Chapter Two

Nancy stared out her office window wistfully, ignoring the stack of memos in her inbox. The sun burned brightly outside, tempting her to ditch the office—productivity be damned. Her office was neat—painfully neat—but still managed to feel like a padded cell that day. She unlocked her phone and tapped her messages app, and selected her favorite person.

Nancy: [1:22 PM] "Hey, you free this weekend? I could really use some bestie time. Feeling kinda lonely."

Nellie: [1:24 PM] "Totally! Saturday early evening work? But can it be near me? I don’t want to trek too far. Hannah has been a daredevil lately. Urgent care twice this week."

Nancy: [1:25 PM] "You got it. Somewhere with cocktails. Strong ones."

Saturday arrived with the same energy Nancy brought to most social engagements: nervous excitement with a pinch of self-doubt. The restaurant was tastefully upscale but not intimidating. Its lighting was dim, casting a warm amber tone across the bar. Leather booths and brass fixtures added to its grown-up charm.

Nancy swirled the tiny umbrella in her lavender gin cocktail while Nellie sipped her diet soda with the calm confidence of a mom who had already negotiated with tiny terrorists earlier that day.

"So," Nancy said, already halfway into her second drink, "still no romantic leads for me. Just a series of disappointing dinners and men who can’t handle a woman who laughs during sex."

Nellie choked a little on her soda. "Still giggling?"

"Relentlessly," Nancy admitted. "It’s like my body and brain short-circuit the second things get hot. I laugh! And they all get this wounded-ego look, like I’ve kicked their puppy."

Nellie leaned an elbow on the table. "Have you considered dating someone who isn’t just your type? Maybe cast a wider net?"

"I’ve met good matches," Nancy said, dragging her tiny toy in a lazy circle. "They just take it all so seriously. I want someone who can be silly. Laugh when I laugh. Not make me feel like I broke the universe."

Nellie gave her a look somewhere between soft and stern. "He's out there. But you’re not gonna find him if you keep retreating like a hermit crab every time you get disappointed. Come on. What about trying a dating app again? Or I don’t know—an improv comedy night? Meet a guy who thinks he’s funny."

"Improv guys all think they’re God’s gift," Nancy said flatly. "And they’re not."

Nellie giggled. "Okay, fair. But something! You can’t keep threatening to become a spinster witch with twelve cats."

"Why not? I’d be powerful. Cursing the youth for their optimism. Wearing dramatic robes."

"You’d overheat in the robes," Nellie countered. "Also, you're still part of the youth. Like it or not. Big future and all that."

Nancy gave her a mock salute with her third cocktail. "Ma’am, yes, ma’am."

A stumbling drunk man ambled over, sloshing a little of his beer on the floor. "Hey, sweetheart. You need a ride home? I got room on my motorcycle."

Nancy didn’t skip a beat. "Only if it’s headed straight into a volcano."

Nellie stood, already placing a supportive arm around Nancy’s waist. "We’ve got it covered, thanks."

They exited the bar, the brisk suburban air cooling Nancy’s flushed face. In the backseat of Nellie’s car, she sprawled dramatically, arms thrown over her eyes.

"Men are so easy to manipulate. But still so easy to disappoint. I wish I could be a lesbian. Life would be easier."

"Oh please," Nellie said, turning out of the parking lot. "Women are just as complicated. You’d still be crying into your cocktails."

Nancy sighed like a Shakespearean heroine. "Then I am doomed."

Elijah opened the front door before they even got all the way up the walkway. His short stature and newly balding spot gave him nothing but loving-dad vibes, and he loved Nellie fiercely. He smiled warmly. "You’re lookin’ great ladies! I’ll go make up the guest room."

"Thanks, Elijah," Nancy said with a slight wobble, leaning into Nellie for support.

"Go get some water in her before she turns into a gremlin," he said with a chuckle before disappearing down the hall.

Nancy sat at the kitchen bar, still buzzed, taking in the familiar home. Crayon drawings were stuck proudly to the fridge. Toys lined the floor in vague clusters, like art installations.

"I have my whole life in order," Nancy said, rubbing her temples. "I’ve got the job, the condo, the friends. But this part—this love thing—it’s like someone forgot to program it in. It’d be fine if I were asexual. But I’m not. I have wants."

Nellie walked around the bar and pulled her into a hug. "You’ll find your person. I promise. And I’m gonna help you. We’re in this together."

Nancy woke to squeals of delight and a bouncing mattress.

"Auntie! Auntie! Wake up!"

Tiny bodies flopped onto the bed like puppies. Nancy laughed, wrestling with them gently.

"You little monkeys—are you trying to kill me with joy?"

"Pancakes!" shouted Hannah. Leah echoed, "Dancing pancakes!"

She let herself be dragged to the kitchen where Nellie and Elijah were indeed dancing—awkwardly, sweetly—at the stove while flipping pancakes. Nancy watched them, hair a mess, heart a little tender.

"This," she said, settling into a chair, "this is what I want. Minus the small humans. I think I’m good with nieces."

"You can borrow them whenever you want," Nellie said. "Especially when they start fighting over glitter glue."

After breakfast, Nancy asked to borrow clothes. Nellie waved toward the closet. "Go wild. You know where the leggings live."

Elijah offered her a ride back to her car. "I’ve got errands in town anyway, I’ll save you the uber fee."

The car ride was warm and easy.

"Hannah’s really getting into soccer," Elijah said. "She’s a beast on defense. Leah’s been drawing on every surface."

"She’s an artist in the making," Nancy said. "There’s this great kid-friendly drawing tablet we use at work. I’ll help pitch in for her birthday."

Elijah smiled. "Thanks, Nancy. That means a lot."

They pulled up beside her car.

"You know," he said, pausing before she got out, "you’re a catch. I’d love to see you happy, in whatever way that looks like. And if you ever need anything—anything at all—I’m here. You’re not just Nellie’s best friend. You’re my friend, too."

Nancy smiled, touched. She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Elijah. Really."

She watched him drive off, then sat in her car for a few minutes, thinking. The laughter from last night. The dancing. The warmth. She turned on her GPS and music, then headed home.

Back in her condo, the silence was less suffocating than usual. She ran a hot bath, sank in with a sigh, and let her body relax. Afterward, in clean pajamas and her favorite slippers, she sat down at her laptop.

She opened a dating site.

She chose her pictures carefully—ones where she looked happy, maybe a little goofy. She kept her bio light but honest.

"Sales professional. City dweller. Silly by nature. Giggler in all the wrong moments. Don’t want kids, but love my nieces. Let’s laugh at the absurd together."

She left her job vague, skipped the company name. Let them get to know her first. She hit publish. Then walked away. She made a loaf of bread she’d been meaning to try. Did some light yoga. Played a few hours of her favorite cozy game on her Switch.

Later that evening, she returned to her laptop and there were a few matches. A handful of messages.

She raised an eyebrow, clicked the first message, and started reading.

Username: JustBeingReal101
Time: 7:42 PM

"You’re cute, but let’s be honest—women are good for one thing, and it ain’t sales. You’d be a lot more successful on your knees."

Nancy rolled her eyes. Of course the first message she gets is from a pompous dick. Unsurprisingly his little profile picture is of him wearing a hat and sunglasses. Next!

Username: LoveQuest55
Time: 7:45 PM

"Hello beautiful I see your smile and I feel strong connection. Send me your number and we talk more ❤️❤️❤️"

Ah yes, very human. Not at all a scam-bot.

Username: FutureDad89
Time: 7:48 PM

"No kids? What a waste of good genes. You’ll change your mind when your clock starts screaming."

Nancy couldn’t even count on her hands the amount of times people have told her that she’d change her mind about wanting kids. Spoiler alert, she hasn’t.

Username: EthanFromSomewhere
Time: 7:53 PM

"Hey… I’m not even sure what to say, honestly. You just seemed cool, and I guess I wanted to say hi. Hope that’s okay."

Nancy sat back in her chair and thought, well this has potential. She clicked on his profile to get a sense of what he wanted to show of himself.

Username: EthanFromSomewhere
Location: About 5 miles away
Age: 36
Job: Data Analyst
Education: BA in Computer Science
Bio:

“I overthink everything, make really good grilled cheese, and talk too much when I’m nervous. Big fan of sci-fi, podcasts about cults, and people who can laugh at themselves. Probably not cool enough to be here, but figured I’d give it a shot anyway. I don’t have a clever line — I just like when people are kind. Lover of books, bagels, and board games. Decent cook. Terrible at texting back. Working on it. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

His pictures weren’t exactly what you’d call clear or professional. Very much taken like a typical man who wasn’t interested in selfie culture. One was a very blurry selfie taken on a hiking trail and it looked as though the wind was quite intense that day. His second picture was of him reading with a cat on his lap. The angle was a bit candid and the flash really blew him out. The cats eyes were even red like it had been taken with one of those old disposable cameras from the early 00’s. The third photo was a group photo, which is usually frowned upon on dating sites, but it looks like trivia night. His arm is up and he looks enthusiastic, which made Nancy smile.

Nancy hovered over the message button, her cursor poised like it was weighing the fate of her entire love life. Something about Ethan’s profile — chaotic photos, dorky energy, a cat with devil eyes — made her feel oddly...hopeful. Like maybe this wasn’t a trap. Like maybe he was just another person trying to find someone to laugh at bad trivia team names with. She reread his bio:
“Lover of books, bagels, and board games. Decent cook. Terrible at texting back. Working on it. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

She grinned. Same.

Sighing out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, she typed:

“Okay, I have to ask… what was the trivia team name? You looked very confident in that photo.”

She hit send and immediately regretted everything. What if it was dumb? What if he didn’t respond? What if—

Ping.

He responded in less than a minute.

Ethan:
“😂 Wow okay, didn’t expect anyone to call me out like that. It was ‘Quizteama Aguilera.’ And yes, I did come up with it. And yes, I’m very proud.”

Nancy snorted, out loud.

Nancy:
“That’s... actually amazing. I’m not even mad.”

Ethan:
“You should be. We came in second place. I missed the final question because I panicked and said ‘Adam West’ instead of ‘Michael Keaton.’ I still lose sleep over it.”

Nancy:
“Understandable. Adam West was clearly a superior ‘Batman’, so you were well within your rights.”

Ethan:
“Thank you for validating my pain.”

They kept messaging. The rhythm was easy. Playful. She found herself smiling more than she meant to — the kind that made her blush and feel bubbly, even as she tried to pretend she wasn’t already a little invested. His typing bubbles kept popping up and disappearing, like he was nervously revising everything before hitting send. It was cute. Real.

After a while, he asked:

Ethan:
“Hey, this is probably super forward, but would you maybe want to keep talking on the app for a bit and then… maybe meet for coffee? No pressure at all — just putting it out there.”

Nancy stared at the screen, her heart thudding once, then settling.

Nancy:
“I’d like that. Coffee sounds nice.”