Chapter 19: Parallels Were Fewer

At precisely 11:00 in the afternoon of mine and Bette’s one-month anniversary, I was delivered one of the coolest arrangements of flowers ever with a note attached that said “I’m glad we haven’t killed each other yet. Happy anniversary. Bette”.

At 11:01, I stopped thinking that one-month anniversaries were corny.

And at 11:05 (because it took me four whole minutes to find a vase), I called Bette at the office. I was not at all deterred by her assistant’s warning that the boss was not in the best of moods and was very busy because she certainly sounded pleasant enough when she answered the phone.

“Thank you for the flowers,” I said.

“What flowers?”

I hesitated. “What?”

“Just kidding,” she said cheerfully. “You’re welcome.”

She had a strange sense of humor. “Are you getting everything done on time?” I asked, half out of idle curiosity and half out of genuine concern that anything would ruin our plans for tonight.

“I am, and I will,” Bette said in a mild tone. “Especially if you don’t keep me too long.”

“Ah.”

She paused. “Just one month until I stop behaving like a monster, promise.”

I smiled, relieved at the idea of her being totally normal and at ease by the time we were acknowledging our two-month anniversary. “Hey, it’s okay. I just called to say thank you.”

“Okay. I’ve got someone on the other line, so I should…”

“By all means. See you tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Seven-thirty.”

“I know.”

“Reservation’s at eight.”

“I know. I made it.”

“You’re picking me up.”

“Yes, Alice, I know.”

“Bye!” I said cheerfully, and we hung up.

I thought it would be nice to have some peace and quiet to myself, actually, but Kyle obviously had other plans, because he came banging into my apartment without knocking and headed straight for the fridge.

“I could’ve been naked, you know,” I reminded him.

He pulled out a carton of milk and opened it, sniffing the contents. “That would be interesting,” he admitted, getting a glass from the cabinets and pouring. “Spencer and I are out of milk.”