo of Jim, spooning a piece of cake into his gaping maw. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and clever eyes, a striped polo shirt and a leather cuff bracelet. âHe went out and got an Entenmannâs lemon cake,â Jeremy explained. âHe knows I love them, and now heâs threatening to eat the whole thing before I get home. What a jerk!â A second message rang in and he smiled. âJim says youâre very pretty,â he read. âHe canât wait to meet you.â
My own phone buzzed with a message from Sid, his pictureflashing up on the screen. âWhoâs that?â Jeremy said, snatching my phone out of my hand. âHeâs cute. Jett, please tell me heâs your boyfriend.â
âJust a friend,â I said, surprised at how sour the words tasted on my tongue. I took a bite of brownie sundae to wash out the taste. âWants to know if weâre still on for TV Tuesday night.â I texted him back a yes as I talked. âWeâve been doing these cop-show marathons.â I still hadnât come up with an apology, but if he was trying to set up dinner plans, maybe that was his way of letting it all go. Chalk it up to a lack of sleep and pretend it never happened.
âThat is too darling,â he said. âJim is addicted to Cold Caseâ the two of them could talk about that while we sing show tunes on the Wii in the den.â
I laughed. âThat sounds like the best double date imaginable.â
âThen letâs make it happen. Iâm going on tour with Jesus Christ Superstar âIâm playing Herod, obviously, duhâin two weeks, but when I get back, weâll make a plan.â
He paid the check and held my hand as we walked to the subway. âIâm so sorry I didnât keep in better touch,â he lamented. âIt wasnât personal; it wasnât even gotta-get-out-of-this-small-town angst. Iâd think about you and plan to look you up and then Iâd just . . . forget. You know how it goes.â
âIt was just time,â I said in agreement. âI could have looked you up too, but life gets busy.â
There was a warm glow of pride in my heart. He had made it. Where everyone else in our small-town classâincluding meâseemed so doomed for dead ends and middle management, heâd clawed his way to the top of his dream. If it had been anyone else, I might have been envious, but I loved Jeremy with the soft, sweet kind of love that stays long after youâve set a man free to fulfill his destiny. It couldnât have happened to a more deserving person.
He took both my hands and kissed me on the cheek. âItâs really great to see you,â he said. âOf all the girls I tried to date, you were always my favorite.â
I drifted all the way home on that compliment. The idiot rom-com part of my brain wanted to be a little sad, to feel cheated that the two of us would never be together even though he was so perfect. I saved his number in my phone. His CD didnât go back in the Boyfriend Box. Instead, I put it on the shelf with the rest of my musicals. It deserved no less of an honor.
There was a postcard from my grandmother in my mailbox. Greetings from Paris, love from her and Royale. I fed Baldrick and added Jeremy on Facebook. I