Page 81 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
One time, about a year ago, a woman slipped me her number when she paid the bill. We hooked up, but that’s not something that happens often, and it’s never been the other way around.
“Another Annex?” I ask Noelle.
She hesitates.
“Or the Swansea Stout?” I suggest. “It’s our latest release.”
“I’ll try that. Yes.”
“I hope it’s up to your expensive heiress tastes.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
The taproom gets busier, and she doesn’t say much more to me, other than asking for the bill. She pays with her card and doesn’t write her number for me anywhere.
It shouldn’t disappoint me, but it does.
Oh well. Business is good, and at six, I head home to do the laundry I’ve been putting off.
On Sunday afternoon, Justin and I have our once-a-month karaoke session. Darrell, Darrell’s wife, and Justin’s boyfriend all come over and squeeze into our living room. Darrell rarely sings, but he enjoys watching everyone else make fools of themselves, and once in a while, Keysha convinces him to do a song. She’s the only one who can do that.
“All right, you’re up.” Justin slaps me on the back.
“What should I do?”
He raises his eyebrows. Usually, I pick my songs myself, rather than allowing him the pleasure.
“?‘Call Me Maybe,’?” he says.
I grab the microphone.
Honestly, I was expecting worse from him. I like Carly Rae Jepsen, and I rather enjoy doing this song—even if, right now,I might prefer “The Loneliest Time”—though before it begins, he gets a disturbing gleam in his eye.
“The woman you were flirting with yesterday—did you give her your number?”
I don’t bother denying that I may have been flirting.
“Nah,” I say good-naturedly, then start singing, acutely aware of the fact that I’m the only single one in this group. Just like I was when I looked up at the stars at Darrell and Keysha’s wedding reception.
And once again, I wonder if I missed her, the woman who’s right for me.
Except this time, for some reason, I’m picturing Noelle.
31Noelle
“Hey, Noelle,” says the man opening the door next to mine.
Who the fuck are you?I refrain from asking.
What happened to Mrs. Santos? Did she move? Did she die?
Since my pre-loop life was fairly uneventful, I don’t have as much to catch up on as some people would. Still, there are things that throw me off, like the fact that I apparently have a new neighbor, and my usual grocery store has rearrangedeverything. Seeing Valentine’s chocolate for sale—without first seeing Christmas chocolate—was also odd, but I smiled at the evidence of passing time.
A little rattled, I heave my grocery bags inside and close the door. I put everything away, then check my phone to make sure I haven’t missed anything from Avery. She said she’d dump Joe this weekend, but I’ve yet to hear from her. A part of me also hopes for a message from my sister, but there’s nothing. Impulsively, I give her a call.
Madison picks up. “I’m still not talking to you.”
And then nothing.
