So the big news of the summer is, Matthew gets married on a business trip to South Dakota.
"South Dakota?" Chris says, incredulous. "That is the least sexy state. Like, in the entire country. South Carolina, now that's a place to get impulsively married."
"Shut up," Matt whines. He's on speakerphone, so it sounds even shriller than usual.
"Even South Virginia would be better," Chris says.
"That's not a state," Jess says, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye.
"What? No way, you're kidding," Chris says, then pauses. "Oh right, no, it's West Virginia. Shit, Matt, you've got me all flustered!"
"Fuck off," Matthew says. "Wait, is Willa in the room?"
Willa very helpfully leans over from her spot in Chris' lap to shriek directly into the speaker of the phone.
"Hey Willa," Matt replies politely, after she's done. He sounds a little strained. "Sorry about the cursing, honey."
"God, you're such a suck up bitch," Chris says. Willa laughs and claps her hands. "Willa's agreeing with me right now by the way."
"Don't call me a bitch in front of the baby, Chris!"
"Okay, the baby definitely thinks you're a bitch too," Chris says, and bounces his knee so Willa will laugh. "See?"
"Oh my God," Jess says, resisting the urge to slam his face against something hard. "You're both bitches, and if anything is offending my kid it's all this fucking foreplay. Should I leave you alone?"
"No," Chris says, still bouncing, and Willa shrieks with laughter, fisting her hands in his shirt. "Matt, you're making Jess uncomfortable. You see what happens when you get drunk at Holiday Inns? You've wrought folly in Sioux Falls, Matthew."
"Chris is not folly," Matthew says, and Chris stops bouncing, blinking in confusion at the phone. "And I didn't meet her at a Holiday Inn, fuck you."
"Holy shit," Jess says, sitting up straight, "holy shit, Matt, did you marry a girl named Chris?"
Matthew sighs loudly, and Jess bursts out laughing.
"You freak!" Chris exclaims. Willa, excited beyond belief by the chaos, is almost out of breath from her delighted laughter. Jess isn't too far behind her. "You - are you stalking me?"
"No," Matt says, long suffering. "It's a coincidence, Chris. Christopher! There's a lot of Chrises in the world, okay?!"
Jess leans his forehead against the arm of his chair and desperately gasps for breath.
"Her name is Christine, but she goes by Chris, and she's coming back with me because she's starting a new job in New York, and don't even start, okay, because she had that lined up before I even met her. She's very nice and very smart and she listens to Tom Waits and she's blonde, you guys. She's a fucking Mets fan, okay, do not fuck this up for me."
"Okay, what the fuck, hold on, slow down," Chris says, "you met a hot blonde with my name who just happens to be moving to the East Coast, in fucking Sioux Falls."
Jess rubs his face and sits back up, having brought himself mildly under control. "And she's got the same shitty taste as you, on top of all that?"
"Oh, don't fuckin lie, I know you like Tom Waits," Chris says, rolling his eyes.
"You can see why I was willing to overlook the name," Matt says. "Her sister took a bunch of pictures of the wedding, I'll email them to you guys."
"What the fuck," Chris says forlornly. Willa laughs again, bouncing herself on his knee. "This is going to be so fucking confusing. We're gonna have to use last name initials. Like we're in middle school."
"I thought we could just say, like, Girl Chris and Boy Chris."
"Oh, great, that's just super," Chris says. Willa yells, presumably in agreement. "Yeah, I know! Did you hear that, Matt?"
"You're gonna love her, Willa," Matthew says excitedly. "She's a museum docent!"
"Jesus, you're a lunatic," Chris says wonderingly.
"Why'd you get married, dumbass?" Jess asks. "Is dating too boring for you? Wait, she...is an American citizen, right?"
"Yes," Matt says. "Jesus, it's nothing shady, it just - seemed like the thing to do. She didn't have a place to live out here yet, and the commute's notthat bad."
Even Willa lets out a dismissive yell at that, and Jess snorts, burying his face in his arm.
"What kind of museum docent?" Chris demands. "She's not a goddamn artist, is she? Matt I swear to God if you married a goddamn modern artist I'm gonna kill you."
"No, she's a science person," Matthew says archly. "The job is at that science museum in Queens. She's like a junior docent or something, she's gonna be like, helping with the kid stuff, I think."
"New York Hall of Science," Jess supplies.
"Lunatic," Chris says, shaking his head. "Does she read? Has she read any of our books? Did you sell her any of our books?"
"She read Jess' book," Matt says, and Jess looks up at that, surprised. "That's how we met, sort of. She was at the conference; her sister works for Meredith. She saw my name tag and came over to ask about him."
Chris looks over at Jess, one eyebrow significantly higher than the other. Jess frowns at him. "What'd you say?"
"That his next novel's gonna be even better," Matthew says. "Then I asked for her number, which worked, obviously. So, you know. Thanks, Jess."
"Jesus," Jess says, and buries his face in his arm again.
"You married a chick with my name, who is also one of Jess' fans?" Chris asks incredulously.
"No, actually, she hated his book, turns out," Matthew says nonchalantly. Jess looks over at the phone in disbelief. "She, uh. She likes Mari's stuff, though. She bought one of the collections."
There's a long, dead silence. Not even Willa makes a sound.
"Great," Jess says. "Can't wait to meet her."
"She's nice!" Matt protests.
"There is no way in hell we are reimbursing you for that fucking hotel room," Chris says.
"You know," Jess says later, trying to do paperwork with a sleepy Willa dozing on his chest, "Rory's dad's name is Chris."
"Don't try to comfort me right now," Chris says.
"I'm serious. Christopher, uh," Jess says, "I can't remember his last name. Started with an 'H,' I think."
Chris looks up from his laptop with weary, deadened eyes. "You're kidding."
"I knew a Chris in high school, too," Jess continues. "In Brooklyn, I mean, not Stars Hollow. He sold my neighbor meth."
"Come on, man," Chris says.
"When I was in California, I met a girl at a bar named Kristy. She blew me in the alleyway."
"You're a horrible person," Chris says.
"I was thinking of naming my protagonist for the next book Christian," Jess says. "I think the symbolism would be pretty meaningful."
"Do it and I'll sell it to Harper Collins, jackass."
"Feel free, shithead, I could use the money."
Chris grumbles angrily, pointedly turning back to his laptop.
Jess gives him a full thirty seconds, out of the kindness of heart. "Your middle name is Michael, right? My mom dated somebody named Mike for two years. He was a big Powerpuff Girls fan."
"Okay," Chris says, and rises to storm out, "enjoy hell! Hope you like it!"
"My twelfth grade chemistry teacher was named Mrs. Michaela Michaels," Jess calls after him. "Everyone called her Mike Cubed!"
Chris makes a wordless sound of rage that echoes through the bookstacks, and Jess laughs in satisfaction. Willa stirs briefly, and then snuggles a little closer beneath Jess' chin.
"Boy Chris is in a bad mood," Jess whispers. Willa sighs in her sleep, and doesn't reply.
Girl Chris does turn out to be blonde, and hot, and also, Canadian, which is not so coincidentally why she is familiar with Jess' ex. On a literary level, anyway.
"I have dual citizenship," she explains, wandering around the shop as she talks. Boy Chris is watching her warily, not unlike the way he usually watches that kid who always tries to shoplift the novelty bookmarks from behind the register. "My dad was born in Vancouver. Hey, is this Yulissa Bedina? You publish her too?"
"Please don't touch the merchandise," Boy Chris says loftily, which Girl Chris rightfully ignores.
"I love her," Girl Chris says, flipping through the book.
"You can keep that one, it doesn't officially come out until the end of the month," Jess offers, and glares when Boy Chris lobs a pen at his head. "What? Matt told us to be nice."
"I'll pay for it," Girl Chris says, smirking at her male counterpart, who is now glaring at Jess instead of her. "Support the artist, and all that. Especially poets; I hear they're sort of worse off."
"It's fifteen dollars," Jess warns her.
"Jesus fuck!" Girl Chris exclaims, and puts the slim volume back on top of the pile. "Never mind, she's not that good."
Jess likes her.
"She looks a little like you," Jess tells Boy Chris, who is still watching her move warily around the shop, now accompanied by a dopey-looking Matthew. "You know, if you were a white girl."
"Shut the fuck up," Boy Chris says. "She looks like the fucking love child of Madonna and Charlize Theron. Every time she smiles at him I can see his dick get hard. See?" He points. "It just happened again."
"You're not in love with him or anything, are you?" Jess asks, semi-seriously. "I was only joking about the flirting thing, but - "
"What, no," Boy Chris says, and grimaces. Jess studies him carefully, and decides that it's genuine. "Me and Matt? Gross."
"I'm just asking."
"I don't like change," Boy Chris says, sulkily. "You know this about me."
Jess chooses to let that one be. "You've known Matt since fifth grade, dude, and this isn't exactly the first time he's done something ridiculous."
"I'm worried," Boy Chris admits, after a weird moment of silence. "I'm - I'm just worried."
"Yeah," Jess says, and looks over at the newlyweds, talking quietly and intensely in-between the stacks. "They're not merging accounts or anything, so."
"Not like there's a whole lot for her to steal," Boy Chris says dryly. He turns away, finally, and crosses his arms across his chest. "You gonna introduce her to Willa?"
Jess keeps looking at them. Matt smiles, suddenly, and he can hear Girl Chris laugh. But her back is turned, so he can't see her face to see how real it is, how her smile matches up to Matthew's. "Not right away. We'll see how it goes."
"Yeah."
Jess feels the urge for a cigarette, the first one he's had in weeks. He quit for good the day he brought Willa back home, and he only ever thinks about it when she's not around. "You should go ask her why she hated my book."
"Ugh, no, you loser, you do it if you wanna know."
"I can't do it."
"Then live with the fucking mystery, dipshit," Boy Chris says.
Jess sighs angrily. "Fine."
"You need to get laid, man," Boy Chris says.
"Fuck off."
"No, I'm serious. Maybe Girl Chris has some science friends." Boy Chris pauses. "What do you think scientists are like in bed?"
"Ask Matthew," Jess suggests.
Boy Chris wrinkles his nose. "I can definitely live with that mystery, thanks," he says.