Chapter 1

Loren sat at his computer reviewing an economic forecast. Two hands grasped his shoulders from behind and he jumped. "Loren -- going down to Farley's?"

"Todd -- you startled me. I was going to pass."

"Come on ... You know this is Dwight's last day. It'll be our last chance to say good bye."

"I suppose."

"You used to duck these off-sites by saying Ginger wanted you home for dinner. You can't use that excuse any more."

"Rub it in. All right..." He logged off his computer and picked up his briefcase.

"Leave that, buddy," Todd said. "Come back for it afterward."

Loren walked to the elevator and rode it with Todd to the ground floor. They stepped onto the sidewalk and headed down the block to Farley's.

Inside he saw that tables had been placed end-to-end. He found a seat on the end closest to the door and Todd took the seat beside him.

A server approached them. "What'll you folks have?" she asked.

"Go ahead," Todd prompted. "Freddie will pick up the tab."

"Why don't you bring a pitcher of draft and some glasses?" Loren asked.

"I'll have a vodka collins," Todd added. "Bring a plate of nachos."

"Coming up."

"Looks like we're the first ones here," Loren remarked. "That makes me feel a bit uncomfortable."

"Someone has to be the first. Here comes Erin."

Their server set down the pitcher, glasses and Todd's drink. A slender young woman with short, auburn hair sat beside Todd. She took a glass and filled it from the pitcher. "Hi, Todd."

"Hi, Erin."

She looked toward Loren. "Hi, Loren. I'm surprised to see you here."

"Part of the new world order I guess," Loren replied.

"I'm sorry to hear about you and Ginger," Erin added.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Another young man entered the bar and sat across from Todd. "Hey, Dwight," Todd said. "Sorry to see you go, man."

Dwight shrugged. "I'm sorry to be leaving ... hell, I'm happy to be leaving. I'll miss all you, though -- you're a great bunch. Hey Loren -- sorry to hear about you and Ginger."

"Yeah -- for the best I guess..."

A slightly built man in middle age sat at the head of the table. He had a thin face, pointed nose and a pencil moustache. He looked around and acknowledged them turn. "Erin ... Todd, Loren, Dwight. Where's everybody else?"

"So engrossed in their work," Dwight remarked, helping himself to some beer, "they lose track of time."

More of Loren's coworkers filtered into Farley's. The server brought more pitchers, nachos, a smattering of mixed drinks and a couple of sodas. Loren was engaged in a discussion with Dwight when he felt a jab in his ribs.

He turned to Todd. "What?"

Todd nodded toward another part of the bar. "Bogey at three o'clock."

Loren looked in that direction. Standing at a tall table were two young women. One was tall and slender, with a Mediterranean complexion and coarse, dark brown hair that fell halfway down her back. The other was stocky and full-figured with pale skin and shoulder-length, blonde hair.

"You be my wingman," Todd said.

"Your wingman?"

"Yeah -- you go chat up the fugly one while I go for the brunette."

"Do you mean the blonde? I don't think she's bad looking."

"She needs to go to the gym and lose five or thirty pounds."

"No -- I think she's just large-framed. She doesn't have a big spare tire -- like some you see."

"She has the start of one."

"So do I for that matter," Loren replied.

Todd nodded toward the two women. "Come on, Loren -- before someone else swoops in."

"Todd -- I'm pretty awkward at this sort of thing. Can't you find another wingman?"

"You're the only guy here who's single. Let's go, Loren." Loren looked up at Todd. "I'll return the favor someday."

"I'm sure you will."

"Dude -- I know you're hurting now but the day will come when you're ready to start dating real, live women ... and then I'll be your wingman."

Loren hoisted himself from his chair and walked with Todd toward the two women. "Hi," Todd said, "I'm Todd and this is my pal Loren. We'd like to buy you lovely ladies a round."

The brunette lifted her eyebrows. "Why, thank you."

"What are you having?" Todd asked.

"Chablis," the brunette replied.

Todd caught the eye of a server. "Four Chablis," he ordered. He turned to the brunette. "Chablis is a sipping wine. I see that table is opening up." He gestured toward a two-top. "Maybe we could do our sipping over there."

Loren watched as they headed toward the table. He stood across from the blond girl. "So," she said. "You must be the wingman."

Loren chortled. "I guess I am."

"What, do you and he trade off assignments?"

"No -- I'm pretty green at this, actually. Todd has his own circle of friends and stomping grounds." Loren gestured toward the long table across the room. "I wouldn't be here at all, except that it's one of my coworker's last day and our boss called an extracurricular going-away party slash team-building exercise."

The server set four glasses of wine on the table, along with the check. Loren caught Todd's eye and he approached them. Todd mouthed the word, "Wow!" and carried off two of the glasses.

Loren picked up one and handed the other to his tablemate. "Cheers," he said.

"Cheers." She sipped from hers. The server set a bowl of pretzels on the table. She reached into her bag and retrieved a pack of cigarettes, then slipped it back inside. "I keep forgetting I can't do that in here anymore."

"I for one am happy you can't do that anymore," Loren replied.

"Are you a militant non-smoker?"

He shook his head. "I don't care if someone smokes. You're free to ingest whatever you want, in my opinion. My problem is I'm allergic to it. It gives me asthma. Before they banned smoking the only way I could come in a place like this would be if I took a couple Benadryl first. Of course, with a couple of Benadryl in me I couldn't do any drinking so why come in at all?"

"I am trying to quit," she said. "It's getting harder and harder to find a place to smoke these days. Do you remember this past February when it was so cold? I had to go outside for a cigarette. They say smoking is dangerous to your health. They're right -- you could freeze to death out there. Plus, it's getting to be so expensive."

"What have you done to try to quit?" he asked.

"I tried going cold turkey, but that lasted about three days. Now, I'm trying to taper off ... but it's hard. At one point I was going through a pack a day. I'm down to two packs a week. I can't seem to drop below that."

"Which is six cigarettes a day," he remarked.

"Yes -- I guess it is. I'm about ready to go to a doctor and get a prescription."

"My father successfully quit smoking by tapering off. His trick was to pick a brand he hated."

"That's an idea," she replied. "I should switch to a menthol brand. I really don't like menthol."

"Be careful -- some menthol brands have more nicotine than the regular ones."

"You seem to know a lot about cigarettes for someone who's allergic to them."

"I'm a business analyst," Loren replied. "I cover the medical and consumer sectors. The FDA is considering banning menthol cigarettes. I had to do an impact analysis for our traders. If you're planning on going to menthol, then you'd better stock up soon."

"I'll give it a try." She sipped more of her wine. "So, other than the bars, where do nice single guys go?"

"Beats me," Loren replied. "It's not an orbit in which I travel."

"I'm sorry -- are you attached? When I see a gunner and a wingman in formation I figure both are single."

He drew in a breath and let it out as a sigh. "I wasn't single... 'til recently."

"Just broke up?"

"She moved out a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear it."

"We were together ten years," he said, "including our years in college. I think we were over each other for the past two or three years. We even tried couples therapy."

"Did that help?"

"It helped us separate. Our therapist peeled back the layers so we were exposing our unvarnished selves to each other ... saying what we meant ... The end result was we didn't care much for what we saw and heard. I'm not sure how we ended up growing apart the way we did ... but we certainly did." He sipped his wine. "He fixated on how you say you love someone. My pet phrase was, I love you to pieces. What does that mean?"

"I don't think anyone ever told me that," she replied.

"It didn't make sense to him and I guess it doesn't make sense at all. If you love somebody why would you want to ... disintegrate her? He wanted each of us to look the other in the eye and simply say, 'I love you.' Neither of us could do it. I guess that drove home the fact we had been living with someone we didn't really love." Loren sipped some more wine.

"How are you coping?" she asked.

"Not real well."

"I mean -- what are you doing to cope?"

"Losing myself in my routine ... the sun comes up, I go to work, I come home. The sun goes down. Repeat. Weekends are the toughest. I'm still recovering from the finality of it. Of course, Ginger's moving out didn't stop the earth from spinning on its axis, so in the bigger picture I guess it's not really that important."

"But, it was important to you," she remarked.

"I hadn't realized what a tidy arrangement we had worked out. We had separation of duties. I cooked the meals and washed the dishes. Chief cook and bottle washer -- that's me. Ginger did the laundry, made the beds and ran the vacuum. She planted the bulbs while I mowed the lawn." He sipped some more wine. "You wouldn't believe the pile of laundry that's accumulated since she left. The dishes are clean and I haven't starved. The lawn's mowed ... or will be, once it gets warm enough to start growing again ... but there is a backlog of bulbs to plant."

She laughed. "You plant bulbs in the fall, not in the spring."

"Shows how much I know about planting bulbs."

"You have a lawn to mow?" she asked. "You're in a house, not an apartment?"

"Yeah ... It's my grandparents' house. When they died they left it to my folks -- on the condition it stay in the family. It used to be way out in the country. Now it's in the middle of a subdivision up on the North side -- urban sprawl crept up to it and engulfed it."

She smiled. "Like an amoeba?"

"Yeah -- like that. I'm paying the carrying costs and my folks are letting me live in it. At some point it'll devolve to me, I guess -- and I'll still be paying the carrying costs -- which amount to real estate taxes and utilities, so it's a good deal."

"Is it a big place?" she asked.

"Oh, no. It was just the right size for my grandparents. It was just the right size for Ginger and me. Now, it's more than I need." Loren drained his glass. He glanced toward the long table. "Looks like my group is breaking up." He held up his empty glass. "Another?"

"I'm good," she said. "In fact I think I'd better be heading home." She looked up at the table where her friend had gone with Todd. "I wonder where Tammy went?"

"With Todd? I'll bet she gets picked up all the time."

"I'll bet she does, too."

"You two weren't here, cruising?" he asked.

"No -- We had a rough day and came here to unwind. I'm pretty much of a homebody myself."

"Are you attached?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No -- and for longer than a couple of weeks."

Loren picked up the check. "This was Todd's idea and I get stuck with the tab."

She opened her bag. "How much is it? We can go halves."

"Twenty-four plus tip and tax. It's okay -- I'll take care of it."

Out of her purse she produced a ten and a five. "I insist."

"In that case..." Loren produced a twenty from his wallet and pocketed the five. He left the bills on the table. "Where are you parked?"

"About a block west of Oakwood on Maple."

"That's in the university section," he remarked, "quite a walk."

"I ride the bus," she replied. "It saves me gas and wear and tear on my car."

"I'd be happy to give you a ride. I'm parked in the Westmar garage."

"I'll accept." They headed to the sidewalk. She opened her purse, took out her cigarettes and lit one.

"What made your day so rough?" he asked, fanning her smoke from his face.

"Oh, how inconsiderate of me," she said and stubbed out the cigarette on the side of a building. She slipped it back into the pack. "I'll save it for later. I'm a paralegal and we had a big case to prepare for. Tammy's our receptionist..."