"I'm allergic to fabric softener, I majored in comparative literature at Brown, I hate anchovies, and I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met."-- The Wedding Date
They had had a friendship for over two decades. They had been best friends for a good fifteen years. They were supposed to know each other, yet at times, Stella felt that he was distant from her, like she didn't know anything about him. Sure she did know his favorite coffee; she knew that his favorite colour was blue. But those were trivial, unimportant facts. She wanted to know what made him cry, what made him laugh, what his childhood pet's name was, if his parent's were alive, why he moved from Chicago in favor for New York. Those were the things a friend of twenty years and best friend of fifteen would know, and would be told without needing to ask.
She wanted know who was the woman who made him smile.
Throughout their friendship she had always been jealous of the women he'd dated. She had been jealous of his wife, whom she, despite knowing better, couldn't help but love.
He was her enigma : A book open for everyone to read but for no-one to understand.
She had confronted him, accusing him of not appreciating their friendship but he had only given her sad puppy dog eyes and said: "I'm not a very sharing person"
That had made her laugh and the puppy dog eyes were so out of his character, it scared her from asking again.
That had been ten years ago, his wife was still alive and he was allowed to make a joke, to smile and to be easy going. For a few years after his wife's death he had withdrawn from her even further, for a while she even suspected he had changed his coffee preference so she wouldn't even know that.
But now it was back to a double espresso or if he felt adventurous: an Americano. He felt he had the right to make a joke with her, and everyone, once in a while and to be light hearted.
It warmed her to the core, so she decided to once again 'accuse' him of never sharing anything personal with her.
This time he smiled at her and said:
"I'm allergic to fabric softener, I majored in comparative literature at Brown, I hate anchovies, and I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met."
Slightly shocked Stella looked at him:
"You didn't study at Brown, I know THAT for a fact since we studied together" she wrinkled her eyebrows "nor did you major in comparative literature, when it comes to that"
"You're right" he wiggled his eyebrows and left her standing there.
Later that evening after once again pulling overtime, Stella found a list on her desk.
Name: Mac Alistair Taylor
Childhood pet's name: A cat named Mr. Mistoffelees (he was black and white)
I laugh every time I see Monty Python's 'Life of Brian' and I cry with the victims of meaningless crimes.
My mother's name was Holly Taylor and she was an English immigrant, she died when I was ten, but my father is still alive though he became estranged from me when I joined the Marines. His name is Joseph.
I moved to New York from Chicago because there was nothing left there for me. I thought about moving back there for awhile after Claire died but realized that there is something to keep me here.
And there is no girlfriend… there was for awhile, but for now...
There's only you.