touched hers, she knew all of her worries were meaningless. This was the free fall after jumping out of the airplane, the feeling of floating, floating, floating through the clouds. Everett placed a hand on her cheek, so softly, and Teddy felt like she was something fragile and special, something that deserved to be looked at and displayed instead of hidden away.
Teddy pulled back suddenly and studied Everett, who looked at her in alarm. “I’ve never felt like this before,” she said simply. “Isn’t that funny? That I’m almost thirty years old and there’s still a brand-new feeling? I thought I’d felt them all already, but this is new. This feels special.” She paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No.” Everett smiled back at her, his face inches from hers. “You should have. It’s special, Teddy. You’re special.”
They kissed again, and Teddy could feel his lips smiling against hers, and she closed her eyes tight to memorize this moment. She knew she liked Everett on his show, and she liked Everett in his emails, but finding out that she liked Everett so much, this much, in person filled her with so much joy that she never wanted to forget it.
40
“You’re in a good mood,” Natalie said, looking at him suspiciously.
Everett took a bite of the eggs Benedict she’d made. About once a week, he and Natalie tried to get together for brunch. They used to go out, but Natalie had recently proclaimed she was too old and tired to wait in line for pancakes, and so now they got together at her apartment and each contributed something. Natalie always made a dish, while Everett typically got a box of donuts from the Little Donut Factory. They might not have been homemade, but in his defense, they were very good donuts.
And anyway, Natalie’s apartment was bright and airy, full of plants on the shelves and in the corners and in baskets hanging from the ceiling, so they might as well have been in some hip brunch spot.
“I hung out with Teddy this week,” he said.
“Teddy?” Natalie asked. “Fill me in. Is this Email Girl?”
Everett explained the entire story to Natalie, and her eyes grew wider as he got to each detail.
“Wait,” said Lillian, who’d walked in during the story, as she grabbed a pink sprinkled donut. “Are you telling me she’s the woman you talked to at karaoke?”
“One and the same,” Everett said with his mouth full.
“This is unbelievable,” Natalie said. “Oh, so this is why you’re so happy. You got laid.”
“Nope!” Everett said with a smile.
“No one has ever been so cheerful about not getting laid,” Natalie said. “You’re scaring me, Ev.”
“It will all happen in due time. We kissed,” Everett said. “And it was amazing. She’s amazing. She’s beautiful and she’s funny and she understands the show and—”
“Of course he brings it back to the show,” Natalie muttered to Lillian.
Lillian elbowed her. “Shush. Let the man emote. We need to encourage straight men to share their feelings; that would solve, like, ninety percent of the world’s problems.”
“See, Lillian gets it,” Everett said.
Natalie pointed at him. “This is Everett we’re talking about. His entire career is built on feelings.”
Everett took another bite. “I like her. That’s all. She’s . . .” He paused. “She’s really lovely.”
“Sounds like someone’s in looooove!” Lillian called out, grabbing a chocolate-iced donut.
“Just be careful, Ev,” Natalie said, narrowing her eyes.
Everett stopped chewing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Natalie looked at her plate. “It means I know how you are. I know you get obsessed and you run those obsessions into the ground. The way I see it, this goes one of two ways. You fall head over heels for her—”
“Which kind of looks like it’s already happening,” Lillian pointed out.
“Orrrrr you return to your safe, comfortable obsession—work—and hurt this poor girl’s feelings when you duck your head back into the sand and she has to beg you to spend time with her.”
“I’m not going to do that,” Everett said. “Do you think I do that?”
Natalie and Lillian exchanged a quick glance, but it wasn’t quick enough for Everett to miss it. “What?” he asked.
“You work a lot, Ev. You know that,” Natalie said, pushing her food around with a fork and not meeting his eye. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I work a perfectly normal amount.”
Natalie tilted her head, as if weighing whether she should keep going. “Your work tends to consume you. It’s like the rest of the world falls away and you’re on