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Subject: Greetings from Vermont!

From: Elliot Rowe

Date: Thu, Jun 12 at 6:15 PM

To: Madeline Whittaker

Just got here. Cell reception kinda spotty but will try to call when I get a sec . . .

Has NY changed drastically since I left??

xx

 

Subject: Re: Greetings from Vermont!

From: Madeline Whittaker

Date: Thu, Jun 12 at 8:08 PM

To: Elliot Rowe

I don't think New York has changed too much. I mean . . . is everyone having threesomes and doing blow off the sidewalk? Sure, that.

Headed out into the mean streets of the West Village tonight for some party in some friend of Emily's apartment.

Milk a goat for me,

M

 

Subject: Re: Greetings from Vermont!

From: Elliot Rowe

Date: Thu, Jun 12 at 8:10 PM

To: Madeline Whittaker

That shouldn't be hard, little guys are just chillin' all over the property. Pretty awesome.

Running off to the rehearsal dinner, will try to call after. xx

 

Subject: Re: Greetings from Vermont!

From: Madeline Whittaker

Date: Thu, Jun 12 at 8:48 PM

To: Elliot Rowe

Sounds good. Have fun!

 

 

 

Subject: (no subject)

From: David Meyer

Date: Fri, Jun 13 at 11:45 AM

To: Elliot Rowe

I think we as a society need to re-examine this whole “wedding hashtag” phenomenon. I don't need to see a picture of the #LevyPartyfor2 table centerpiece from everyone with a goddamn iPhone.

How's Ellie? Just an FYI, I will regretfully be “unable to attend” if #ElliotandEllie is rekindled.

 

Subject: Re: (no subject)

From: Elliot Rowe

Date: Fri. Jun 13 at 12:09 PM

To: David Meyer

I don't think you'll have to worry about that. Last night, she was running around in a short skirt and heels even though we're in a field in fucking Vermont and it's cold out at night and it all just felt . . . old. I dunno. Towards the end of the night she kept saying how great it was to catch up and how she hadn't been dating because she was trying to “work on herself right now,” and I could tell she wanted me to make a move and literally the whole time I was just thinking, “I wish Madeline was here, I wish Madeline was here.” Dunno what I was thinking not inviting her.

Then I ended up smoking a bunch of cigarettes, so it was pretty much a loss on all counts.

 

 

 

Subject: (no subject)

From: Madeline Whittaker

Date: Fri, Jun 13 at 1:06 PM

To: Emily Roberts

HOLY SHIT BALLS!

His ex is there. And
of course
he's said nothing and
of course
that's exactly why he didn't invite me to begin with.

Wtf?

 

Subject: Re: (no subject)

From: Emily Roberts

Date: Fri, Jun 13 at 1:32 PM

To: Madeline Whittaker

Wait . . . How do you know this?

 

Subject: Re: (no subject)

From: Madeline Whittaker

Date: Fri, Jun 13 at 1:45 PM

To: Emily Roberts

Because Elliot's friends have public Instagram feeds and I went down the rabbit hole . . . I did this until I stumbled across an actual hash tag for the wedding.

Anyway, one click got me pics from all sorts of randos, including 2-3 flashes of a blonde who is CLEARLY Elliot's ex (oh, and to answer your question before you ask it: Facebook and prior Google Image search after the first night we met . . . that's how). In one of the bride and groom dancing, she's chatting with him in the background. She's a living nightmare named “Ellie.” I can send it to you. You can analyze their body language for me . . .

 

Subject: Re: (no subject)

From: Emily Roberts

Date: Fri, Jun 13 at 2:45 PM

To: Madeline Whittaker

Ummm . . . don't do that. I love you but I don't need to see that.

Listen, maybe he didn't invite you because his ex was there and he thought it would be weird. Was he really going to tell you that???

He hasn't done anything wrong . . . yet. I think you should wait and see how he handles it upon his return. See if he mentions it or not . . . I think it might be a little weird if he doesn't mention it.

Either way two things:

1. Step away from the tiny screen

2. Leave the house

3. Ellie is a dumb name

(apparently I can teach my kids to number things but I can't count things)

E x

 

 

 

Subject: Re: Greetings from Vermont!

From: Elliot Rowe

Date: Fri, Jun 13, 9:54 PM

To: Madeline Whittaker

Heyyy. You get my vmail? Will try again later tonight. xx

 

Subject: Re: Greetings from Vermont!

From: Elliot Rowe

Date: Sat, Jun 14 at 10:06 AM

To: Madeline Whittaker

Morning! Guess I missed you last night. Extremely hungover but slowly recuperating with a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, all components of which were made on premise. Very literally farm to table.

Bunch of us are gonna go on some sort of “nature walk,” which I guess is what they call hikes here. Will try you again before the wedding. Still can't believe we have to actually drink at that. Talk soon.

 

 

 

Subject: Re: (no subject)

From: Madeline Whittaker

Date: Sat, Jun 14 at 11:06 AM

To: Emily Roberts

Hey,

Just tried to call you. You're probably still sleeping. I
could
wait for you to call me back but this story is burning a hole in my pocket.

Okay (rolls up sleeves): as per your advice, I did “take a night” for myself. But it would take a more psychologically stable person than myself to stay home, knowing Elliot was probably out gallivanting with this Ellie person.

When I left the house last night, all I could think was: “Maybe Elliot and I are only good in a bubble.” Only good in a suite at the Four Seasons. I started thinking . . . okay, we've met some of each other's friends but if this relationship is happening in isolation, it's going to be pretty easy to throw it away without consequence. This is what's floating around my head when I leave the house.

So. . . I go out to dinner with a friend from work and her husband, which feels like maybe the exact wrong thing to do, to sit across from a well-defined couple. I am running late and when I get there, it's my friend, her husband, and a jacket slung over an empty chair. And unless some mystery female guest is subscribing to the menswear trend a little too hard, I deduce that a person with a penis will be joining us. These are the real consequences of living your relationship in a bubble: a reasonably good friend, whom I've sat down the hall from for years, thinks I'm in a position to be set up on a date.

Then the guy emerges from the bathroom.

His name is Jared and he has numerous artfully arranged Tibetan scarves around his neck, ripped T-shirt and the ethnic charms hanging from leather cords . . . he may as well have had a button that read “Ask Me About My Charm Necklaces!” And yet . . . he is hot.

Anyway, we have a perfectly nice time and the food is fine (since dating Elliot, I've become a restaurant snob . . .), but not great and so Jared and I begin to drink.