Attach ments(97)

“I’ll come back,” he said, as much to himself as to Derek. I can’t make myself talk to her if she isn’t even here, he thought. This doesn’t count as running away.





From: Beth Fremont

To: Jennifer Scribner-Snyder

Sent: Mon, 03/20/2000 12:22 PM

Subject: Remember when I said it was too soon to date?

Guess I was wrong. I have a date.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> With Your Cute Guy?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> With a cute guy, but not My Cute Guy. Remember last year, when I first wrote about the Indian Hills theater, and I told that cute pharmacy student I interviewed that I was engaged?

Well, I ran into him last night at the big farewell gala.

He came over to talk to me and said that he’d been reading my reviews since I interviewed him, and that my Titanic review had made him laugh out loud. And I said that Titanic had made me laugh out loud. And then we both laughed at how funny I am, and he asked if it would be a conflict of interest if he bought me a drink.

I thought it probably would be, so I bought him a drink instead. And we ended up sitting next to each other during the showing of the Indian Hill’s very last movie, How the West Was Won , one of the last films ever made in Cinerama.

How the West Was Won is 162 minutes long, almost three hours, plus there was an intermission. I see so many movies by myself, I’d forgotten what it’s like to sit next to a guy in the theater, a guy who keeps looking up at you every few minutes, just as you’re looking up at him. I’d forgotten about the shoulder touching and the whispering and the leaning in.

Sean—that’s right, he has a name, a real name, there will be no “Hot Protester Guy” or “Little Red- Haired Pharmacy Student”—and I stayed in our seats during the intermission, and talked about how we like Henry Fonda better than John Wayne, and Karl Malden best of all.

And when the movie was over, we sat all the way through the credits, then lingered in the lobby.

And finally, he said, “I suppose you’re probably still engaged.”

“Actually,” I said, “I’m not.” (Some might say I never was.)

He made a really adorable surprised face, like that answer had taken him totally off his game.

“Oh …I’m sorry, I guess?”

I shook my head. “Don’t be.”

And then he said that he had expected to feel miserable and defeated all night, but that instead he felt like he’d just been on “the nicest first date” of his life.

And then he asked if we could see each other again.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> And you said?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> I said yes!

But I told him we couldn’t have our first official date until I was done covering the Indian Hills stuff. Conflict of interest, etc. He promised there wouldn’t be any more lawsuits or protests or appeals to the Planning Board. “I am suddenly very happy to say that we are out of options,” he said. “The preservation effort is utterly and absolutely over.”

I told him my last story would be about the demolition.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

“Me, too.”

And then he laughed, which made what he was about to say seem happy and nice instead of cheesy and stupid. “It’s a date.”

So there—I have a date!

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Congratulations! You’re happy about this, right?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> I really am. I know it’s soon. But, so far, I really like this guy, and he really likes me. (Really, really—I could tell.) If I said no, who knows when the next nice-guy-who-likes-me will come along? Maybe never.

Plus, as nice as he was and as cute as he is and as much as I was enjoying myself, I didn’t feel like he was casting a voodoo love spell on me (i.e. Chris).

He might even be the anti-Chris. A pharmacy student? A community activist? A guy who owns a navy blue suit? And he’s at least six inches shorter.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> Well, I did advise you to carpe cute guy. I guess you had my endorsement.

When are they tearing the theater down?

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Saturday. Those sick people need somewhere to park.

<<Jennifer to Beth>> So, technically, you are going on a date with this guy before you write your last Indian Hills story. You better not try to quote him; that wouldn’t be ethical.

<<Beth to Jennifer>> Imagine that quote: “Do you kiss on the first date?” one protester asked.

“Are Trix for kids?” this reporter responded.





LINCOLN DELETED THE messages. Then he dug deep into the WebFence hard drive and started scrubbing.

Slashing and burning through every layer of memory, pouring bleach on every remnant of information.