“Thanks for stopping in! Great to catch up!” Teddy called after him, and he gave his typical grunt in response.
Teddy sighed. She was starting to take all this rejection a bit personally.
16
Dear Everett,
Thank you for responding. I’ll admit, I hoped for a response but didn’t expect one, given the whole “I’m an adult woman and not a child” thing.
And thank you for your advice to think about what I loved doing as a child. Most of what I remember from my childhood involves books. I spent a lot of time sitting in the maple tree in our backyard while reading and rereading library copies of the entire Alice series by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.
I’m not sure that interest really translates to a career, but then again, it’s also probably too late to become a career flutist. Maybe I should spend more time reading about the trials and tribulations of adolescent girls. Maybe I should find a new maple tree (something tells me my mom would balk if I showed up at her house and started reading in her tree). You’ve given me a lot of things to think about.
In the spirit of complete transparency, I should tell you that I’ve started a new project to find my “thing.” Do you know the famous quote “Do one thing every day that scares you”? A lot of people think Eleanor Roosevelt said it, but it sounds like it’s kind of a Pablo Picasso situation. Whoever said it, it’s behind my project. With the help of my roommates, I’m doing one thing every day that scares me.
And also, I must admit, my project is more than a little bit inspired by you and the advice you gave Keegan. Do you remember when you told him he should try new things, even and especially the things that scared him? Maybe you don’t remember saying that, because it’s probably second nature to you. But it isn’t to me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So now . . . I’m doing it.
Tonight I attended a Jazzercise class with my boss. Are you familiar with the phenomenon of Jazzercise? I spent the last hour wearing pizza-print leggings (I borrowed them from my roommate and they barely fit) while dancing to a playlist largely dedicated to the Jonas Brothers. I regret to report that I now feel great. I guess endorphins are real, and also I might like the Jonas Brothers now. There are a lot of changes happening in my life, and frankly, I’m scared.
But even though I’m scared of my newfound love for athletic wear and the JoBros (that’s what I call them now that I’m a fan), I’m still glad I went. Because here’s the thing: I was pretty miserable when my boyfriend dumped me. And although I’m feeling better every day, sometimes I still feel like everyone I encounter can see the word REJECT stamped on my forehead, like they can tell I’m damaged goods before I even open my mouth. But it’s hard to be sad when I’m scared, and it’s hard to be sad or scared when one of the Jonas Brothers is crooning about how he’s a sucker for me.
I’m sorry. I know that’s a lot for an email, especially because I sort of know you and you have no idea who I am. But it’s late and I’m tired, emotional, and drunk on Jazzercise.
Thank you again for writing back to me. I know you must be busy, what with your show and all.
Yours till Niagara Falls,
Theodora
PS: I don’t recommend a breakup bob. Have you ever been dumped? Because if so, you should consider literally any other haircut. It looks terrible and I hate it, but that’s the problem with rash hair decisions. You have to accept your mistakes and live with them for months.
PPS: I just googled it, and it turns out flute players are sometimes called flautists. Who knew? Flautists, presumably.
It took Teddy hours to compose her email to Everett, but only one and a half minutes to regret it. When the enormity of what she’d told Everett finally sank in, Teddy actually, literally smacked herself on the forehead. Imagine telling a beautiful, sensitive man that you’re damaged goods. Or that your hair looked bad. She was never going to Jazzercise again; clearly it had adverse effects on her mental function.
But it was too late. The email was out there, floating through . . . cyberspace? Teddy didn’t really know what happened with emails, but she knew one thing: she had said what she was feeling to a man for the first time in forever, and now he was never going to email her again.
17
“Everett.”
Everett looked up from his laptop, startled, to see Astrid and Jeremy staring at him. Astrid looked annoyed, while Jeremy looked curious.
“Why do I keep finding you smiling at your laptop?” Astrid asked, walking over to look at his screen. “This is uncomfortable. What are you doing?”
“Are you watching game shows on there?” Jeremy asked. “They always make me laugh. Family Feud, man.”
“Which host?” Everett asked. “We talkin’ current Steve Harvey run? Or are you going back to Richard Karn?”
Jeremy shook his head. “Steve Harvey’s the GOAT, but don’t sleep on Louie Anderson.”
Everett nodded, impressed. “Good picks.”
Astrid snapped her fingers, but Everett knew her well enough to know that she was holding back a smile.
“Let’s focus on Everett and whatever strange thing he’s got going on. Oh, no,” Astrid said, finally looking at his screen. “Is this another email? You’re smiling like this over email?”
Jeremy peered over his shoulder. “Well, well, well,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Looks like our pal Everett has a lady friend.”
“More like lady acquaintance,” Everett clarified. “Lady associate?”
“That sounds like an escort,” Jeremy said. “Is she an escort?”
Astrid narrowed her eyes. “Do escorts typically write lengthy emails? Serious question. I wouldn’t know.”
“She’s my pen pal,” Everett said. “I guess. This is only her second email to me.”
“Nice,” Jeremy said, nodding. “That’s how I met my wife. We started messaging on Myspace, and look at us now.”
“Still on Myspace?” Astrid asked, an eyebrow raised.
“No. Married for seven years,” Jeremy said. “All I’m saying is, words can be romantic. She fell in love with my messages long before we met in person.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Everett said, closing his laptop. “Who said anything about love?”
“Yeah,” said Astrid with a smug smile. “We all know Everett doesn’t do relationships, because that would mean spending time on something that isn’t work. He’s content to have an unrequited crush on young Carol Kane.”
“Or, frankly, old Carol Kane. At any age, that woman can get it. Her sense of comedic timing is great, and she’s got those big eyes,” Everett said, deflecting the insult. He had zero desire to talk about the fact that it had been years since his last serious relationship, and look how that had turned out. He had his reasons for focusing on work.