Again, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.
FROM: [email protected]
Sunday, March 26, 2017 3:03 a.m.
I’m not married, and I don’t have a girlfriend. No kids.
I had some health issues late last year, and I’m still reckoning with how to move forward. I’m basically throwing myself a pity party, and I don’t feel good about inviting anyone else to the celebration. Not even you, the most patient woman I’ve ever (virtually) met.
I don’t plan on going anywhere. As far as I’m concerned, Nice County is my final destination. I can’t go back to my old job, and my brother and I aren’t close anymore.
If you feel like you should stop writing me, I’ll understand. If you’re willing to keep corresponding, though, I promise not to push for personal information I’m not willing to give in return.
FROM: [email protected]
Sunday, March 26, 2017 4:45 a.m.
I’m so sorry you’ve had health issues. If there’s ever anything I can do to help, please let me know. I mean it.
I want to keep corresponding. I might not be able to write quite as much as I have in the past, though. Angie convinced me to sign up for an online dating service a while ago, and I’ve been swamped by matches and messages. Sorting through all the information can be overwhelming. It takes a ton of time, much more than I ever anticipated.
So far, from what I can tell, online dating is like that old saying: The odds are good, but the goods are odd.
Here’s hoping I find someone normal soon!
FROM: [email protected]
Sunday, March 26, 2017 8:51 a.m.
If my pity party ever ended, would you still be interested in meeting me?
FROM: [email protected]
Sunday, March 26, 2017 8:55 a.m.
Of course I’d love to meet you.
But in the meantime, what movies have you been streaming? Any award winners?
* * *
Miles stared at the e-mail on his monitor, his heart beating so loudly it echoed in his ears. There it was, his answer. The signal telling him he needed to take his life back in hand. An ironic phrase, considering.
He’d run out of time. If he wanted to find out whether he and Mary could become more than virtual friends, it would have to be soon. Just because the guys at the wedding had been too stupid to realize what they’d overlooked, and just because her online matches to this point had apparently been weirdos, his luck couldn’t hold out forever.
That he knew. With the sort of intimate bitterness borne of endless weeks spent in pain. That pain was diminishing day by day, but the damage was done. Permanent.
For three months, he’d been recuperating from an injury that should never have occurred. Would never have occurred, had either his luck held out or his common sense intervened. In a matter of seconds, his charmed life had vanished forever, fully due to his own stupidity and bad judgment. He’d accepted that fact. Almost embraced it, actually, the same way he’d embraced his isolation from everyone he cared about.
Even from his brother. Especially from his brother.
Then Mary had appeared in his life like an unexpected gift two months ago, and he hadn’t known whether to weep in gratitude or expect another blow.
So he’d remained hidden away like a coward. But that wasn’t an option anymore, was it? Not if he wanted Mary—or at least the possibility of her—more than he wanted his isolation.
He looked down at himself. In recent weeks, his old tees had become too tight. Same with his custom-fitted, well-worn jeans. So he’d taken to cranking up the heat and walking around shirtless, covered only by a pair of forgiving boxers. If anyone came to the door—and by anyone, he meant Eugene, the pizza delivery guy—Miles put on a robe.
Three months’ worth of unkempt beard made him nearly unrecognizable, which wasn’t an accident. His shaggy hair flopped over his eyes. And he had the lowering suspicion that he didn’t smell too good at the moment.
A quick sniff near his right armpit proved that theory correct.
In his present state, he certainly didn’t deserve the attention of a woman like Mary. She was not only kind and smart and funny, but quietly beautiful too. No doubt she also bathed a lot more regularly than he currently did.
He’d bookmarked that photo of her helping kids at the library, but he didn’t need to click on the link. He’d memorized every feature already. Her warm brown skin and wide, high forehead. Her big, dark eyes. The way the bridge of her nose crinkled when she grinned. The black hair swept neatly back into either a ponytail or a twist of some sort. From that single picture, he couldn’t tell which.
He’d spent weeks and weeks wondering. He wanted to know.
She wore a small locket, which fell an inch or so above the modest neckline of her blouse. Discreet earrings. Clothes that fit well and flattered her curvy, fit frame.
She was lovely. So lovely, and he wanted to see her in the flesh more than he wanted just about anything in his life right now.
And he would see her. Eventually. It would simply take a little preparation. More exercise, less takeout, and significantly better grooming. By the time he met Mary, he was determined to bear some semblance to the man he’d been before the accident. Whether that would prove enough to ignite real-life chemistry and win her over, he didn’t know.
But he had to try.
3
FROM: [email protected]
Friday, April 21, 2017 11:58 a.m.
You must be nearing your lunch break. I hope you whipped any troublesome patrons into shape this morning. How’d your performance evaluation with Angie go?
I ran on my treadmill after breakfast. Since then, I’ve been watching documentaries about a few places I’ve visited over the years. Addis Ababa, the Andes Mountains, etc. Gorgeous scenery.
You’re off this weekend, right? Do you have big plans?
FROM: [email protected]
Friday, April 21, 2017 12:15 p.m.
The evaluation was just fine. Angie’s happy with me and what I do for the library. Next time, though, maybe I need to talk to her about finding ways to make my work a little more…I don’t know. Challenging? Varied?
But overall, it’s a great job, and I love her and my coworkers. I don’t mean to be whiny. Sorry about that.
Instead of complaining, I should be figuring out different ways to help our patrons. Maybe I should propose that class I told you about the other day? The one where I’d help them with their résumés and job applications?
Or maybe I should focus less on work and more