Page 14 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

“Yeah. The Lucas. Though I never agreed to the other nickname.” Gwendy, with her need to romanticize everything, had latched on to my metaphor, that Lucas drew me to him like a black hole, and was also forever beyond my reach.

“Oh, honey.”

“You saw him already?”

I’m proud of how steady my voice is when I reply. “It didn’t go well.” Though it’s difficult to know what well would have looked like. After all, avoiding Lucas was the whole reason I put off RSVPing to Brody’s wedding. “Abe told him about the paper, and of course Lucas wanted to see my research and⁠—”

“Did he guess it was about him?”

I give a watery shake of my head. “I don’t know. Maybe? I guess I thought I’d have more time to prepare, and it’s so much harder than I thought it would be,” I admit, finally. My glasses are foggy from my tears, and I wish I could channel the energy of my younger self, when I was able to focus on the anger instead of the sadness.

“You need to tell him.”

It’s what Gwendy’s been arguing from the very beginning, despite not knowing all of the details.

“All of it, whatever the truth was behind that definitely-not-real engagement, your condition, the fact that you’re even working with Abe Kleinberg, of all people, when⁠—”

“Stop.”

Gwendy stops talking, and for a moment the only sound is that of The Dog panting.

“I don’t want to rehash old arguments. I just want a distraction before I have to attend his”—my brain blanks out for a moment, and I can’t think of a single appropriate adjective—“stupid talk. Because I’ll have to hear his stupid voice lecturing on something stupidly brilliant that only Lucas fucking Murray could have come up with, and⁠—”

“I could fly out,” Daisy offers. “I can be very distracting.”

“Don’t be silly⁠—”

But Gwendy cuts me off, her tone an exaggerated form of petulance. “Wow. So you don’t fly out for my birthday⁠—”

“I didn’t have money⁠—”

“But now you’ve got a rich math-y daddy.”

I sniffle, because yes, thank you, this is what I needed. Their bickering is soothing, even if they’re not here with me, even if Daisy’s across the country and Gwendy will be leaving when she graduates this May.

“Please don’t call Lars that.”

“It does sound wrong,” I manage to contribute.

“Agreed.” There’s a deep voice offscreen, and it’s only then I realize Daisy isn’t alone.

“Sorry,” Daisy mouths. “Lars is working from home.”

“Working,” Gwendy repeats. “I’m sure you’re getting all sorts of things done.”

“We are, actually.”

“We work very well together.” Lars’s voice is only slightly disembodied. I’ve yet to meet the man, but given how ecstatic Daisy has been since they got together? I’m a fan.

“That’s not the point.” Daisy moves The Dog, who barks in protest, his tongue wiping a streak across the phone screen. “I could cook all your favorite dishes, show you a million pictures of The Dog, and more importantly, I could be there tomorrow morning.”

“Actually, we could be there tonight,” Lars corrects, clearly already looking up flights.

“Please don’t fly out.” I’m almost smiling as I say this, but I’m also exhausted in a way that feels bone-deep. “This was all I needed.”

“Nicknaming Lars math-y daddy?”

I laugh again and look at the time. “Lucas’s talk starts soon and⁠—”