The line between friendship and love can sometimes become blurred. Sal, Major, and Abby have a complex relationship. When Major and Abby call off their engagement and Major announces he’s leaving the country, Sal is devastated and wonders if he’s to blame.
Five years later, Major returns in time to find Sal obsessed with tracking down a stranger he flirted with at a stoplight. Wanting nothing more than for his friend to find true love, Major agrees to help in the search. The two enlist Abby, as well.
Somewhere along the line, the trio becomes a quartet, old feelings resurface, old wounds are healed, and everyone learns where love really is.
I pretended to be looking at my phone as we silently sat at the intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. I didn’t want to look at Major. I didn’t want to read in his eyes any thoughts similar to the ones Abby had so freely expressed.
“Still searching social media?”
“Umm-hmm.”
Truthfully, I was just reading the same weather forecast over and over. The thermometer was allegedly going to hit 90 by mid-week. Next thing I knew, I was fumbling to catch my new iPhone 6 when we made a rather abrupt U-turn. “Where are we going?”
“Look.” Major pointed at the window. “Two cars ahead.”
It was the white pickup with the rainbow sticker.
“I didn’t see who was driving, but it looks like Red Light, Yellow Lab, Green Eye’s truck, right?”
“I guess. So what? We’re going to follow him?”
“Why not?”
“The word ‘stalker’ comes to mind.” So did “flake,” “flighty,” “immature,” and “heartbroken,” the words Abby had used to describe me to Major and the one she predicted for anyone dumb enough to get with me.
“Naw. If we catch up to him, you just introduce yourself.”
“‘Hi. I’ve been trying to track you down over two weeks based on a three second interaction at a traffic stop.’ Yeah. Stalker.”
“Don’t chicken out now, Sally, not when you’re so close to potentially having what you’ve been dreaming of.”
Even I was surprised by the sound of disgust that came out of me.
“Suddenly you don’t believe in love ... in hope ... in possibilities?” Major asked me.
“Suddenly I don’t.”
“Well, maybe I believe enough for the both of us. Look. He turned in to the community theater. Actors are sexy.”
“And notoriously self-centered.” Maybe AJ and I really were a perfect match, I thought as I glanced up at the huge barn-like building. Attached gold letters about two feet tall read Brewster Center for the Performing Arts. A poster behind glass on the red wood siding advertised the next show to come -- Oliver -- opening the second weekend in July.
“I love that show. We should go see it.”
“Hmm.”
Gravel crunched beneath our tires as we took the same path the white pickup had, around to the back of the structure. My heart was all a flutter -- nerves, mostly, rather than any sort of quixotic anticipation. The word was on my mind now.
Fuck that, I thought. What did it matter if AJ turned out to be everything I wanted, a kindergarten teacher/spy who could fix the plumbing in my house and put up with my lousy mood days? I was no good at being in love -- incapable of having a relationship. Abby said so, and Major didn’t really put up much of an argument against it. Still, when the white truck’s driver side door opened, I felt my spirits lift just a little bit. I could at least fuck the hell out of the -- woman?
