Page 74 of My Dead Wife's Ex Will Do
The reply is almost instantaneous.
Just landed. The flight was terrible.
Oh no! Turbulence?
Worse. Baseball movie.
I laugh out loud in the silent bedroom, which causes Barnaby to startle awake with a woof. I pat his shoulder soothingly and he resettles his head on my leg.
It’s a quote from an old episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I’d forgotten that Victor and Leah did a full series re-watch shortly after he moved in to the downstairs apartment to help out when she was diagnosed. They used to quote that show to each other all the time.
That’s enough small talk, isn’t it?
It’s the next line from the episode, though in the show, the characters move directly to having sex, which we can’t exactly do.
Victor doesn’t respond to that, which makes me worried that I went too far. Are we back to near-strangers now? Should I not send him vaguely flirtatious text messages? I’m agonizing over these questions and what to text next, if anything, when my phone buzzes.
Sorry, deplaning.
Right. He’s juggling his luggage and his phone and he’s probably exhausted just like I was when I got off the plane.
Got the reference, though.
Well, there’s that.
I guess.
I remember what happens next. Wish we could.
He adds a winking kissy face emoji.
Me too.
I don’t know what else to say. What else is there to say?
I wish you were here? I more or less just said that.
Please come home? Does Victor even consider New York home or is his home in L.A.? I don’t even know how much time he spends on each coast these days.
I want to be with you? I do, but what sort of catch am I? A bisexual widower who must stay closeted for his job and whose Catholic guilt frequently gets the better of him.
I’m suddenly exhausted and text Victor.
I’m going to sleep now. Hope you get home soon.
Despite my words, I stare at my phone screen for a good five more minutes. There’s nothing, then three dots dancing on the screen, then nothing, then the dots again. I finally give up and put my phone on the nightstand.
Two seconds later, it buzzes. I snatch it up.
Sleep tight, Jay. Wish I were there with you.
Thirty-Seven
Victor
The next few weeks alternate between crazy-busy and hurry-up-and-wait. My client is about to film an action movie and while she’s generally very fit, we’ve planned an aggressive training schedule to get her ready to do a lot of her own stunts.
And look amazing in the skintight costume they’ve designed for her, naturally.
