Julie realizes that she has no idea how she's supposed to do this as she stares at the pile of folders on her desk. This is harder than I thought. Kirsten was always the one that made the actual matches, and now Julie is stuck with trying to figure out who should date who, while using only personal profiles that the clients provided.
She flips aimlessly through some of the papers in one of the folder. How is she supposed to find these people their soulmates when she herself can hardly commit to one man at a time? Okay, so maybe she doesn't need to find them their soulmates, but even figuring out who Linda Briggs would have fun with on a date is hard.
Hell, running a legitimate business is hard.
She really needs Kirsten, because Kirsten knows how to read a person and look at her personality and likes and dislikes then find someone who will, as she puts it, "complement the other person." Julie has no idea how Kirsten does this, and she wishes she could call Kirsten, but she can't because she's already called her way too many times today.
Why did Kirsten have to get sick NOW? she wonders as she stares out a window while twirling a pen in her hand. She immediately reprimands herself, because it's not Kirsten's fault that she got sick, and for all Julie knows it could be serious. Actually, it would have to be serious because Julie cannot recall a time when Kirsten was ill enough to miss work.
Julie's been sitting in the New Match office for two hours, and so far all she's done is answer phone calls. She reads a few more files then orders pizza because her stomach has been complaining for past ten minutes. She eats two slices. She knows she'll have to work it off later, but that's okay with her, because she likes her yogalates class. She spins her chair lazily around a few times then changes her hairstyle a few times. She crinkles unneeded papers into balls and tries to throw them into the trash can across the room from where she sits at her desk. She sings a song she remembers from the '80s, humming the parts she doesn't know and using her empty coffee cup as a microphone. She chews gum and tries to blow bubbles, but one explodes in her face so she has to spend almost half an hour peeling as much gum as she can from her hair.
Aside from the phone calls, she gets very little work done.
She decides to leave early, so she stacks the folders and places them gently into her briefcase.
I'll work on them later.
x x x x x x x x x x
Summer pokes at the food on her plate. Seth, sitting across from her, is shoveling down his own food so fast that Summer's amazed that he doesn't choke. She takes a few bites, then uses her fork to kind of cut up her food so it'll look eaten. Seth is not fooled.
"Summer, if you're not hungry then just tell me. You don't have to sit there and pretend to eat for me."
She's not sure how exactly he managed to make this about him, but she also realizes that it's a good excuse.
So she says, "You're paying, though. I can't have you buy it for me then not eat it."
Seth stares. "Do you really think that it was that expensive? Seriously, Summer, it's the diner. Just eat what you can."
She pushes her plate away. What she really wants to do is pig out and eat a plateful of everything on the menu, but doing that would ruin all her efforts to get thin.
Not that Summer is by any means fat. She just thinks she should lose some weight. She remembers how she envied Marissa, who could eat anything but still remain stick thin. Nowadays, she envies Taylor and Kirsten, neither of whom seem to worry about dieting yet both of them are lean and perfect and beautiful. This irks Summer to no end. She wants to be like that too.
She even envies Seth sometimes. He practically inhales all his food, yet somehow remains a beanpole. She wonders if it's weird to be jealous of your boyfriend's skinniness.
Seth finishes eating, and the two leave and walk along the pier, holding hands as the sun sets. It's just like in a movie...except in a movie, the girlfriend would be played by a tall, beautiful, skinny girl, not a short, chubby one.
Suddenly, Seth leans over and kisses her. Summer kisses back, surprised, and when he pulls away she asks, "What was that for?"
"No reason."
Seth's short answer is unusual. Normally, he would give her a paragraph-long explanation or at least would complain about something. Tonight, he's not being annoyingly talkative and hasn't whined about anything. It unnerves Summer, but instead of asking him why she chooses to lean her head against his shoulder and enjoy the silence.
x x x x x x x x x x
Is it just her, or does the nurse look really sad as she tells Kirsten that the doctor will be right in? Is it just her, or does the room seem cold and gloomy?
She sits down, gripping her purse hard enough to turn her knuckles white, and waits.
The doctor comes in, and over the course of the next twenty minutes, Kirsten is told that she has stage 2 ovarian cancer, and is told her treatment options. She already knows what all the stages of the cancer are, and stage 2 means that the cancer is starting to spread.
Her mother made it to stage 4, which is when the doctors tell you, "There's nothing else we can do." Stage 4 means certain death.
She leaves the doctor's office and sits in her car and wonders how to tell her family. She looks at her cell phone and see that she has a missed call-- Julie. She doesn't call back.
That night, Kirsten finds Sandy in his study and figures that she might as well tell him now.
The boys are out with their respective girlfriends, and Sandy can help her break the news to them when they get home.
Sandy smiles when he sees her, but his smile quickly fades when he sees the look on her face. She sits across from him, as if she was one of his legal clients instead of his wife, and smooths her skirt.
"Sandy, we need to talk..." Her voice is shaky and she has to take a deep breath.
"What's wrong?" Sandy's voice is full of concern. Kirsten bites her lip, then continues.
"I'm sick, Sandy. I went to the doctor's and had some tests done and today...the test results...I have cancer." There. She's said it. Sandy looks absolutely gobsmacked, and for once he doesn't have a sarcastic reply.
"Ovarian cancer," clarifies Kirsten. "I'm starting treatment on Wednesday."
The look in Sandy's eyes is heartbreaking, so Kirsten looks away and stares at the papers scattered on his desk. Sandy gently turns her face toward him and kisses her on the forehead. She reacts automatically, standing up so that they're embracing, her head leaning on his shoulder.
He says, "I'm sorry, honey. We'll get through it together."