My Favorite Half-Night Stand(70)

(Can we agree by the way that Helen Hunt was way too hot for him? My god. Ew!)

Love,

Mills

From: Millie M.

Sent: 9:14 pm, May 9

I ran into Alex today while getting lunch, and I swear we both had the guiltiest looks on our faces after we hugged, like I’m not supposed to get the guy friends in this divorce—and we both know it. So, I wanted to tell you that I saw Alex, but I promise not to make plans with any of them without your permission.

It was so good to see him, though. I miss you, of course, but I miss them, too. I’ve never had friends like this, and I swear I am this close to getting a cat because I am so fucking lonely.

I want you to know that Ed and Alex really wanted no part of the secret Catherine situation. Ed was a basket case, and Alex seemed mostly perplexed by the whole thing. If you’re mad at anyone, of course, be mad at me. Those guys are good, and you deserve good.

I’m sorry I ever let you believe otherwise.

Love,

Mills



Usually she writes at night. I’ve come to expect it, and I wonder what will happen if, one day, I check the IRL app when I head to bed, or when I first wake up in the morning, and there isn’t a note there.

I look forward to them, even if I’m not sure how I want to reply yet. I find that by around four in the afternoon, my stomach feels like it’s risen to my chest, my hands are restless, and I feel the same way I used to feel before starting a race: excited, but also a little queasy.

Millie’s honesty is refreshing, but it’s also disorienting. It makes me feel famished—I want more—and it’s also frustrating to continue to read it, knowing that it’s so much harder for her to do it in person.

But she is trying. Maybe it’s a start.

I read last night’s message again, and then get to work early to help Shaylene practice a presentation she’s giving to the department at eleven. Since she’s finishing up her first year of graduate studies, she has to present the work she’s done so far. It’s a big milestone for the first-year students, and Shaylene—who is much like my father, which is to say not a natural orator—has been dreading this for weeks.

So it is both nice and surprising to find Ed already there, going through it with her. It looks like they’ve been here for some time already: notes are scattered across the conference room table, the slide projector is on, and Shaylene is bent over her laptop, editing a slide.

Perhaps not surprisingly, things are still weird with Ed. Mostly what’s weird is treating him like any other employee in the lab, rather than my right hand and one of my best friends. He’s been nothing but professional since all the crap with Millie and Cat went down, but it stings a little when we both go to make an old inside joke then abruptly stop. Or when I see him leaving to go meet Chris and Alex for lunch and he no longer asks if I want to come.

Ed looks up when I come into the conference room, and with a quiet “Hey, Reid,” he bends to collect his notebook and pen, like he’s going to gather his things and leave me to help Shaylene prep solo.

“Stay, Ed,” I say. “I was just coming to make sure everything was going okay.”

We’ve spoken; it’s not like there’s a complete silent treatment happening in the lab, but I’m sure everyone notices that something has changed. Shaylene looks back and forth between the two of us, concerned.

“She’s good,” Ed says. “I pretended to be Scott and grilled her about all the experimental minutiae, and she seems pretty firm on everything.”

Shaylene confirms this with a nod. “He was really helpful.” She glances at Ed and gives him a shy flash of a smile. “Thanks, Ed.”

“Good; good job.” I hesitate, unsure whether either of them needs me there. I am increasingly aware of having become The Boss in the past year or so—especially after procuring tenure. With that awareness comes the next one—that I am somewhat scary, and therefore not always a grad student’s first choice to work out practice talks. “Okay, I’ll be down in my office if anyone needs me.”

I turn to leave, but Shaylene stops me. “Dr. Campbell? Would you like to go get coffee with us?”

She looks at Ed and nods, like she’s prompting him. He wordlessly scrutinizes her for a few beats before quickly nodding, too.

“Yes. Coffee,” he says. “Right.”

I check my watch. I’ve generally avoided spending much time with Ed if I don’t need to, but right now I don’t have any good reason to decline. “Sure.”

But as soon as we get out in the hall, Shaylene pulls up short. “You know what? I think I want to go tinker with my transition slides a little. You guys go on ahead. I’ll catch you in a bit.”

Ed and I stand there, aware that we’ve been set up by a wily twenty-two-year-old. We watch her walk down the hall toward the stairwell leading to our lab.

Ed growls, and then silence descends. I feel him turn to look at me. “We don’t have to go grab coffee, you know.”

“Did Shaylene really just set us up?” I ask.

“Yup.” He reaches up, and his fingers disappear in his mop of hair as he scratches his scalp. “The joke in the lab is that Mom and Dad are fighting.”

I stare at him, somewhat speechless.

“I think I’m the mom,” he clarifies. “Which is pretty rad.”