Page 17 of Error Handling

Cassie runs up to me with her hands outstretched. “This is wonderful!”

“No hugs!” I exclaim when Cassie’s arms become precariously close.

“Oh. Sorry.” Cassie backs off. Then, she squeals. “This is a major breakthrough, Sarah!”

“I’m not clawing my way through a bunch of girls to get to a guy. Anyway, I don’t have his number.”

Cassie’s face falls like a failed soufflé.

The metaphors are on point today. Maybe Ishouldwrite that great American novel.

“You didn’t tell me that part,” Cassie says.

“I didn’t. Oh. Well. Yeah. He was perfect. And I didn’t get his number. So.”

“Did he tell you anything that might help you find him?”

“I know his last name.”

“Did he tell you where he works?”

“He said he’s a handyman.”

Cassie scowls.

“I know. Not exactly career potential,” I say.

“No, that’s not what I meant. A handyman is a fine job. It just doesn’t give you much to go on in terms of finding him.” She anchors one arm against her stomach and rests her chin on her fist. “Wouldn’t it be nice if phone books still existed?”

“Yeah. Back in the days before Facebook, Instagram, X, TikTok, LinkedIn.”

Cassie’s eyes light up again. “Did you find him on social media?”

“I didn’t look.”

“Sarah!”

“I don’t want to seem like a stalker.”

“You can’t just let the perfect guy go. Like you said, you probably have a one in a billion chance of finding Mr. Right.”

“One in eighty million. And thanks,” I say dully.

“Well, if we’re going to find you a mate, we have to be real. And I’m going to be real with you.”

I wave my hand at Cassie. “Oh, I know. Trust me. I live with myself. I know how dire the situation is. Parts are going to start shriveling up before I even have a chance to use them.”

“Every guy has something wrong with him, you know. It’s just a matter of whether that ‘thing’ is something you’re willing to put up with.”

My phone buzzes. I grab it and look at the caller ID. “Great.” I lean back heavily in my reproduction Eames chair, my arms dangling loosely at my sides.

“Your dad?”

I nod.

“Okay. You better answer. We’re gonna talk about this later.”

Fine, boss, I mouth as I accept the call. “Hey, Dad.”