Sweeter Than Fiction

Chapter Four

Don

When Abby goes suddenly quiet, I take a break from glancing at my mail to turn my gaze to her face. Even though she tries to avoid my eyes, I can tell something is wrong.

“Abby?” I ask, trying to get her attention. “Abby, look at me.”

When she finally turns her head, I can see her watery eyes, her red nose, and her tear-stained cheeks.

“Fuck, Abby. I’m so sorry. What did I say?”

I was just trying to be nice. Abby is always cute, but she almost goes out of her way not to be noticed. Tonight, she was all dressed up like she had somewhere to be. Maybe it was wrong of me to assume that it was a date.

“You didn’t say anything. Men are just pigs. Well, not you, but most men. And…and…and” She sniffles between each word. “I’m going to die a spinster who will be eaten by her cats.”

“What?” is all I manage to get out.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“You’re fine,” I assure her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“Sure, I do.”

“No, you really don’t,” she insists before adding, “I appreciate you being so nice but really, I’m okay. I’m just a little rattled. I just need to get home and relax. I’m fine.”

With that, she walks away. And I stand frozen for a moment, completely in shock of what just happened.

When I finally come back to reality, I head upstairs. Once inside my apartment, I try to watch a little TV to clear my mind. But it’s no use. Abby continues to plague my thoughts.

I don’t know much about my neighbor, but she’s always been friendly to me—unlike a lot of others in the Big Apple. Being from the Midwest and coming here was like night and day. Most I meet are cold and distant.

Something about Abby was warm, though. She’s quirky, and somehow reminds me of home. I’d like to get to know her better, but she seems to be an introvert, and I don’t want to push.

The TV is doing nothing to calm me down, so I stand up and start pacing. It’s always been my nervous habit.

I have no clue what she was talking about, but I’d like to try to find out. Maybe it was growing up in the Midwest, or maybe it was growing up with just my mom and sister, but when I see a woman upset, I want to help.

And not in a “knight in shining armor who swoops in and saves the day” kind of way.

One thing I learned from my mom and sister is that usually, women want someone who just listens and is understanding rather than trying to fix things.

Another thing I learned is that rarely when a woman says that she’s fine is she actually fine.

Okay.

Time to go try to undo some damage.

With a bottle of wine in hand, I knock on Abby’s door and wait for a response. It takes a minute, but she finally opens it.

Her black dress has been replaced with some pajamas and a fluffy robe. Her face is still red and puffy, but now her tearful eyes are behind her glasses once again. Her hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head.

Sheer surprise covers her features. “You’re not my Chinese food.”

“Uh, no, I’m not.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Look, I know you said that I wouldn’t care about what happened tonight or what’s going on with you. And maybe I won’t understand, but I’m a hell of a good listener. Or if you don’t want to talk, I can maybe just try to cheer you up.”

She just keeps staring at me, trying to process everything I’m saying.

Holding up the wine, I add, “And I brought reinforcements.”

It just now occurs to me that I have no idea if she likes wine—or if she even drinks at all.

Maybe the wine was a bad idea.

She looks me up and down a couple more times.

“Okay, look, I’m a bit of a mess right now. I can’t promise that it’s going to get any better any time soon. But I am running low on wine.”

A wide smile crosses my lips. “Great.”

“But I have to warn you—I’m not changing my clothes, so you’re stuck with all this.” She gestures to herself. “And I’m pretty busy having an existential crisis, so you just need to jump on board.”

“Okay, deal.”

“One more question before I let you in.”

“Anything. Go for it.”

“How do you feel about Gilmore Girls?”