Page 39 of What I'm Looking For

When Pam pulls her VW bug up to the curb at the Stop & Shop, Deb hops out. Not to help with the bags, but to grill me. “So, what’s the story with this girl?”

Before I can tell her to mind her own business, Pam yells, “No sharing of details until he’s in the car. And move it along. People are waiting.”

A blaring horn confirms that we’re blocking traffic. After closing the trunk, I squeeze into the backseat. The moment Deb’s inside Pam puts the car in gear and we’re off.

“How many dates have you been on with this girl?”

“And in how many days?”

“Is she an actress?”

“We still need to hear this juggler story.”

“Yeah, what’s that all about?”

Whatisthis thing all about? Lust, for sure. The memory of her lips on mine has been my constant companion since our final kiss Saturday. The problem is, we’ve already argued about money twice. That’d only get worse if we spent more time together. It sure did with my on-again-off-again girlfriend Callie—now decidedly off since she moved to L.A. Arguing with her was a total downer. Kate does seem different, though. The spark in her eyes when she defended her position was hot.

Deb interrupts my internal monologue. “Oooh, I think he really likes her.” She twists around in her seat. “He does! He’s blushing and he has a goofy smile on his face.”

“He does? I wanna see!” The car swerves as Pam tries to find my face in the rearview mirror.

Deb reaches for the steering wheel. “Pam! Jeez! Drive the car!”

Pam bats her hand away. “I am. Take a chill pill. What’s he doing now?” she whispers to Deb as if I can’t hear before she accelerates to squeeze in a left turn between two oncoming cars.

Biting back a yelp, I brace my arms across the tiny backseat. Pam’s an insane driver. Brooklyn-born, Boston-raised. The worst combination for accents and drivers. “Guys! I’m just making the girl dinner. It’s no big deal.”

Deb’s index finger snakes back to poke me. “So, tell us about her.”

“I hardly know her. I just?—”

“You can’t live with us forever, you know.” Pam manages to safely catch my eye in the rearview mirror. “We might have kids of our own one day, and we’ll have to kick you out.”

“Promises, promises.”

They’re always threatening to throw me out, but I know they’d miss having me live in their little maid’s room. Miss having someone to boss around. I do the grunt work and anything else they hate to do, like kill bugs and change light bulbs. Just because they’re in a happy committed relationship doesn’t mean everybody has to be. Plus, they’re theater designers. Even though they freelance too, they work more regularly and have more control over their schedules.

Kate probably makes good money and has expectations that her partner should, too.

Deb’s fingers snap in front of my face. “Hellooo, Wiiilll? I said, is she an actress?”

I capture her hand. She’s worse than my brothers in the can’t-let-it-go department. “No. Definitely not. She’s a—I forget what it’s called. Something in finance.” I stare her down until she rolls her eyes, pulls away and faces front again.

“He’s broken. We need to fix him.”

I drop back in the seat and stare at the dots on the VW’s ceiling. “I am not broken. It’s just dinner.”

Hey, I’m an actor. Even if I’m lying, I can be convincing.

“Where did you meet her?” Pam asks as she takes a hard right. I wince, picturing the chicken and vegetables rolling across the trunk up front.

“She came to the bar one night.”

“And then you asked her out?” Deb asks.

“No, but I told her about the volunteer day at the Boys and Girls Club and she came. Then I asked her for coffee, then we went on the bike ride Saturday.”

“Well, it’s obvious that the universe has brought you two together for a reason,” Deb declares, flopping back into her seat. “I’m glad you’re finally dating someone again.”

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