There was a moment there that she wanted to bolt, a moment where the sickness in her stomach threatened to creep up and be exposed for the world to see, but she sat there and put her hands to her face when the tears started.  Eric took one of her hands in his and all but forced her to look him in the eyes. 

            “If you can’t tell your inner-most secrets to a total stranger, who can you?” he asked and she lets out a cross between a laugh and a cough. 

He disarmed her with a joke like he used to and she relents, and tells Eric everything, from their first meeting and the way he smiled crookedly and she had to look down at her engagement ring to try and remember her fiancé’s name, to the games and jokes they would play, to the way he was always nice and supportive when no one else was, the way he seemed to want what was best for her more than what was best for him, she told him of the seemingly innocent flirtations and way it meant more to her than any of the awkward advances Roy had ever offered, of the first admission and the way she was so scared all she could do was push him away, of the second admission and their first kiss and how the world crumbled when she let him walk away and he really walked away and though he was an hour or so up the road it felt like he was across the Atlantic or on the other side of the Berlin Wall and how when it came down she knew she didn’t love Roy and she left him and started her fancy new life and that fancy new life was empty when she saw him again but he had moved on and why the fuck couldn’t she move on.

            He sat there, sipping his coffee and he listened to her rant with a patient ear she needed.  She hadn’t even told her mother all of what she told him. 

            When she finished talking, she looked down into her tea to hide from the embarrassment she knew she would find when she looked in his face.  After a moment, he spoke.  “Well, you can’t move on because you love him.”

            “Yeah.  But how could he do it and I can’t?”

            “You really think he’s moved on?  If it’s anything like you described, there is no moving on from something as big as that.”

            “He’s with her now.”  She finally met his eyes and saw an understanding there she hadn’t expected.

            “Probably because he thinks he can force himself to move on.  But here’s one thing I know for sure: guys, we’re idiots.  Look at me, for example: five years have come and gone since my one, true love died, and I know for sure, by all real in this world, that’s what she was, my one, true love.  Five years have passed, I’m back in America for what seems the first time and sitting still, sitting across from a beautiful, great woman, and I’m giving her advice about her feelings for someone else that doesn’t involve the phrase ‘jump into the sack with me’.  Babe, that’s because I’m a guy and an idiot. 

“Sure, I’m still mentally broken and shattered, but I’m also an idiot, like this guy.  And this girl, she might be nice and beautiful and smart and all that bullshit, but she’s not you, and she’ll never look like you or talk like you or laugh like you and so he’ll never be happy with her because she’s not you and don’t you get why that is? 

            “Because, sweetheart, I’m betting the two of you are meant to be one.  The way I understand this story, you two are meant for each other.  You want some more tea?”

            The sudden shift made Pam realize she believed every word that had left his lips.  She nodded and he stood from the table, picked up both of their cups and walked over to the counter.  Pam took some napkins from the dispenser that sat at their table and dried her cheeks, feeling like she was floating.  When he came back, he had an extra cup of coffee to go.  He pocketed a handful of sugar packets before sitting back down before her.

            “So, what’re you going to do?” he asked.

            “Think I might try and have a talk with him.”

            “Atta girl.  You ready to call it on this date of ours?” he asked with a smile.

            “If you are.” 

            “Just don’t tell Kelly about how I didn’t even try to get you in bed.”

            “Of course not.”  They stood and walked out of the coffee shop and she knew if she wasn’t in love with someone else, she could make a go at it with this guy here.  They walked down the block towards where they had each parked. 

            Irv was still sitting on the sidewalk, strumming on his guitar and singing an old Hank Williams song.  Eric leaned down and put the extra cup down by the open case.  Irv stopped playing and looked up at Eric was a bright smile.  Eric hands him the sugar packets and the man looks like he’s about to cry.

            “That’s about worth a song,” is all Irv can say.  “What do you want to hear?”

            “Know any Waits?”

            “Some.”

            “How about ‘Picture in a Frame’?”

            “Think I can do that.”

Pam was about to walk away, to go back to her car and work on the rest of her life when something stops her.  Perhaps it’s the way the old man sings the song, so full of conviction, or the way Eric doesn’t wipe away the tear on his face, but she knows she has to reach out to him while she can.

“Hey,” she says, breaking his concentration on the music.

“Hey.”

“You like football?”

“American or real football?”

“American,” she says with a giggle.

“It’s alright, I guess.  Why?”

“The Super Bowl’s tomorrow.  I’ve been invited to a party with a bunch of work people.  Kelly will be there, and-”

“And a certain someone who happens to hold your heart?” he interrupts.

“Yeah.”

“I guess I could make an appearance.”