The apartment building manager and janitor, whom Bill saw on Saturday by chance, reacted in the same way. They barely paused in their work to listen. There were a few residents in the building that Bill was familiar with, whom he thought might congratulate him and wish him well, but the ones he saw responded with polite coldness. They knew enough about him to restrain their belief when he said anything about women. “How interesting,” one of them said, much like the others. “I guess a train ride can take you places you never imagined.”
To Helen, he didn’t say a word about the momentous event that had occurred. Why would he? He avoided communication with her. He had no use for her. She found out about it, however, from Jonathan and another resident. “Bill’s at it again,” they said. “Says he found a real trophy this time.”
“I wonder what his trophy found in him,” she replied. No one could tell her that.
Normally, Bill would not share with his sister Marie any tidings about a woman until he had gone on at least one date, but this time was different. The future was certain in his mind, and he had to spread the happiness around.
Marie was smoking when he called. “You don’t want to come over here and eat again, do you?” she rasped. “There’s nothing here to eat, unless you’re going to pick up something and bring it.”
“No, I’m not coming over,” he said with a surge of joy in his voice, which immediately aroused her suspicion.
“Why not? Something wrong? Wait, don’t tell me. You found another woman.”
“I did, sis. How’d you guess?” Bill shouted in surprise. He was happy, as if he was a child again with a couple of cookies.
“I’m psychic,” she deadpanned. “And don’t call me sis. I hate it.” Bill could not say anything to persuade her that this time would turn out differently.
The lukewarm to frigid reception Bill received from his listeners over the weekend, when he related his life-changing chance meeting, made him hesitate to inform his coworkers. They could be a little insensitive, he knew. But the great, promising nature of what he had experienced made his silence impossible. He had to tell them. Although they could be mean and uncaring, they were like family. In fact, they were more than family to him, because he was single. He could not contain his excitement around them. He had to let them know on Monday morning.
At first, their reaction to what he told them was different; it was much more supportive than he had expected. At least that is how it appeared to him. Katie, of course, paid no attention to the major milestone he described. She was busy updating her friends online about her weekend, which was full of more surprises and drama, in her mind, than anything that happened to Bill or anyone else. But the others were attentive throughout his narration and asked questions and gave him advice on what restaurant to go to in Manhattan and where to visit in San Francisco. True, they were looking at each other a lot while he spoke and seemed to smile more than usual. At one point, when he told them Tanya had asked if he wore a Rolex, Debbie seemed about to explode with laughter, but a well-timed cookie, which she shoved in her mouth, defused whatever seemed to be tickling her, and her composure returned. Claire, Matt, and Debbie could be real pals when they wanted to, Bill thought to himself. He finished his story and started to work, satisfied that they saw the Friday encounter as he did, recognized the joyous change it portended in his life, and wished him success.
Doubts about their support soon crept into his mind, however. All three quickly left to go to the bathroom, or so they said, and they were there for an unusually long time. They were still absent when Bill went to the lobby on their floor to make a business call. As he sat down in the lobby, an elevator cab opened. He immediately looked that way, because sounds burst out of it of people laughing so hard they were near tears. There inside, he saw Claire, Debbie, and Matt, sprawling against the sides of the cab and falling on each other, like epileptics in the midst of seizures, their eyes closed, unable to support themselves. He heard Debbie say, “I can’t go back. I can’t.