Pam smoothes the paper out in front of her as our waitress stops to re-fill our coffee.  I smile as a thank-you and take a sip, watching as Pam’s eyes peruse over the dozens of listings.

“Okay, how about this:  1 bathroom, courtyard, access to fitness center, laundry facilities, putting green.”

She looks up to gauge my reaction.

“When have you ever seen me pick up a golf club?  Besides, how many bedrooms does it have?”

She glances down to check and frowns.

“Umm, it doesn’t.  It’s a studio.”

“Okay, thank you, moving on.”  I motion forward with my hand and she diligently goes back to the search.  It’s endearing how much she cares about this and just shows that she’s the bigger person in all of this; if it were the other way around, I’d be a poor sap with my arms around her knees begging her not to leave.  Actually, that’s probably what I’d do if I were going to be around for the wedding.  My mind wanders to the plane ticket sitting on my coffee table, unopened and the undefeated champion in the staring contests I’ve been having with it everyday since it arrived.  

I am such a coward.

“Alright, wait, here we go,” Pam says excitedly and I realize I’ve had a fork full of French toast mid-air while I was deep in thought.  I take a bite and listen for the details.

“1 bedroom, 1 bath, located near downtown Stamford with all the common amenities.  $1500 a month.”

I choke on my breakfast.  “I’m sorry, what?”

“What?”  she asks bemusedly.

“That’s…a lot for only one bedroom.  I couldn’t even have a roommate.”  Responsibility and obligation start clouding my head to the point where it hurts to think.  For so long I’ve lived the life of a kid in 26 year old’s body:  A cool house, living with one of my best friends, a job that often feels more like daycare that it does an actual job.  It occurs to me that this is really the biggest step I’ve taken since college.  And it’s terrifying.

“Well,” Pam begins, her tone soft and comforting.  “This is a promotion, right?  You’ll be making more than you are now.  You can cut costs and still live comfortably.”

I frown and run a hand through my hair.  She catches it as it comes down, causing me to look at her with subtle alarm.

“Hey,” she smiles.  “It’s going to be okay.  It’ll be…good for you,” she manages to get out and I can tell she’s not just trying to convince me.

“Yeah…yeah you’re right.”  I give her hand a squeeze and let it return to her coffee mug.

“We’ll finish up here and go take—oh, sorry.”  The sound of her cell phone rings through her purse and she scrambles to find it.  I have my suspicions of who it is and the look on her face confirms it.  She gives me an apologetic smile as she answers.

“Hey babe,” she starts and that’s all it takes to get me to move from our booth.

“I’ll go pay,” I mouth to her and she nods, obviously distracted.  I can make out her side of the conversation as I head towards the cashier.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine.  Did you get my note?  Yeah, I’m just doing errands all day, might go visit Mom.  I’ll be back kind of late.”

It’s not like I was expecting her to tell the truth; what good would that do?  No sense of turning this adventure into a fugitive situation.  It’s just unsettling to have that reminder that what we’re doing here is by no means innocent.  There’s no way to make this look good to anyone: An engaged woman miles from home with a guy who admitted to having a crush on her at one time.  At least that’s all he admits; the real time line is a bit frightening and let’s not even talk about the “L” word.

“$18.50,” the cashier says.  I break my train of thought and silently had him a $20.  

“Did you enjoy everything today, sir?” he asks.

“Wh—what?”  I stammer, confused and disoriented as I continue to try and eavesdrop.

“Your meal.  How was everything?”

“Oh, fine…it was fine.  Thanks.”  He hands the change back to me and I take my time walking back to the booth only a few feet away.  She’s still on the phone when I come back but is trying to wrap things up.

“Yeah, I can pick that up on my way home, sure.  What?  Sure, you should do that, you have the day free so…” she trails off, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously.  Her guilt is going to let him get away with a lot today, and she knows it.  It’s heartbreaking to watch so I focus on the change in my hands and try to calculate the tip.

“Okay, have fun.  I love you, bye.”  She flips her phone closed and forces a smile up at me.

“Sorry about that.”

I wave my hand and shake my head.  “Don’t worry about it.  Is everything, uh, okay?”

She nods quickly.  

“Yeah, he’s just checking on me, so…we ready?” She stands and slings her purse on her shoulder.

“After you,” I say, motioning for her to walk first.  She hurries out the diner door and I notice that I’ve rarely seen her walk with her head held up.  
 
The drive to the apartment is surprisingly short, and we’re greeted by an enthusiastic landlord smoking a cigarette in front of the main office.

“Morning,” she says, digging the butt of her cigarette with her heel into the ground.  “You folks sure got here early.”

“We wanted to get a head start.  I’m Pam and this is Jim,” she says brightly and I’m slightly taken aback at all this confidence she’s bestowing on to a perfect stranger.  It took her a lot longer than that to get to that point with me.  

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Lisa.  How about I show you around?”  She doesn’t wait for a response and starts to clack away down the main path and into the heart of the complex.  It’s a nice enough place; spacious, safe, not painted a terribly ugly color.  I note to Pam that it has plenty of trees and she shoots me a look that says “Be nice in front of your potential new landlord.”

We climb up a set of stairs and with a few jiggles of the key, Lisa swings the door open to reveal a bare apartment.  There’s nothing special about it, nothing to draw me in and say “Yes, this is my new home.”  But then again, I can’t find anything really wrong with it either, so when Pam looks at me to silently ask what I think of it, I respond with an approving nod.

Lisa rambles on about the details of the place and I don’t bother to listen to closely, and instead make my way down the short hallway to check out the one bedroom and bath.  It’s a small space and voices carry, which allows me to accidentally overhear a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear.

“So, is this your first place together?”  Lisa asks casually.

“Oh, umm…” Pam begins to stammer and I prepare myself for the reiteration of what I already know to be the sad truth.

“Yeah, actually.  It’s uh—it’s pretty exciting.”

What the—

“Congratulations.  I know this may be a ways off, but the complex also has multiple bedroom units, in case someone else comes along.”  Her tone is so suggestive it’s hard not to know to what she’s referring.  I’m reeling not just from her presumptuous attitude but from Pam.  What is she doing? Playing house when she thinks I’m not listening?

I decide it’s gone far enough and poke my head out from the hallway.

“Alright, thanks for showing us around Lisa, can I have your card?”

She pulls one seamlessly from the tiny pocket on her blazer and hands it over, positively beaming.

“Great.  Come on, honey,” I say with subtle sarcasm as I take Pam’s hand.  “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

We make a hasty exit and I practically fly down the stairs, Pam’s voice trailing behind me.

“Jim!  What was that?”

“I feel like I should ask you the same thing.  What are you doing, Pam?  Telling realtors that we’re together?  Does that make this more fun for you?”

“You tell me, you’re the one who told the policeman I was your girlfriend.”

Uh oh.

“You—I thought you were asleep,” I mumble, nudging the loose gravel of the parking lot.

“I was, sort of.  I was awake enough to hear that part.”  She crosses her arms and waits for an explanation.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just figured that was an easier answer than ‘she’s actually just my best friend that I kidnapped for a day who is helping me look for houses since I’m transferring from my old job.’”  This gets a laugh out of her and the tension on my heart eases a bit.

“It’s complicated, isn’t it?”  she asks and I can hear the apology in between her words.

“Yeah, that’s my fault.  Sorry about that,”  I crook the corner of my mouth up, hoping it’s enough to ease things over.  She just gives a small nod and I breathe easier; another awkward moment we can put to rest.

“So, the hunt continues?”  she asks, moving toward the car.

“I guess so.  Can’t settle on the first one I see, right?”  I swallow the double meaning behind the sentence and climb into the driver’s seat.  

“Right,” she answers determinedly, flipping the newspaper open once more to find our next destination.  

Like I said, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.

8:59