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ATTICUS AND I WERE lunching in Chang’s Pizza Pagoda Express (the new one on campus, not to be confused with the original Chang’s Pizza Pagoda in the Pōmaika‘i Arcade). The pepperoni-and-olive topping was lukewarm, and the dough was gummy, but I was hungry enough to enjoy it.
“So what did you do this morning?” I asked.
“Oh, the usual.”
“Anything interesting going on?”
“Not really. Mm, this pizza’s not bad.”
I tried to imagine Atticus as the father of my future children but found myself staring at a tomato crumb caught in the corner of his mouth. Then again, I couldn’t really picture myself as a mother either.
“Hang on,” he said. “I’m gonna go up and get some pepper flakes. You want anything?”
“No. Thank you.”
My phone hummed in my bag. The caller ID flashed Donnie’s picture. I swiped to send the call to voicemail. Atticus took a long time at the counter, long enough for Donnie to leave a recorded message. I got curious and listened.
Hi Molly, I’m just wondering how you’re doing. Uh, the Business Boosters volunteer dinner is this weekend, and we never worked out how we were going to handle it. I still have your ticket, but I understand if you have other plans.
Donnie probably knew I’d been spending time with Atticus. Everyone in Mahina seemed to know my business. I had no idea how Sherry was managing to stay off of Donnie’s radar, but who knew how long that would last?
Anyway, if you’re busy, I understand. Please let me know so I can give it to someone else. Jennifer said she’d take the ticket if it was available.
“Jennifer” must have been Jennifer Yamazaki, sole proprietor of Yamazaki Sports Massage, one of the newest (and youngest, and prettiest) members of Business Boosters. Well, Jennifer Yamazaki wasn’t my problem, was she? I had moved on, and it was only fair to let Donnie do the same.
I didn’t want to be like Melanie, whose relationship philosophy was that you couldn’t expect any one person to fulfill all of your needs. At one point in grad school she was simultaneously dating her Pilates instructor, a married history professor, the bagboy from Whole Foods, and the captain of the softball team. (That was the same semester Melanie went around proclaiming how tired she was of people’s “drama,” which in her lexicon meant people holding her accountable for her behavior.)
I quickly texted Donnie back.
Thank you for your message. Good idea to let Jennifer have the ticket. Have fun.
Atticus returned with a silver-topped shaker jar full of pepper flakes and shook liberal quantities of it onto his pizza.
“So what’s new with IT?” I asked.
“Nothing. Same ole, same ole.”
“I got some work done on my conference paper this morning,” I said.
“Cool. Where is it again?”
“Just over in Honolulu.”
“Honolulu’s cool. Good bus system.”
Maybe I had been getting ahead of myself, thinking of Atticus as The One. Today, in the daylight, the Brewster House seemed more appealing; Atticus, less so. What would it be like to live there with him?
“This house is great!” He’d say. “Totally retro!” And then we’d hold hands silently and gaze out at the terrifying panorama with the roiling river below, as little Constance Brewster shook the foundations with her unearthly wailing.
At least I could have a conversation with Donnie. He wasn’t really into politics or current events, but he was passionate about the restaurant business. Not only was he on top of industry trends, but he could also explain exactly how oil breaks down in a fryer and how temperature fluctuates in a deep freezer. Donnie even asked me about my work now and then.
On the other hand, Pat seemed to like Atticus, and Pat had never liked anyone I’d been involved with. What did Pat see in Atticus that I didn’t?
A dead end, that’s what he saw. Pat didn’t want me to run off and get married. Pat wanted me to remain his misanthropic, celibate friend.
Atticus finished up his pizza and wiped his mouth, removing the tomato crumb. Finally.
“Molly. I have to talk to you about something.”
“You do? Okay.”
“You’re so great. I’ve loved getting to know you. You’re awesome.”
He took my hands in his.
“But I haven’t been fair to you.”
“You haven’t?”
“I’m not over her.”
This was hard for him. He looked tense, and a little sad.
“Atticus, I know what it feels like, not being over someone. Believe me, I understand.”
He squeezed my hands and released them, glowing with relief.
I would have to call Donnie back right away. I couldn’t let him go to the Business Boosters Volunteer Dinner with Jennifer Yamazaki.
“And the thing is,” Atticus continued, “I mean, in some ways you’re not anything like her, but in some ways, like the first time I walked into your office? You just reminded me of her so much.”
“She must be very beautiful, then.”
Atticus laughed at my joke, which was sweet of him.