“No, I mean Tania is the one who doesn’t want you there,” Jordan says. “Not after last night. See, she wasn’t too happy when she found out I spent the night with you—”

“Oh, my God, Jordan!” I burst out, yanking my hand away from him, and glancing quickly toward Sarah and Belinda to make sure they haven’t overheard. “You didn’t spend the night with me! You spent it on your brother’s living room couch!”

“I know that,” Jordan says, having the dignity to flush. “But Tania doesn’t believe it. See, Tania thinks you’re still in love with me, and—”

“Oh, my God!” I cry again. “What is it with everybody thinking I’m still in love with you? I’m so not! I fell out of love with you way before I ever walked in and saw Tania with your—”

“Hey, now,” Jordan says, ducking his head as the two math geeks look over at us interestedly. “No need for that kind of language.”

“Seriously, though, Jordan,” I say. “I fell out of love with you that time we were touring in Japan, remember, and you kept going to visit all those temples. Only they weren’t really temples, were they?”

Jordan’s flush deepens. “No. I didn’t know you knew. You never said anything.”

I shrug. “What was there to say? Besides, I thought maybe you’d work it out of your system. But you didn’t.”

“I just never knew any woman could do that with a ping-pong ball,” Jordan says, in a dreamy voice.

“Yes,” I say briskly. “Well, fortunately for you, Tania is a girl of many talents.”

His fiancée’s name snaps him out of his reverie, as I’d known it would.

“So you’re really all right with it?” he asks me, with a worried expression. “Not coming to the wedding?”

“Jordan, I never had any intention of coming your wedding tomorrow. Remember? I told you that. Like five times.”

He reaches out to grasp my hand again. “Heather,” he says, gazing into my bloodshot eyes with his own. “I can’t tell you what this means to me. It proves that, no matter what you say, you do care about me…at least a little. And I hope you’ll believe me when I say I’m sorry things turned out this way. But it’s time for me to start my new life, with my new partner. If it’s any comfort to you at all, I hope that someday you, too, will find someone to share your life with….”

“Jordan,” I say, leaning forward to pat his hand. “I have found that someone. Her name is Lucy.”

Jordan makes a face and lets go of my hand. “I mean a man, Heather, not a dog. Why do you always have to make a joke out of everything?”

“I don’t know,” I say, with a sigh. “That’s just the kind of girl I am, I guess. You’re lucky you escaped when you did.”

Jordan looks at me sadly, shaking his head. “You’ll never go back to the way you used to be when we first met, will you? You were so sweet back then. Never cynical.”

“That’s because back then my boyfriend didn’t feel like he was missing out on the fact that I never did vaginal tricks with a ping-pong ball,” I tell him.

“That’s it,” Jordan says, putting his jacket back on and standing up. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you…well. Later.”

“After you get back from the honeymoon,” I say. “Where are you going, anyway?”

Jordan can’t seem to make eye contact. “Japan. Tania’s touring.”

“Well,” I say. “Ja mata.”

Scowling, Jordan storms from the bar. Only when he’s gone does Sarah turn her attention from the game (there’s a commercial), and says “Jesus Christ. What did you say to him, anyway?”

I shrug. “Goodbye.”

26

My heart was like a broken book

My soul was torn, not worth a look

Then you found me, and I just knew

Dreams really could come true.

“Book”
Written by Heather Wells

After the day I’ve had, I’m looking forward to an evening alone. I plan on taking out the old guitar and giving it a thorough workout, then lighting a fire and curling up on the couch to watch all the TV shows I’ve DVR’d through the week. I think there’s some leftover Indian takeout in the fridge. I’m going to chow down on samosas and nan and America’s Next Top Model reruns. Could there be a better plan for a Friday night? Especially a Friday night coming after a week of dealing with bodyless corpses and frat boys.

Except that when I walk through the front door of Cooper’s place, I realize there’s something I forgot to factor into my plan.

And that’s that I now live with my father.

The smell hits me the minute I step into the foyer. It’s unmistakable. Someone is cooking the steaks I snuck out of work to buy at Jefferson Market. The steaks I got for me and Cooper, but never got around to cooking for him, on account of…well, everything that was going on.

Wrenching off my coat, I stalk into the kitchen. Dad is there in an apron in front of the stove, cooking my steaks in a cast-iron pan with the mushrooms and onions I also picked up. He’s set the kitchen table for two, with napkins and lit candles and everything. Lucy, curled in one of her many dog beds (Cooper’s the one who keeps buying them, not me. He thinks they’re cute), raises her head when I come in and wags her tail, but that’s all. She’s obviously already been out.

“Well,” I say. I have to speak loudly to be heard over the Bollywood music Dad’s playing on Cooper’s stereo system. “Expecting company?”

Dad jumps and turns around. He’s drinking one of my Diet Cokes. Some of it slops out of the can because he turns so abruptly.

“Heather!” he cries. “There you are! I didn’t hear you come in.”

I’m glaring at the steaks. I can’t help it. Those were in my fridge in my apartment upstairs. Which it’s true I never lock, but that doesn’t mean I welcome strange men prowling around up there, poking through my stuff.

Because Dad is a strange man. To me. I mean, relatively speaking.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Dad says, apparently noticing the direction of my gaze. “I figured somebody better fry these up, or they were going to spoil. I was in your apartment, looking for your mother’s number.”