thing. I mean, it's not like we're
not
spending time together—so far, we've gone running twice, and he flirts like crazy. But he's got this girlfriend to get rid of and he's too nice a guy to just dump her. But if I take him on Sari's autism walk thing, I’m pretty sure I can clinch the deal.”
“How romantic,” Lucy said. “How long is the walk, Sari?”
“Five K. And afterward, they give us lunch. In-N-Out Burgers. And there's supposed to be Krispy Kremes and coffee in the morning before the walk.”
“Woo-hoo,” Kathleen said. “Krispy Kremes? I’m so there.”
“I’m coming late and leaving early,” Lucy said. “I don't want to eat that stuff but I will if it's right there in front of me.”
“No, you won't,” Kathleen said. “You never do. You only eat self-denial. What does that taste like, anyway?”
Like chicken,” Sari said.
“Yeah, well we can't all have your metabolism,” Lucy said to Kathleen. “Or lack of willpower.”
“Haven't you heard?” Kathleen said. “Willpower's out. Self-indulgence is the new willpower.”
“That doesn't even make
sense.”
“See if you can dig up anyone else to come, guys,” Sari said. “They want as huge a crowd as they can get.”
Lucy said, “I’ll ask my lab partner. David. He's always doing charity stuff. I bet he'll go.”
“Great,” Sari said. “I’ve always wanted to meet him.”
“You
have
met him,” Lucy said. “You came to get me at the lab once a few months ago and met him. You guys talked for like ten minutes.”
“Really?” Sari said.
“That's David's most remarkable quality,” Lucy said. “He's completely forgettable. I work with him every day and
I
can barely remember him.”
“Oh, wait—is he Asian?”
“Half Chinese, half Jewish.”
“Okay. It's coming back. I do remember him. He's a nice guy.”
“He's a nerd,” Lucy said. “A nerd who's very good at killing rats. Not as good as I am, but very good.”
“Excellent,” Sari said. “It's a relief to know we'll be covered if any small animals attack us during the walk.”
II
B ack at her own place later that day, Kathleen let herself slide into a delicious Sunday afternoon nap on her airbed but was woken up by the buzzing of the intercom. Sams state-of-the-art intercom was built into his phone system, but Kathleen hadn't bothered to get a line installed since she had her cell. Fortunately, the building's original buzzer system from the seventies still worked. Very loudly.
Since she rarely had visitors to her unfurnished apartment— and never before an unexpected one—Kathleen quickly shook herself awake and ran over to the speaker.
“Your father's here to see you,” the doorman said.
“Oh, shit,” she said, right into the intercom. “Send him up, I guess.”
She turned and surveyed her living room. It stretched out in all directions, an enormous room with high ceilings and magnificent moldings, furnished with only a single twin airbed. Actually, Kathleen owned two airbeds, both bought at Bed Bath & Beyond for ninety-nine dollars each. One was in her bedroom and therefore her designated bed. This one was in the living room, so it served as a sofa and a place to nap. She also sat on it to eat, so it was her de facto dining room, as well. The actual dining room served as her soccer and field hockey playground. She had recently purchased a set of orange cones, which she used as goals for whatever sport she felt like playing and were currently arranged for soccer. Balls, pucks, bats, and hockey sticks lay scattered on the floor.
There was a knock on the door. Kathleen opened it. Lloyd Winters wasn't alone. There was another guy with him, a younger one, with big brown eyes and longish hair. He wore an oversize sports jacket over a yellow mock turtleneck.
“There she is. My gorgeous baby girl.” Lloyd approached her with his arms out. Kathleen crossed her own tightly across her chest and took a step back. He gave up on the hug but did
not
spending time together—so far, we've gone running twice, and he flirts like crazy. But he's got this girlfriend to get rid of and he's too nice a guy to just dump her. But if I take him on Sari's autism walk thing, I’m pretty sure I can clinch the deal.”
“How romantic,” Lucy said. “How long is the walk, Sari?”
“Five K. And afterward, they give us lunch. In-N-Out Burgers. And there's supposed to be Krispy Kremes and coffee in the morning before the walk.”
“Woo-hoo,” Kathleen said. “Krispy Kremes? I’m so there.”
“I’m coming late and leaving early,” Lucy said. “I don't want to eat that stuff but I will if it's right there in front of me.”
“No, you won't,” Kathleen said. “You never do. You only eat self-denial. What does that taste like, anyway?”
Like chicken,” Sari said.
“Yeah, well we can't all have your metabolism,” Lucy said to Kathleen. “Or lack of willpower.”
“Haven't you heard?” Kathleen said. “Willpower's out. Self-indulgence is the new willpower.”
“That doesn't even make
sense.”
“See if you can dig up anyone else to come, guys,” Sari said. “They want as huge a crowd as they can get.”
Lucy said, “I’ll ask my lab partner. David. He's always doing charity stuff. I bet he'll go.”
“Great,” Sari said. “I’ve always wanted to meet him.”
“You
have
met him,” Lucy said. “You came to get me at the lab once a few months ago and met him. You guys talked for like ten minutes.”
“Really?” Sari said.
“That's David's most remarkable quality,” Lucy said. “He's completely forgettable. I work with him every day and
I
can barely remember him.”
“Oh, wait—is he Asian?”
“Half Chinese, half Jewish.”
“Okay. It's coming back. I do remember him. He's a nice guy.”
“He's a nerd,” Lucy said. “A nerd who's very good at killing rats. Not as good as I am, but very good.”
“Excellent,” Sari said. “It's a relief to know we'll be covered if any small animals attack us during the walk.”
II
B ack at her own place later that day, Kathleen let herself slide into a delicious Sunday afternoon nap on her airbed but was woken up by the buzzing of the intercom. Sams state-of-the-art intercom was built into his phone system, but Kathleen hadn't bothered to get a line installed since she had her cell. Fortunately, the building's original buzzer system from the seventies still worked. Very loudly.
Since she rarely had visitors to her unfurnished apartment— and never before an unexpected one—Kathleen quickly shook herself awake and ran over to the speaker.
“Your father's here to see you,” the doorman said.
“Oh, shit,” she said, right into the intercom. “Send him up, I guess.”
She turned and surveyed her living room. It stretched out in all directions, an enormous room with high ceilings and magnificent moldings, furnished with only a single twin airbed. Actually, Kathleen owned two airbeds, both bought at Bed Bath & Beyond for ninety-nine dollars each. One was in her bedroom and therefore her designated bed. This one was in the living room, so it served as a sofa and a place to nap. She also sat on it to eat, so it was her de facto dining room, as well. The actual dining room served as her soccer and field hockey playground. She had recently purchased a set of orange cones, which she used as goals for whatever sport she felt like playing and were currently arranged for soccer. Balls, pucks, bats, and hockey sticks lay scattered on the floor.
There was a knock on the door. Kathleen opened it. Lloyd Winters wasn't alone. There was another guy with him, a younger one, with big brown eyes and longish hair. He wore an oversize sports jacket over a yellow mock turtleneck.
“There she is. My gorgeous baby girl.” Lloyd approached her with his arms out. Kathleen crossed her own tightly across her chest and took a step back. He gave up on the hug but did
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