Heck, I’ve even endured two semesters of music theory at Juilliard, which, when I think about it, was almost as bad as the war had been.

But never in my life have I felt more need for courage I knew I didn’t actually have than I did at that particular moment. I held my breath as Rob said the words I so didn’t want to hear:

“Jess. I’m getting married.”

Except that’s not what came out of his mouth. What came out of his mouth instead were the words:

“Jess. I need you to find my sister.”

Four

“You need me to WHAT?”

He lowered his gaze. Apparently, it was too much for him to look me in the eye. Instead, he stared at his beer bottle.

“My sister,” he repeated. “She’s missing. I need you to help me find her. You know I wouldn’t ask you, Jess, if I wasn’t really worried about her. Doug’s told me you don’t…well…dothat anymore. He told me the war—well, that it really messed you up. And I totally understand that, Jess. I do.”

He looked up then and hit me with the full force of those baby blues.

“But if there’s any way…anyway at all. If you could just give me ahint about where she is…I’d really appreciate it. And I swear afterwards I’ll go away and leave you alone.”

I stared at him.

I should have known, of course. That it wasn’t ME he wanted. Not, you know, that I’d ever once entertained the idea, since opening my door to find him standing there, that that’s what he’d come for. To try to get back together, I mean.

And I will admit, it was a big relief that he wasn’t here to tell me about his impending nuptials with Karen Sue Hankey, or whoever. Not that I cared what he did anymore, or who he married.