She would always chuckle. “Yeah, but I got laid.”
“That’s overrated,” I would say. Lying, of course.
It was hard not to be happy for Beth and Jerry and Dylan, who had all managed to find their people, so I devoted myself to positively supporting all of their relationships. I added another houseplant to my apartment, along with a betta fish that I named Anchovy. Just getting a fish equaled more commitment than Rose had made in her whole life. I figured I was easily on my way to twenty cats. I wondered about Rose’s dream all the time. I still had it, but it would always end before she’d open her eyes. The terrifying and touching moments in the dream were gone, but the sadness remained.
Stephen stopped screwing women in the basement after Dylan and I sent around a petition requesting that the door to the basement laundry room be removed. The super, who was not a fan of Stephen, gladly took the door off. Jamie continued leaving me messages, begging me to call him. That lasted two weeks, and then he resigned himself to simply calling and saying, “Good night” or “Good morning” or “I’m thinking about you,” on my voice mail. The messages made my heart ache, but it was a good ache. Somehow it felt like a healing ache. It’s like the pain you feel when the skin around a wound tightens up. I got to work on time every day because I stopped searching for Just Bob. I didn’t stop searching for the holiday train, though. My pathetic goal in life became sitting next to Santa on the goddamned L, and I wouldn’t stop until it happened. I made myself believe that searching for a fake Santa on a train was enough to live for.
Time sidled by like I was watching my life as a rerun in slightly slower motion—until the morning when I saw a familiar face on the L. It was December and freezing in Chicago, but I was sweating. There’s a constant adjustment of your body temperature when you live in a cold place. I like to pile on layers of clothes because I hate stepping out into the cold, but then I always end up half walking, half jogging to the train. By the time I board I’m usually sweating profusely. On top of it, the transit system pumps heat into the subway portals so there’s no ice buildup on the tracks. There’s sometimes a stuffiness in the stations, and then if a train is crowded and you’ve been running for four blocks and you’re wearing a parka, there’s a good chance you will either pass out or puke, and that’s what almost happened the morning I met Christina.
I recognized her right away but couldn’t place her. She looked to be in her thirties, with strawberry blond hair and a perfect complexion. She recognized me instantly but continued to scrutinize me. My heart was beating out of my chest from running. I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and began frantically removing my coat. She was still watching me, and then she tilted her head to the side. I felt like she was studying me.
“Are you Kate?”
“Yes,” I said through heavy breaths. She grinned knowingly, so I moved across the aisle to sit next to her. I turned and stuck my sweaty hand out. “I’m sorry, I recognize you but I can’t figure out where I know you from.”
“Does Robert Connor ring a bell?”
After removing my giant coat and catching my breath, I looked down at my hands while I searched my mind. “Uh no, sorry.”
“Bob, from the train.”
“Oh, Just Bob. Yes! Yes, I know him. I remember you now. You used to sit with us. I haven’t seen Bob. I couldn’t find him. I just figured he had started taking a different line.”
Her face changed and her lips turned down. “I’m glad I found you, even though I’m so sorry to have to tell you this. Bob passed away a month and a half ago.”
Fuck. I knew something had happened.
“Oh no.” My eyes started watering. “What happened?”
“We think he died a peaceful death from natural causes. He was older than he looked. He was ninety-five but sharp as a tack.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Well, he didn’t have any close friends or family so his body wasn’t found for quite some time.” She furrowed her eyebrows and puckered her lips, clearly still emotional at the idea.