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NATHAN: Good evening, everybody. You’re listening to Nights with Nathan, where we answer your questions, solve your problems, and occasionally make things worse. But hey, what else are you listening for? We have time for one more caller before we talk about what's been popular in the news recently. Who am I speaking to?
GIRL: Nora.
NATHAN: Hi, Nora. What can I help you with this evening?
NORA: I need you to help me get my uncle a new wife.
NATHAN: I'm sorry?
NORA: A wife. For my uncle.
NATHAN: Okay. Well… that's certainly a first.
NORA: He had one before, but she died.
NATHAN: Oh, Nora. I'm sorry.
NORA: It's okay. It was a while ago. I want him to be happy again.
A small silence settles over the studio.
NATHAN: Does your uncle know you're calling me?
NORA: No.
NATHAN: I had a feeling.
NORA: He would say I shouldn't worry about him. That I should do my homework and go to bed on time.
Nathan laughs.
NATHAN: Fair enough. Tell us a little more about your uncle.
NORA: His name is… John. He's forty-eight.
NATHAN: And what makes John such a good candidate for a new wife?
NORA: He's nice. He's a doctor, likes adventures, loves our cat, and he's good at taking care of me.
NATHAN: Good qualities.
NORA: He makes pancakes.
NATHAN: Excellent quality.
NORA: He lets me put chocolate chips in them even though Mom says I'm not supposed to have chocolate before school. And he's good at fixing things. The toilet, Mom's car, broken bones.
NATHAN: Sounds useful.
NORA: He's very useful.
NATHAN: Nora, I have to ask, why does he need a wife specifically? Why can't he just have friends?
NORA: He has friends. But they don't make him go to bed at ten. And they don't tell him when he's being stupid. He needs somebody to tell him when he's being stupid.
NATHAN: That's a very specific role.
NORA: My mom does it, but she's his older sister, so he doesn't listen.
NATHAN: I get it, I'm a younger brother myself. So your family has been living together?
NORA: Yeah. Uncle Ja—John moved in with us after my grandma got sick. He used to live in the state over from us. He said he wanted to help Mom because she was having a hard time. And he said he wanted to be closer to us.
NATHAN: That's very kind of him. Does he like living with you?
NORA: I think so.
NATHAN: You think so?
NORA: I don't know. When he works at night it's hard to hang out with him. He makes sure we're taken care of, but doesn't seem to do anything for himself.
NATHAN: Maybe he misses your aunt.
NORA: I know. That's why he needs a wife, so he won't miss her as much.
NATHAN: And why do you think that will happen, Nora?
NORA: Well, he loves me. He has a lot of love for many things, so obviously he has love to give for another person.
NATHAN: So, Nora, what exactly were you hoping I would do?
NORA: Find someone for him. She needs to be nice, like kids, and like pancakes. And doesn't mind that he talks about his wife Jen.
NATHAN: I'm afraid I don't have a catalog of available women sitting here in the studio, Nora.
NORA: You have a podcast and a million followers. Ask them to help.
NATHAN: You know what? I think that's exactly what we're going to do.
NORA: Really?
NATHAN: Really.
NORA: And you won't tell Uncle John I called?
NATHAN: I make no promises. This will be posted on my page and he might find it.
NORA: He doesn't have social media, so I don't know that he'll find it. But please don't tell him.
NATHAN: Why?
NORA: Because then he'll know I think he's lonely and he'll tell me he's fine.
Nathan smiles.
NATHAN: Okay, Nora. Here's what we'll do. You go to bed, now. You let your uncle make you pancakes. You let your mom tell you not to eat chocolate before nine in the morning.
NORA: Okay.
NATHAN: And I'll put the word out. I'll make a post on my TikTok page and ask for applications. One last question. Does your uncle actually want a wife?
A long pause.
NORA: I don't know.
NATHAN: Then maybe that's something we should let him decide. Deal?
NORA: Deal.
The line clicks off.
NATHAN: Folks, you heard her. John is forty-eight. He makes excellent pancakes, fixes everything, loves his family, and apparently is in desperate need of someone willing to tell him when he's being stupid.
A beat.
NATHAN: If you know a woman who likes pancakes, children, fixing broken men, and understands that loving someone new doesn't mean loving someone old any less...
He grins.
NATHAN: Write us an email. I'll figure out the rest.
———
Jack has never felt more vindicated in telling his sister Liz that Nora doesn't need an iPhone.
That podcast she called into? It blew up overnight. He's never been more grateful for his small online presence.
"I don't get another chance at love." He kisses Nora's head as he slides a plate of pancakes in front of her. "Not like what I had with Jen."
"Sorry Jack," Nora sing-songs."I just thought it would help. You don't seem to have any friends."
"I have friends," Jack argues. "I have you, and I have your mom. Most of my friends are still in Pittsburgh, so you don't see them."
"Like Robby?"
"Yeah." Jack pulls out his phone and finds a photo of him and some of his colleagues from the Pitt from a few years ago. "There's others here too. Robby, Dana. That guy is Shen, that's Jesse, Ellis, and that's Dr. Mohan."
"Dr Mohan?" Nora shoves pancake into her mouth. "How come you call her that instead of her name?"
"Swallow before speaking, please," Jack reminds her. She's always been bad at talking with her mouth full of food. "And I don't know. She wanted everyone to call her Samira, but it didn't feel right."
"Wasn't she your friend? She's pretty."
"Something like that," Jack says. "Finish up. You've got school soon."
Samira wouldn't have even known about the podcast if her car would stop breaking down.
She's an Attending now. She should have a better car. But there's just something stopping her from getting a new one. Maybe she likes the hustle. And besides, it's good for the environment to carpool, right?
Frank is the one who picks her up. He's still at the Pitt. She's at Presby. They swap case stories and coworker drama while he drives. They make it work.
"Listen to this podcast," he says before she's even put on her seatbelt. They're running behind schedule today. "This dude is perfect for you."
Frank turns up the volume.
"Frank," Samira chastises. "Why would I need to find a date from a podcast?"
"He's old and a doctor. And you said that one time at the bar that you thought Abbot was hot. So…" Frank gestures outwardly.
Samira sighs. "All this does is make me regret going out with you."
"Whatever. Sue me for trying to cater to your type," he mocks.
They fall into silence. Samira listens to the caller. It tugs at her heartstrings to hear about how sad this little girl is. Maybe she's due for her period soon. That has to be why.
Even during her shift, the podcast stays on her mind. When she gets off of work, she sits in her car and searches up the podcast on TikTok. They posted the clip, and it's got a couple hundred thousand likes. The comments are all over it.
And there's an email that she can contact. Samira scoffs. She's not auditioning for this man. Especially since she knows nothing about him.
A text comes in.
Frank Langdon (Pitt)
Cassie and I were going to go out tonight if you wanted to come.
Please come.
I can embarrass myself instead tonight.
me
Fine. But not too late, I have another shift tomorrow.
Frank Langdon (Pitt)
You always did love to work. See you there
The bar is fun. Samira hasn't seen Cassie in a while. She watches how much she drinks, too aware of Cassie and Langdon's history to fully let loose. And Cassie, turns out, is fully onboard with Samira and John.
"You need to get laid," Cassie says. "It keeps you loose. And it's fun for all involved. Why not try?"
After Langdon tries and fails to belly-roll, she goes home.
In her bed, she listens to the podcast again. The man likes cats. That's really what gets her. So many men are dog people.
She's tipsy. She opens her email.
Subject: Application for John?
Hello. My name is Sam, and I am writing to express my interest in John and his niece, Nora. I am 34 years old. I live in Pittsburgh.
I am a doctor as well. I work in the ER and many people say I am married to my job. I have a cat. That's what really excited me.
I cannot make pancakes well, but I am willing to learn.
I am sorry to hear about how you are all navigating your grief. My father passed when I was young and there are still days that are hard for me. What I find that helps is having people who understand your grief walk beside you.
I like the color purple. I like matcha. I am not adventurous, but I am willing. I am much more of a homebody, but I am trying to get out more.
Thanks,
Sam.
She sends the email and forgets all about it.
———
NATHAN: Good evening, everybody. You’re listening to Nights with Nathan, where we answer your questions, solve your problems, and occasionally make things substantially worse. But hey, what else are you listening for? Last week, we spoke with Nora about her single uncle who likes cats and is good at making pancakes. And you ladies certainly showed your love for him! As a treat today, we have both Nora and her uncle John on the line. As of filming, I have received three hundred and twelve emails.
JACK: Three hundred and twelve?
NATHAN: Three hundred and twelve.
JACK: I thought you said you were going to put the word out. I didn't think I would be this popular.
NATHAN: In my defense, I also didn't expect the entire internet to be this interested in you.
NORA: I told you.
JACK: You told me what?
NORA: That people like you. My teacher Miss Willis always asks when you're going to pick me up, but she doesn't ask other kids that.
NATHAN: For everyone just joining us, that very nice and deep voice you just heard is John. He is Nora's uncle, and he has apparently been informed of his own matchmaking campaign approximately three days after it began.
JACK: I found out because my sister saw it on Facebook. Do you know how popular it's gotta be for her to see it?
NORA: She said I have good instincts.
NATHAN: You do, Nora. And Jack, I have good news.
JACK: I'm not sure I want to hear it.
NATHAN: You have options. We have compiled a small selection of candidates.
JACK: That's awfully nice, but I think I'll pass.
NATHAN: Good thing they're for Nora's new aunt, not for you. Are you ready Nora?
NORA: Yep!
She's giggling throughout the whole thing. Nathan knows that the audience will eat their relationship up.
JACK: Why are the two of you conspiring against me?
There is a rustle of paper.
NATHAN: Candidate number one. "Hi, Nathan. I'm twenty-nine, I'm a pediatric dentist, I love dogs, I run marathons, and I make an excellent lasagna."
NORA: No.
NATHAN: That was quick.
NORA: Uncle John doesn't like running. He has a robot leg.
JACK: I have a prosthetic. I was in the army.
NATHAN: Wow. Just when you couldn't get more dreamy. Candidate number two. "Hi, Nathan. I'm thirty-eight, divorced, no children, two cats, and I make an excellent Sunday roast."
NORA: Maybe. But I don't like pot roast.
JACK: I don't need a wife who makes Sunday roast.
NATHAN: What if she makes an excellent Sunday roast and likes adventure?
JACK: Then she can make it for someone else.
NATHAN: Candidate number three is a lawyer.
JACK: Nope. I don't want to date a lawyer.
NORA: Why?
JACK: Because I don't.
There is another shuffle.
NATHAN: And then there's this one. This one came in the night after the original episode aired.
He clears his throat.
NATHAN: "Hello. My name is Sam, and I am writing to express my interest in John and his niece, Nora. I am thirty-four years old. I live in Pittsburgh. I am a doctor as well. I work in the ER and many people say I am married to my job."
NORA: She's a doctor?
JACK: Lots of people are doctors, bug. It doesn't mean we'll automatically click.
NATHAN: "I have a cat. That's what really excited me. So many men are dog people."
NORA: She likes cats. I wonder if she has one.
NATHAN: "I cannot make pancakes well, but I am willing to learn."
NORA: That's good.
JACK: But I make the pancakes. That's my job.
NORA: You can teach her. So she could make them with you in the mornings.
Jack doesn't answer. Nathan continues.
NATHAN: "I am sorry to hear about how you are all navigating your grief. My father passed when I was young and there are still days that are hard for me. What I find that helps is having people who understand your grief walk beside you."
The tone in the studio shifts. Jack's joking expression fades.
NATHAN: "I like the color purple. I like matcha. I am not adventurous, but I am willing. I am much more of a homebody, but I am trying to get out more."
A pause.
NATHAN: Thanks for this submission, Sam.
NORA: I like her.
JACK: You don't know her.
NORA: But I like her. She knows you don't have to stop loving Aunt Jen.
Nathan lets the silence sit for a moment.
NATHAN: John? What are your thoughts?
JACK: She knows almost nothing about me.
NATHAN: You lived in Pittsburgh before, is that right?
JACK: Yeah. That's a funny coincidence.
NATHAN: I'm struggling to identify the problem. Do you think it's a sign? That she's from Pittsburgh?
JACK: No. I'm not a guy that believes in universal intervention. I don't get second chances.
NORA: He refuses to let me read his horoscope.
NATHAN: So, Nora. You said this woman is the one.
JACK: There isn't a "the one."
NORA: Maybe not for you.
JACK: You can't pick my wife, bug. I love Jen, even to this day. A lot of women need more from me and it's fair of them to want more. I'm not the guy to provide it.
NATHAN: Okay, here's what I propose. We send Sam a reply. And we tell her that John is willing to have a conversation. On air.
JACK: I'll consider it. Just to entertain this.
NATHAN: That's practically a proposal from him, right Nora?
JACK: You're pushing your luck.
NATHAN: All right, all right.
A beat.
NATHAN: Sam, if you're listening, congratulations. You've made it farther than three hundred and eleven other women.
JACK: That's not what happened.
NATHAN: And Nora? Are you happy with tonight's progress?
NORA: Mostly. Can we at least email her back?
Jack sighs.
JACK: I'll think about it.
NATHAN: And there you have it, folks. The first step in what may become the most aggressive matchmaking campaign Pittsburgh has ever seen.
JACK: I'm hanging up.
NORA: Don't hang up!
NATHAN: Jack, before you go—
JACK: What?
NATHAN: Do you like purple?
JACK: It's fine.
NORA: He hates purple.
JACK: I do not hate purple. I think other colors have more merit.
NATHAN: Good night, Jack.
JACK: Good night.
NORA: Good night!
The line clicks.
Nathan waits a moment before relaxing in his seat and taking a long sip of his water bottle.
A producer's voice comes faintly through the studio. "He likes her."
Nathan smiles. "I think he might. Get me her email."
———
Samira sees the email the next morning.
She deletes it.
Frank is practically buzzing when he picks her up that morning.
"Holy shit," he says. "Is this you, Samira? Everyone on Instagram is going crazy."
"Ugh." Samira slams the door shut. "Turn that off. I was drunk when I submitted that email."
"He likes you though. This is your chance." Frank turns up the volume. "Just listen to it."
She turns the volume off.
But she's curious, as most humans naturally are.
She reads the comments. Everyone wants them to talk to each other. The email burns a hole in her pocket.
Three days later, she answers it, and their call is set.
NATHAN: All right, everybody. This is the part of the show where I remind you that none of this was my idea.
JACK: You absolutely made it your idea.
NATHAN: That's revisionist history.
JACK: All because my niece put my life on the internet.
NATHAN: And tonight, folks, we have the moment Nora has been waiting for.
NORA: Yes!
A beat.
NATHAN: We have Sam on the other line.
Jack goes quiet. Nora makes a tiny, excited noise.
NORA: Hi, Sam!
There is a pause.
SAMIRA: Hi.
Her voice is warmer than Jack expected. She sounds nervous.
NATHAN: Sam, welcome to Nights with Nathan.
SAMIRA: Thank you. I'm beginning to regret this.
Nathan laughs.
NATHAN: That's fair. For the record, you are not the first person to say that to me.
SAMIRA: I believe it.
NATHAN: So, Sam, you sent us an email after hearing Nora's story. You said you were interested in John.
SAMIRA: I did. But im gonna be honest, i was a little inebriated when I wrote that.
Jack likes her honesty.
NORA: What's inebriated?
Jack laughs before he can stop himself. Samira hears it. There is a brief silence.
SAMIRA: Was that him?
NATHAN: That was him.
SAMIRA: Oh.
JACK: Hello.
SAMIRA: Hi.
Another silence.
SAMIRA: I should probably clarify that I didn't actually think I was applying to be his wife.
JACK: You have impeccable grammar and sentences for someone who was drunk. I'm impressed.
NATHAN: Well, let's start with the obvious. Sam, you're a doctor.
SAMIRA: Yes.
JACK: Where?
SAMIRA: I don't want to dox myself. In Pittsburgh, that's all you get.
There is a pause.
JACK: Pittsburgh?
SAMIRA: Yes.
JACK: Are you good at your job?
SAMIRA: Yes. Are you?"
JACK: Of course.
Something about the way he says it makes her smile.
NATHAN: I think we're getting somewhere.
NORA: I think you like her. You never laugh anymore.
NATHAN: Sam, what made you send the email?
SAMIRA: Well, it was Nora.
NORA: Me?
SAMIRA: You sounded worried about him. And I just thought I could fix him. That's our job, right John? We fix people.
Jack's amusement disappears.
JACK: You said your father died when you were young?
SAMIRA: Mhm.
JACK: I'm sorry. If you don't mind me asking, how old were you?
SAMIRA: Thirteen.
Jack doesn't say anything for a moment.
JACK: That's quite young. I'm sorry.
SAMIRA: Thank you. Really.
There is something strangely intimate about the exchange. Nathan wisely doesn't interrupt.
NORA: Sam, do you have a cat?
Samira laughs.
SAMIRA: I do.
NORA: What's his name?
SAMIRA: Her name is Ruby. What about you? You have a cat?
NORA: Yeah. His name is Mr. Pickles. He's fat.
JACK: He'll like you.
NATHAN: Okay, I'm going to ask the question everyone listening wants answered. Sam, what do you think of John?
SAMIRA: He sounds nice.
NATHAN: John?
JACK: She sounds nice too.
NATHAN: That's it?
JACK: That's enough for now.
Samira smiles into her phone.
SAMIRA: I agree.
NORA: So you like each other.
Jack is quiet.
JACK: Maybe.
Samira doesn't answer immediately.
SAMIRA: Yeah, maybe. You're very guarded, did you know that?
Jack's silence is immediate.
JACK: Maybe I'm not talkative.
SAMIRA: You're talkative enough when you're arguing with Nathan. And you keep changing the subject whenever Nora talks about you.
JACK: Maybe there's not much to say.
SAMIRA: I don't believe that. But that's okay.
JACK: Why?
SAMIRA: Because I don't know you either. That means we have all the things in the world to talk about. What’s better than that?
NORA: Can she come over?
JACK: Nora. You can't invite strangers into the house.
NORA: But she likes purple. And you hate it, so we’ll get along.
JACK: I don't hate purple. Hate is a strong word. It should be reserved for bigger things.
SAMIRA: That's unfortunate.
JACK: Why?
SAMIRA: Because I was going to say we'd already found something to fight about.
Jack laughs.
NATHAN: All right. I think that's probably enough for tonight. Thank you to John and Sam, and thank you to you, for tuning in.
———
Jack has a date. Not with Sam.
He downloaded Hinge after finding out that Nora was so worried about him being alone. It wasn't going to last, it was just to get her off his back.
"Her name is Celia," he says to Nora as he opens the door to leave. Celia has brown hair. She seems tall. She teaches preschool, which means she is patient. Far more than he ever was.
"I don't like her," Nora whines.
"You haven't even met her," Jack argues. "You wanted me to go out. I'm doing it."
"With Sam. You're supposed to be on a date with Sam."
Jack looks nice. He actually styled his hair and shaved. He has a nice shirt on, one that he had to run through the dryer to de-wrinkle first, but it's a nice shirt.
The date is nice too. It's been a while since Jack had high quality food that wasn't catered to a kid.
"What's Sienna like?" Nora asks the next day at breakfast.
"It's Celia." Jack sends her a look. "And… she's got a bob. Very sleek."
He can't remember a single notable thing about her.
———
“Send another email."
Frank's leg is bouncing, and it's bouncing their table. Samira's too annoyed to say anything.
"C'mon," he begs. "Do it for the drama."
"Or for love," Cassie corrects. "At least meet him."
"Are you hearing yourself?" Samira rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her matcha. "You guys really want me to meet a random man?"
"We can hide in a bush nearby," Frank offers.
Samira gives him a look so dirty that he flinches.
Cassie gasps. "Meet in public. That's always the answer."
Samira puts her phone down in front of them, and they go silent. "Write an email for me. I doubt he'll even reply. Just don't make it weird."
Cassie opens her email app. "Ideas for a subject line?"
"Something normal," Samira answers sharply. "Don't run him off."
Samira snatches her phone back after Frank suggests that they title it 'A Dubious Invitation'.
"No subject line, I think." Her fingers hover over the keyboard. "Dear John?"
She glances at her friends.
Cassie nods. "Yeah. That works. Like the movie."
I enjoyed talk to you, and I've been thinking about you said. I'll offer a proposal for you, if you want to meet.
Frank sits up straighter.
Just once, just us. No podcast and no Nathan to mediate. Only if you'd like. I appreciated the conversation anyway.
Samira looks up. "Where do I tell him to meet me then?"
"Restaurant?"
"No. Too busy."
"Bar?"
"No, Frank."
"You need somewhere memorable," he complains. Then his eyes light up. "The pier."
Samira looks at him. "What pier?"
"The one by the river."
Cassie slaps a hand down on the table. "That's good. That's a good idea. Ticks off all your boxes too."
Samira shakes her head. "No way. That feels insane."
But it feels completely and wholly right.
Samira looks at the email. She types again.
If you want to, I'll be at the pier on Tuesday, September 8th at 7:00 p.m.
Frank reads over her shoulder. "That's it? At least tell him why."
Samira reads it over.
Hi, John.
I enjoyed talking to you, and I've been thinking about our conversation. Maybe we could meet. Just once. No podcast, no Nathan, no Nora making fun of you.
If you'd like, I'll be at the pier on September 8th at 7:00 p.m.
If you want to go on a date with me, come find me.
If not, that's okay too.
—Sam
She hands the phone to Cassie. "Okay. You need to press send, I'll chicken out."
Cassie sends it like it doesn't matter. Like it means nothing.
"It's probably stupid," Samira rationalizes. "He probably won't see it."
———
Nathan gets that email screenshotted and sent to Nora's iPad before the hour is over.
Nora can't hide her excitement.
"Uncle Jack! Uncle Jack! Look at this email Sam sent. You have to go."
Jack reads the email. It's short and to the point, which he appreciates. But it doesn't stop the creeping feeling of nausea deep down in his stomach.
He hands the iPad back. "I've got plans tonight. With Celia."
Nora's face falls. "Again? Why?"
Jack gives her a look. "Be nice. That's what you do when you date. You go on more than one."
"Sam likes you."
"It's not the same, bug." He looks back at the email. "I told you I was going to try. And I am, with Celia."
"Why her?"
Jack runs his hand over his face. "Because she's here, and she's willing."
Nora's expression changes. "Sam is close. It's not a far drive at all. And you lived there."
Jack shakes his head. "I know what you're saying. And I can't go back there, that's not how this works."
"I want you to be happy." Nora looks down at the iPad. "You could just meet her."
Jack walks to the shoe closet. "Get up, kiddo. Put your shoes on."
Nora can't believe it. "We're going to meet Sam?"
"Celia," Jack corrects. "She's insisting on picking me up, so you're going to meet her. And you can tell me all about how you hate her tomorrow."
———
Celia is perfectly fine.
She is waiting at the end of their driveway when they walk outside of their house, smiling politely, wearing a dark coat and knee-high boots, which Nora's mom has always said are for sluts. Nora doesn't comment on it. Not yet.
"Hi," Celia says.
Jack puts a hand on Nora's shoulder. "Celia, this is my niece, Nora."
Celia crouches slightly. "I've heard a lot about you."
Nora looks at Jack. "Really?"
"Mostly good things," Celia says.
Nora studies her. "Can you make pancakes?"
"I can make them from a mix."
"That's not a dealbreaker." Jack has to suppress a smile.
Nora doesn't look convinced.
Jack checks his watch. "Okay. We should head out."
Then, as Jack turns toward the car, Nora looks back at Celia. "I don't like you."
"Nora." Jack clears his throat, cheeks reddening. "That's not polite. Please apologize."
Celia smiles awkwardly. "It's alright. I appreciate the honesty."
”It’s not alright,” Jack snaps. His brows furrow. “Apologize. Now.”
Nora looks at Jack. "I don't feel good. I'm going to barf all over her dress."
Jack studies her. "Do you actually feel sick?"
She nods. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
Jack deflates a little, upset by her ministrations. “I'll bring you a dessert, okay? Cheesecake good?"
Nora's folded arms loosen a bit. “Okay. Love you."
———
A couple of hours later, Jack returns with an oreo cheesecake in hand.
He and Celia decided to not go another date.
The house is empty when Jack gets back. He searches Nora's room first. Her backpack is gone. A few clothes are missing and her jacket is gone. Jack stops breathing for a second.
He runs downstairs. His eyes catch on the kitchen table. There is a piece of paper sitting beneath the salt shaker. His name is written across the front. His hands shake as he picks it up. He unfolds it, smiling at the messy handwriting.
Dear Uncle Jack,
I'm sorry.
You don't like Celia. You like Sam. And she likes you. So I'm going to Pittsburgh. I'm going to find her. I have saved up plenty of bus money. I think if you meet her, you'll be happy. You should at least try.
Jack stares at the words. Then the fear catches up with him. He grabs his phone.
His sister answers immediately. "What's the matter?"
"She's gone. Nora, she went to Pittsburgh."
"What?"
"She's going to Pittsburgh. I should be able to beat her bus if I take my truck." He stands so quickly the chair scrapes against the floor. "I'm going after her. I'll get her back, I promise.”
———
Samira has always been punctual.
She sits at a bench on the pier for far longer than she should. Pittsburgh glows under the sunset, gold and shining.
Her phone says it's 6:42. Not that she's checking.
She's halfway through convincing herself that she never should have expected him to actually show up when she hears footsteps behind her.
She turns.
Its a girl. Dark red hair and a pink backpack, visibly exhausted. "Is your name Sam?"
Samira swallows. Her heart beats faster. "Samira."
The girl nods. "Okay," she breaks out into a toothy grin. "That's good."
"Are you are?"
"I'm Nora. Can I sit by you, for a moment?"
Samira takes in the girls appearance. She's fidgety. Eyes red. Nerves shot. Samira pities her.
"Yeah." Samira scoots over a bit. "Have a seat. I’m waiting on someone who isn’t going to show up.”
Nora drops her backpack and sits beside her. "I just took a bus here. It was kind of crazy. And my family doesn't know I'm here. Look."
Nora shows Samira her phone, which is chock-full of missed calls from her mother and uncle.
"Oh?" Samira raised an eyebrow. "Can you call someone? Tell them you are safe?"
"I left my uncle a note." Nora rolls her eyes. "He'll come."
They sit quietly for a moment, Nora taking in the scenery. "It's pretty here. I see why people live here."
"It has its advantages—"
“Nora.”
A different voice comes from behind them. An angry, exhausted one.
“Oh shit,” Nora says. “Don’t tell him I swore.”
Samira turns.
Jack Abbot is standing at the end of the pier. His hair is windblown. His coat is half-buttoned, his breathing uneven from the walk, and there is something almost boyish about the way he looks at Nora. Terrified and relieved all at once.
He looks exactly the same. Maybe with some more facial hair and grayer hair, but it's him.
“Oh my God,” Samira whispers.
Jack reaches Nora and drops down in front of her. “What were you thinking?” he asks, breathless. “You can't just leave the house. You scared the hell out of me.”
Nora throws her arms around his neck. “I left a note.” Nora squeezes him tighter. Jack closes his eyes.
Then Nora pulls away. "Okay,” she says. “Now talk to her.”
Jack looks at her. “I'm sorry?”
“You came all this way for Sam. She's here."
Jack glances toward Samira. The color drains from his face.
“Sam?”
She gives him a small, disbelieving smile. “Hi, John.”
His mouth falls open. “Samira.”
There is something in the way he says her name that makes her stomach twist.
“You're John,” she says.
He tips his head. “Jack's a nickname."
Nora looks between them. “You know each other?”
Jack exhales through his nose. “We used to work together. That's the picture I showed you, this is Dr. Mohan.”
Nora's eyes widen. “So you liked each other before?”
Jack closes his eyes. “Please go stand over there.”
“Why?”
“Because you're making this worse. Five minutes,” Jack says. “Please.”
Nora grins and wanders a few yards down the pier. Jack watches her go. Then he turns back to Samira.
She laughs under her breath. “I cannot believe this.”
They both can't stop laughing.
“I don't think I could have imagined seeing you again,” Jack says. “Not in a million years.”
“Me neither.”
Jack smiles faintly. “I did think you sounded familiar.”
Samira's heart skips. “You did?”
“When you said Pittsburgh. I was just thinking, what are the odds?" He looks at her for a long moment. “I almost asked what part.”
“I'm at Presby now."
He nods. "That's good. Do you like it?"
“Yeah.” She looks out across the river. “You know, I had a crush on you.”
His eyebrows lift. "Well, I considered asking you out. Several times in fact."
“Why didn't you?”
He gives her a look. “You know why.”
She did. It was everything between them. And Jen, the biggest wound that she didn't know how to heal. And she respected him, even when it hurt.
“I never wanted to come between you and her,” she says.
Jack steps a little closer. “I love Jen. But loving her doesn't mean I can't…”
Samira waits. And Jack is still so stupid, because there was this woman who understands him and has the patience for him, and he was too chicken to ever make the first move.
His eyes meet hers. “I know that when Nathan read your email, I wanted to hear you speak. And when you laughed, I knew I wanted to hear your voice again.” His expression softens. “You're still terrible at hiding when you're nervous. I think it's cute.”
"And you're red. All over, that's cute too."
Jack laughs quietly, ears growing warmer still at the comment . He takes another step toward her. “So, Sam.”
“Yes?”
He smiles. “I'd like to take you on a date. A real one."
“Are you sure?” she asks inquisitively.
He holds out his hand. She looks at it for a moment before taking it. They fit together so easily.
It is such a small thing.
Jack looks down at their hands. “I should've asked you out earlier. Should've at least said something before I left."
Samira squeezes his hand.“You should have. But you're here now, and we're trying."
“I was an idiot.” Jack shakes his head.
"I never thought you liked me," Samira admits. "But my crush developed when you donated blood during Pittfest. I thought it was very noble."
Jack grins. “I remember.”
She looks at him. “You remember everything?”
His smile becomes quieter. “About you? Yeah.”
They start walking back toward Nora. After a few steps, Samira feels his hand slip into hers again.
And on their third date, they email a selfie to Nathan, Jack's lips pressed up against Samira's cheek.