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Attach ments(53)

By:Rainbow Rowell


<<Jennifer to Beth>> But you met the right person, too, didn’t you?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> I don’t know if I even believe in that anymore. The right guy. The perfect guy. The one. I’ve lost faith in “the.”

<<Jennifer to Beth>> How do you feel about “a” and “an”?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Indifferent.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> So you’re considering a life without articles?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> And true love.





LINCOLN ATE DINNER in the break room at the same time every night now, thinking that might increase his chances of seeing Beth. Doris appreciated the company. She liked to take her break at nine sharp.

She always brought a turkey sandwich on white bread and bought herself a Diet Slice from the machine.

“Does your girlfriend make you those huge dinners?” she asked one night as he was heating up a plate of spinach-and-potato pizza.

“My mom does,” he said. Sheepishly.

“No wonder you’re so big,” Doris said.

He took his plate out of the microwave and looked at it. It really was an awful lot of pizza. He’d heard people say their appetite decreased when they exercised a lot, but he was hungrier than ever.

He’d started taking bananas with him to the gym so that he’d have something to eat in the car as soon as he left.

“She must be a good cook, your mother. It always smells like a fancy restaurant when you’re in here.”

“Definitely. She’s a great cook.”

“I’ve never been much in the kitchen. I can make meat loaf and pork chops and green-bean casserole, but Paul had to cook for himself if he wanted something fancy. What is that? It looks like a giant sandwich.”

“It’s pizza,” Lincoln said. “Double-crust, spinach and potato. I think it’s an Italian thing. Would you like to try some?”

“If you’re offering,” Doris said eagerly. He pulled off a slice of his pizza for her. There was still plenty left on his plate.

“Oh, that’s good,” Doris said after a bite, “and I don’t even like spinach. Are you Italian?”

“No,” he said, “German mostly, a little Irish. My mom just likes to cook.”

“Lucky you,” she said, taking another big bite.

“Do you have children?” Lincoln asked.

“Nyah. Paul and I never had kids. I guess we did the same thing as everybody else does, but nothing ever happened. In those days, if you didn’t have kids, you didn’t have kids. You didn’t go to a doctor to see who was responsible. My sister was married for fifteen years before she got pregnant. I thought that might happen to us, too, but it never did …Just as well, I guess.”

They both chewed in silence. Lincoln didn’t trust himself to make more small talk. He hadn’t meant to ask such a personal question.

“My mom made carrot cake this morning,” he said, “and she gave me way too much. Do you want to split it?”

“Sure, if you’re offering.”

They were just finishing their cake when a young woman walked into the break room. Lincoln sat up extra straight until he recognized her as one of the copy editors, the small girl who’d offered him banana bread. She smiled nervously at him.

“You’re the IT guy, right?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. We tried calling your office, but you weren’t there. A couple of us can’t get on the server. We’re sort of on deadline. I’m sorry”—the girl looked at Doris—“I know you’re on break.”

“Don’t apologize to me, honey,” Doris said. “It won’t be the first time a man has left me for a younger woman.”

Lincoln was already standing. “That’s okay, let me see if I can help.”

“I really am sorry,” the girl said as they walked to the newsroom.

“It’s okay,” he said, “really. It’s my job.”

“I’m sorry I called you the IT guy. I didn’t—nobody on the desk knows your name.”

“I answer to IT guy, don’t worry about it.”

She nodded, uncomfortably.

“But my name is Lincoln,” he said, holding his hand out to her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, relieved, taking his hand. “I’m Emilie.”

They were at her computer now. “Can you show me what it’s doing?” he asked. She sat down and tried to log on to the server. An error message popped up.

“That happens every time,” she said.

“That’s an easy fix,” he said, leaning over to take her mouse. Her hand was still there. Both of their hands jumped, and he felt himself blushing. If this was how he acted around a girl he wasn’t at all attracted to, how would he act if he ever had to fix Beth’s computer? He might throw up on her.