“Really?” Jeri replied, “I was thinking more like George Clooney.”
Allie flung the Polaroid onto the bar. “Goddammit Jeri, I can’t believe you’re actually walking into this. Why in the world would you even pretend to–”
“Be right back,” Jeri interrupted as a young man and woman sat down at the far end of the bar. Allie bit her tongue and sighed audibly as Jeri walked away. A few stools away, a stout, middle-aged man with a military-style crew cut looked over at Allie and smiled. She could tell from his smug grin that he’d been eavesdropping on their conversation. She turned and looked at him sourly.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Hi. My name’s Tom,” the man replied. “Tom Coleman. Sounds like you and your friend are having a pretty serious conversation. Can I give you some advice?”
Allie gave him a venomous look. “Hi Tom, my name’s not… as in not interested. Yes, my friend and I are having a serious conversation, and as soon as she returns we’re going to continue it. Feel free to continue listening as you’ve so obviously been doing so far, but do us all a favor and keep any advice to yourself.”
The man started to respond, but held his tongue as Allie rolled her eyes and raised her hand for him to stop. She turned her attention back to the letter.
“Sorry Allie,” Jeri replied when she returned. “Now, what were you saying?”
“Forget it. Look,” Allie said, examining the typed pages, “there’s something really weird about this letter. I mean the content. Does this even make any sense to you?”
“Sure it does. There’s a popular new toy coming out soon and we should buy it before the Christmas rush. What’s not to understand?”
“Go to hell, Jeri.”
Jeri sighed. As much as she loved Allie, her best friend usually took the irritating position of disliking anyone who showed any interest in Jeri that didn’t fit within Allie’s idea of normal. She knew the attitude was simply a protective one, and the irony of Allie’s own history of sordid relationships with stereotypical “bad boys” wasn’t lost on Jeri, but at times these talks were simply exhausting.
“Come on, Allie… have any of his letters made sense?”
“No, I mean it,” Allie replied, her expression stern. “Why would he be talking about these Brainybuddies? Does he really think anybody would give a shit about some weird toy for five-year-olds? And besides, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy that has armloads of family-oriented friends with white picket-fence houses and two kids in tow.” She looked up from the letter and took a long sip of her wine. “It’s just all very odd. And even stranger is the fact that he didn’t write anything personal to you. I’d expect a stalker to at least take the time to write me a handwritten note.”
Jeri gave her an amused look.
“What?” Allie asked.
“Turn the photo over.”
Allie grabbed the Polaroid and flipped it over. A note in the same handwriting as the previous letters was quickly scribbled in blue ink on the back.
Jeri –
Sorry to make you a party to chain mail, but I never leave a friend out of “the know”. Our kids will be gorgeous Jeri, I’m sure of it.
Ta!
MJLSG
p.s. Have you made a shrine for my wellspring of romantic ravings at the bar yet? You really ought to. I’m shouting my love from the tallest Aquilaria in Bhutan and I want everyone to hear it. Besides, people love this stuff.
Allie pushed the photo away and crossed her arms on the bar heavily. Her eyes flicked nervously around the saloon before pausing on the wall of letters. Jeri noticed that her normally beautiful face had taken on a tired, resigned expression.
“Clever, this guy,” Allie whispered. “Very, very clever.”
The evening crowd was beginning to trickle into Joe’s Last Stand Saloon and Jeri once again left her friend to make drink orders and fill pints of beer. She returned a few minutes later to find Allie flanked on both sides by young men. Despite the fact that this was usually her favorite position to be in, Allie sat rigidly at the bar, distracted and abnormally quiet.
“Are you okay?”
Allie looked up at Jeri with glazed eyes. She considered her friend carefully for a moment before speaking. “Don’t take this the wrong way sweetie, but I hope this is the last letter you ever get from this guy, because that’s the best possible way this could end.”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“No honey, I think you’re under reacting.” Allie leaned forward to make sure Jeri could hear her over the growing din of the bar. “You don’t know the first thing about this guy, Jeri– his name, what he does, where he’s from… Christ, you don’t even know what he really looks like. But he seems to know a helluva lot about you.”