Not Perfect(36)

He paused here, and Tabitha nodded.

“Also,” Toby continued, “and I have to give you some credit for mentioning this earlier, there is that intriguing idea that Uranus sounds like your anus, and in my experience, older people are more focused on that body part since so many people have trouble in that area as they get older.”

Toby took a breath before continuing, and Tabitha thought she should feel embarrassed—sheepish at the very least—but she didn’t. She thought it was a brilliant idea.

“I imagine lots of images of Uranus—with the word written out, so people can say it, and if that leads them to a discussion about their time in the bathroom, then so be it. The way I see it, these people have lived long enough to know what they do and do not want to talk about.”

Tabitha smiled.

“So, where do I come in?”

“Well you’ve already helped me by letting me talk it through,” he said, shouting a little over the roar of the crowd. “But I was hoping you could help me with the menu. That’s a tricky one. I mean, what sort of food do you serve at a Uranus party?”

“Space food?” Tabitha asked.

“Yes! Space food! I can get some of that freeze-dried ice cream, maybe make a big vat of soup or overcooked pasta or whatever the astronauts bring with them when they travel. It’s probably really mushy. Perfect for the guests we’ll be receiving.”

Tabitha laughed so hard she couldn’t stop. She hadn’t laughed like this in . . . weeks? Months? When was the last time?

She reached out and brushed another piece of confetti off of Toby’s hand. It was warm and soft, and suddenly she had an urge to squeeze it. She let her hand rest on his for a beat longer than seemed normal, then pulled it away.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

“Now? But it’s the fourth quarter.”

“They’re gonna win despite that last touchdown. I just know it,” he said. “Come on, I have an idea.”

When they got up, Toby gathered his decorations, carefully folding the banners and placing them back in his backpack as two drunk girls, dressed completely in maize, pounced on the chairs, one sitting on Toby’s hand before he had a chance to move it. The girl didn’t even notice. He pulled his hand out and shook it, smiling, and then they pushed through the crowd and went out into the chilly evening. Tabitha hadn’t thought of the kids in a little while, but now she did.

“You know what?” she said, a little out of breath. “Eventually, I have to track down my kids and take care of them. How big a time commitment is this idea of yours?”

“Not too big,” he said. “Maybe thirty minutes, tops? I have to get home to Yo-A soon anyway. This is something I do sometimes. It might not work out. Timing is everything, as they say.”

“Okay,” she said, following him west on Spruce Street—actually toward her apartment—but he didn’t know that, so she felt okay about it.

“Where’s your daughter this weekend?” she asked.

“With her mom,” Toby said, and for a second Tabitha thought he wouldn’t say any more. But then, “Things have been pretty rough. She isn’t being very nice to me right now—my ex, that is—my daughter is the loveliest human being you have ever met. Well, that I’ve ever met. You probably feel that way about your own kids. Anyway, I don’t blame her, really, at all. Truth be told, there was an incident that sparked our downfall, and it was my fault, so, I guess, I get what I deserve.”

Tabitha was beyond curious, but if she asked him to explain, then she’d feel like she owed him an explanation of her own.

“I’m really sorry,” she said.

“Yeah, so am I.”

At Eighteenth Street he guided her right, and for a second, Tabitha panicked. Did he actually know where she lived? She tried to go over everything they had ever talked about to remember if she had told him. No, she wouldn’t do that. She barely knew him. She was happy when he stopped to cross the street toward Rittenhouse Square.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Okay, I’ll tell you, because I don’t want you to be disappointed. We’re going to this great coffee place called La Colombe, do you know it? Because at closing time they give away all the baked goods that are left at the end of the day. Now, when I say timing is everything, I mean it, because there might be none left, or there might already be so many people there that we won’t be able to grab any. We’ll see.”

Tabitha couldn’t believe it. She had once practically lived at La Colombe. Though, obviously, she hadn’t enjoyed one of their luscious cappuccinos in way too long. And free food? Was he kidding? How come she didn’t know about that? But the bigger question might be, why did he want to get free food? Did he somehow know she needed it? Did he suspect, since she was always pilfering the buffet at the Fox & Hound? Or did he need free food?

It looked like their timing was perfect because, while the place was still crowded enough, no one seemed particularly interested in the food that had been placed on top of the glass counter. There were cheese croissants, mini challah loaves, whole baguettes. There were chocolate scones and coffee cakes. Her mouth was already watering.

“Take a bag and fill it,” he said, pointing to the stack of large, brown-paper bags.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing a bag.