Doc Sidhe Read Free

anyway.  
    "Are you two serious?"
    "Yeah."
    "You going to marry her?"
    "Yeah."
    "Good."
    Harris heard the silence stretch out, felt the awkwardness grow between them. He ignored it, not letting Zeb off the hook. By millimeters, he adjusted the size of the bow in his shoelace.
    Finally, Zeb held his hand out.
    Harris looked at it a moment, then took it. "Okay, Zeb."
    "You going to be all right?"
    "Sure."
    "You might think about teaching. Lotta schools out there would be happy to have you."
    "Sure."
    "Give me a call." Zeb left, looking nearly as gloomy as Harris felt.
    Two Olympic appearances down the toilet.
    What the hell. His life wasn't over. He had a great girlfriend and a pair of well-tied shoes.
     
    Gaby was waiting for him on the sidewalk outside the Chinese restaurant. He spotted her from the corner across the street and took an extra minute just to watch her, as he always did when he had the chance.
    She was an Aztec princess by way of Elle magazine. With her high cheekbones and blacker-than-night hair, she took after her Mexican mother more than her Irish-American father. She wore jeans and a simple red silk blouse with confidence enough to suggest that she surpassed the dress code of the island's trendiest club. At this distance, he couldn't see her eyes, but he knew the way they looked at everything, focusing on this and dismissing that with intensity and razory speed.
    Then she spotted him. He expected her broad, welcoming smile, but all she did was wave. He crossed the street and joined her.
    She looked at his battered face and winced, then stretched up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. "How'd it go?"
    "Well, you'd know if you'd been there."
    "Yes, I know. I'm sorry. Let's go in, I'm starved."
    He held the door open for her. "So, what were you up to today?"
    "Tell you later."
    He ordered shrimp fried rice; she just asked for a cup of wonton soup. When the waitress left, he said, "I thought you were starving."
    "I am. Well, sort of starving." She looked uncomfortable and shut up.
    He let the silence hang between them for a moment. "Well, I've got some news," he said, just as she said, "I need to talk about something."
    They both smiled at the awkwardness.
    Harris didn't feel like smiling. Maybe she wanted to move in together. He didn't think he was ready for that. Maybe she even wanted to set a date. Oh, God; maybe, in spite of their precautions, she was pregnant. "You go first," he said.
    "No, you."
    "No, you."
    "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Harris, I think maybe we . . . ought to kind of go our separate ways."
    He put his head down on the table.
    "Harris?"
    "What?"
    "Did you understand me?"
    "I don't think so." He straightened up. Maybe she was speaking the same language as the referee earlier tonight. Taken apart, the words were English; put together, they made no sense.
    "Harris, it's not working."
    "What's not working?"
    " We're not working. Out. Working out."
    "The hell we're not. How are we not working out? We hardly ever fight."
    "I know we don't. You're one of the nicest men I've ever met."
    "Am I lousing up your career? Did your parents forget to tell me that they hate me?"
    "Nothing like that."
    "Is there another guy?"
    "No."
    "Another girl ?"
    She almost smiled. "Harris."
    "Look, if it's my career choice, let me tell you, I just went through a big change."
    "No."
    "Gaby, I love you." There they were, the magic words. He'd never had any problem saying them. He meant them.
    He waited, but this time she didn't say them back. She just gave him a look full of hurtful sympathy.
    "Oh, Jesus." He slumped back in his chair. "When did this happen?"
    "Harris." She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, he knew she'd found the words. "I think the world of you. I don't want to lose you as a friend. But . . . well, this is my fault. I keep expecting you to be something you're not."
    "Which is what? Just where exactly do I fall short?" He searched her face for a clue.
    She moved like a