Page 25 of Error Handling

“Well, she’s only asked me to date a stranger once. But a friend of hers is a friend of mine. I trust her judgment.” I didn’t trust it half an hour ago, but now I think Cassie might have a gift.

Christopher smiles again, which causes warmth to flood my body. It isn’t the persistent gnawing/fluttering I feel around Chris, but it issomething, and that alone is a minor miracle.

Did Chris Butcher awaken something in me? Or am I miraculously turning into a woman with proper hormonal responses? I’ll have to analyze it to death later. For now, I’d rather enjoy the view.

“So, what happened last Saturday?” Christopher asks between bites of his Reuben sandwich. I hope the sauerkraut doesn’t give him bad breath.

I explain everything—that I was running late, had trouble finding parking, had a date with the wrong Chris. I leave out the part about Earl the Squirrel’s awakening.

Christopher’s slight crow’s feet deepen as I speak, and when I finish, he lets out a full-bellied laugh. “That’s a story for the grandchildren.”

“Indeed. Who goes on the wrong date?”

“You, apparently.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” I ask.

“Why didn’t you text me?” Christopher says mischievously.

“Honestly?”

“Sure. I like honesty.” He finishes his sandwich and pushes his napkin out of the way.

“I’m antisocial.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“Yeah,” I continue. “I was tired on Saturday, and I guess I just wanted to curl up in my pajamas. Plus, I felt like an idiot for sitting on a bench talking to a stranger about going to a wedding on the Seafarer.”

Christopher covers his mouth with his hand.

“What?”

He squints and falls back against the booth, his hands following his body. They land on his stomach and rest there while his stomach bounces with laughter.

“Are you laughing at me?” I can’t help but smile along with him.

“I’m laughing at both of us. I sat there for nearly an hour talking to a woman named Sarah who works for Charleston County Parks and Recreation.” Both sides of his mouth smile together. No half-smiles.

“At least you knew you had the wrong Sarah,” I say.

“I knew she was the wrong Sarah ‘cause she towered over me like an ostrich.”

“Oh...that’s bad.”

Christopher’s laughter calms down a bit. “What’s bad? Me with a tall woman? I’ve dated a few. They find me mysterious.”

“Mysterious how?”

“Logistically.”

“I don’t even want to know what that means.”

“No, you really don’t.” Another laugh erupts from his mouth.

“I meant it’s bad that you compared her to an ostrich.”

“It was the tallest bird I could think of.”