The Emoticon Generation (30 page)

“They still stayed together even though she cancelled. And after a couple of months she decided she does want it to be forever, and he promised again and again that she would come before the job and that he wouldn’t widow her, and they set another wedding date.”

“And what happened? Did they get married?”

“The wedding date’s still a while away.”

“So the jury’s still out.”

Tony forced himself to smile. “I guess so.”

“Hmm ...” Steve thinks and such. “How old is she?”

“Just turned thirty.”

“Well, there you go. That’s just the right age. Unmarried women between twenty-eight and thirty-two, that’s just the right – I mean, it fits the pattern. And god knows, I’ve seen enough of –”

“I don’t foll –”

“Look, she’s not in love with your friend, or this wouldn’t be happening. If you’re in love, you don’t hesitate on ‘forever’. You
want
to spend the rest of your life with the other guy and you spend every day praying that he feels the same. She’s not in love. She loves him, sure. Or maybe even she doesn’t love him but
wants
to love him, because she thinks she
should
be attracted to him, because he’s such a successful businessman or something. She’s with him because she feels that this is it, that there’s no more time, and this is as good as it’s going to get. And the ‘widowed’ thing. That’s just ... Don’t you see? She’s willing to compromise on this guy, she’s willing to spend the rest of her life not with a man she’s in love with, but she’d be damned if she compromised
and
it turned out she was married to a man who wasn’t there. This ‘widowed’ thing is very important to her.

“But my point is this: Yes, she’s exactly my type. The fact that she actually had the guts to
cancel
the wedding that first time, that shows she has strength. That shows her
wild
side. She has a spirit. I mean, I like her already. She spends most of her days pushing that spirit back down. But, yes, oh, yes, I
know
this woman. I can recognize them miles away.”

“So you’ve met a lot of women like this one?”

“Oh, yes. And on more than one occasion I was the cause for their breakup.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, because ... This kind of behavior just drives me
nuts
. I always tell them, even if I don’t have an interest, even if I don’t want to be with them, go after your
heart
. If he’s not the guy for you, if he’s not the guy you want one hundred percent, then, damn it, don’t marry him. Don’t compromise. Tony, you have no idea how many women marry men they don’t really want that much, just because it’s that age, just because they’re so desperate to get married.”

He was almost yelling now. He caught himself, and leaned back. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how many times I gave this speech. You have no idea how many of my friends actually needed to hear it again and again and again until it sunk in: If you find no one better, then you find no one better. You’re better
off
. And, besides, sometime, somehow, you
will
find ‘The
One
’.

Tony’s face was frozen. But he was able to feign an interested tone, “Does ‘the speech’ work?”

“A lot of the times, yes. But it’s not really a speech. I mean, it drives me nuts that people don’t do what they feel. I’m sure that if
I
felt that some woman is
my
‘one’, nothing would stop me. Not my job, not society’s conventions, not my friendship with the man whose wife I’m after. None of that. And if it was mutual, if we wanted to be together so much, then we
should
be together!

“If you meet a person, and you say to yourself that ‘this is it’, and I mean if this is
it
, then oh-my-god, it’s so rare, it’s so amazing, leap at it and stop at nothing. And there’s no reason in the world why she shouldn’t, if she feels the same. And if she feels the same but is afraid, then I’ll give her the speech again and again and again until she finally does what she
wants
.” He shook his head. Then he smiled, and said, “Here comes the real speech: Do what you
feel
! Don’t do what you’ve been told you
need
to do, don’t compromise, don’t do it because everybody does it, don’t do it out of fear of being alone or whatever. Do what you
feel
! Follow your
heart
!”

Tony, whose eyes were focused only on Steve, raised them for a second, and saw Matt’s head peering in through the door.

“I’m sorry, I heard some shouting.”

And Tony heard what Matt didn’t say: ‘I wanted to see you weren’t making a fool of yourself.’

“Everything’s fine,” Tony smiled.

“Actually, as much as it is a pleasure talking to you,” Steve quickly came to his feet. “And as much as we could spend hours talking about all of this, I did actually plan to work today.”

“Sure. Matt and I have to work anyway on – Anyway, what’s next on your agenda? We’re giving you complete freedom here, as you know.”

“And we appreciate that. I was going to catch a conversation with a couple of scientists at the cooler, but that’s not going to happen now. I have an appointment at 2 p.m. with your future wife.”

The temperature in the room immediately dropped ten degrees.

“What?” Tony whispered.

“That was the agreement, wasn’t it? We scheduled it weeks in advance. Today at two.”

“I – uh –” The pieces came together in his head. Steve hadn’t met her two years ago because she’d met Tony. But now that he’d met her and kept her in the States, Steve would have met her today, at 14:00. One way or another, Steve and Tony were destined to meet.

“Uh, Steve ...” Matt broke the silence. “Tony’s wife ... I mean, Tony’s fiancé, she ... She’s deceased. She died.”

“Oh my god! What?”

“Three weeks ago, in a car – In an accident.”

“Oh my god,” he turned to Tony. “I’m sorry. No one told me.”

Tony had to hold his own head. “No, it’s fine.”

“I ... I can’t begin to guess what you’re going through. I’m really sorry.”

“I need to be alone.”

“Sure, sure.” Steve and Matt left Tony’s office. Matt was the last to leave, and he threw a last glance at Tony. Tony didn’t look back. Matt shut the door.

Tony stared at the door.

If Tony hadn’t died, he would never have saved part of her mind on the computer, he would never have seen Steve’s face before he showed up on Eternity Plus’ doorstep. He would never have known that this man was dangerous. He would have sat right here, right now, talking with him like they were two old buddies, two men who experience the world in a similar way. And then, more or less right now, Steve would have stood up, looked at his watch, and said what he’d just said. ‘This could go on forever. But we’ve set an appointment with your fiancé.’ Tony would have shaken his hand, and let Steve leave.

Right now. Through that door.

Tony stood up, touched the door in the same way he imagined Steve would have done, and opened it.

Steve would now have been at the end of that corridor – right there! – disappearing behind the corner. Heading for his car, no doubt parked behind the building.

Tony went the other way. His car was management; it was parked in the front.

Tony got into his car. The way to Steve’s car was longer. He figured he was about a minute ahead.

Tony turned on the car and drove through traffic.

He ran into red light after red light. Eventually, he couldn’t take it, and just sped through. He had to get there before Steve.

A siren from behind caused him to slow down and stop. While the cop was giving him the ticket, Tony imagined Steve’s car passing him right behind the cop’s back, right about ... Now!

Tony reentered traffic. This time he was only met with green lights.

He got to the driveway at one fifty eight. He opened the door at a minute-to. He came in, shut the door, took a few steps in, and stared at his watch. Tony would have been sitting over there, poring over her laptop, a cigarette in one hand, coffee beside her, probably trying to catch up with the latest editorials. Steve would probably have been punctual to the second. Ten seconds ... Eight ... Five ... Three ... Two ... One ...

Ding dong!

He turned around.

Tony would have gotten up slowly – he followed her with his gaze – and walked to the door.

She would have opened the door.

‘Hi, Ms. Lewis?’

‘Yes.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ he would have offered his hand. ‘Steve Adams.’

She would have shaken it confidently, then quickly led him in. He probably would already have recognized that she was his type.

Tony would have told him to sit on the couch. There.

‘First of all let me congratulate you on your upcoming wedding, yadda-yadda-yadda, I’ve spoken to your fiancé, blah-blah-blah, he’s a nice guy, blah-blah-blah.’

‘Would you like something to drink,’ she would have asked.

He would have asked for an espresso, which is what Tony had seen him ask for twice already. When she would have returned with a cup, she’d have sat opposite him on the couch, as she’d always done with new people. She’d have put on her open-and-nice-but-I’m-still-boss attitude.

‘Anyway,’ Steve would have said. ‘I’d like to talk over a couple of things with you.’

‘Sure.’

Tony now sat on the smaller couch, watching the two ghosts converse in front of him.

First, there’d have been serious talk. But after a couple of minutes ...

There it is! The first laugh Steve would have gotten out of her.

And then the second laugh.

And she would have made
him
laugh, too. He’d have been attracted to her, which would have made him prone to laugh.

And Tony? She was sensitive. She would have sensed his attraction. And someplace in the back of her mind, she’d have been flattered, especially by someone to whom she would have been attracted, too.

And they’d be looser now. The conversation would have flowed more freely. They’d talk about the project and about him, but then he would have asked her about herself. And Tony guessed that he would have said something about
him
self, as well. And then ...

And then, of course, they would have gotten to speak of the BBC School of Communications.

She was in television, he was in television. It was inevitable. And it would have to have happened in the first half hour of the conversation.

Then there’d have been a bond. About that. A small bond. And the rest of the conversation would have been about that. And time would fly. Then one of them would have looked at the time, and seen that it’s time to go. But the rapport would be there, and Tony would be more willing now to hold the interview in front of the ‘camera’. They’d have set another date, and Steve would have left.

There. Right through that door.

Tony looked at the door, then back at the couch, at Tony’s ghost. How much time would she have needed to recover? How much time would she have spent thinking about that man she’d just left, about things that would now never be?

Tony sat down. Nothing. Nothing would have happened.

Still, it didn’t have to be
exactly
that way. Maybe something else would have happened. Maybe ...

Ding Dong!

He turned around. And watched their first meeting again. But this time it was different.

And when Steve left, Tony watched it again.

I’m driving myself crazy, he thought. But he did it again.

And again.

And ...

~

His cellphone rang.

Tony opened his eyes. He must have fallen asleep on the sofa, fully clothed. He was groggy, as if he’d slept for two days.

His cellphone rang again. He stood up, took it out of his pocket, and looked at it. Only a quarter to six p.m. He didn’t recognize the number.

“Tony Moore,” he answered.

“Tony, hi. It’s Steve.”

“Steve,” Tony rubbed his eyes. The sun was beginning to set outside. The house was getting dark. “Hi. What can I do for you?”

“I know we had an appointment at six, but I can’t keep it. I just had an accident with the car.”

“What? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I had to avoid hitting this guy that just jumped at me, and I swerved into a laundromat.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I was actually in an action flick for a second, with all that glass shattering. And I crashed into a washing machine, too”

“But you’re fine?”

“Yeah. Just, you know, my heart is racing.”

“Look. Where are you?”

“The corner of East 56th and 2nd Avenue.”

“That’s on my way to the office. I can swing by and pick you up. We’ll hold the interview then.”

“Thanks, but I’m waiting for the tow truck, and – Hey! Mr. Comic Relief, I’m
talking
here!” There was shouting in the background. Steve was yelling at someone, his mouth far from the mouthpiece. “Enough!” Then his voice was louder again. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“‘Mr. Comic Relief’?”

“This guy here looks like one of those ridiculous characters from the Commedia Del’Arte, Pantalone, I think his name is. All
right
!” Steve shouted, clearly at Mr. Comic Relief, as hair on the back of Tony’s neck rose in a queer feeling of déjà vu. “Yes, I can see the damage! We’ll compensate you! Stop shouting! I can see the damage! Stop! Shouting! Go back in! Go in!” And then, his mouth clearly closer to the phone, he said to Tony. “Anyway, I have to wait here for the tow truck. And we have to see how much everything is going to cost, and I have to check if any of our equipment was damaged. So we’ll have to reschedule. Tomorrow morning, is that all right with you?”

“I don’t have my schedule in front of me. But, sure, talk to Sylvia, and she’ll set it up.”

“Great. Thanks. Bye.”

“Wait! Steve, the car. It’s your car that got smashed, right?”

“Sure.”

“And I’m guessing it’s rented, right?”

“Of course.”

“Um ... Can I just ... guess here ... The color of your car ... Is it ...” he almost couldn’t breathe. “Is it ... red?”

There was a short silence on the other side. And then, “What, did you see it?”