"It's me, from the support meeting last month."

"Yep, I remember you," said Toby. "I was the dumb-ass."

"Did you find your artists' group this time?"

"Yep, I sure did."

"Was it worthwhile?"

"Well, have you heard that Groucho Marx quote about how he wouldn't want to belong to any club that would have him for a member? It was kind of like that. I'm all in favor of people appreciating my accomplishments, but they pretty much suck."

Great job, Toby! Sell yourself Sell yourself! Refer to yourself as a dumb-ass again Refer to yourself as a dumb-ass again! Impress her Impress her!

"What do you draw?"

"Cartoons."

"You mean like Bugs Bunny?"

"No, not animated. Comic strips. Like Garfield."

"Oh, that's great! Are you in newspapers?"

"Not yet."

"Well, you'll get there someday. Are you on your mom's refrigerator?"

"Uhhhh, no. She died. She killed herself."

Way to keep the mood light, dumb-ass.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. That was really thoughtless."

Toby shook his head. "No, no, that's totally fine. It's not like you asked me that while we were in a support group for orphans whose parents killed themselves. That would've been bad. I would've judged you for that."

"Well, I'm sorry anyway. It must've been hard."

"Yeah...it had its downside."

"Is your father still alive?"

"Uh, no, actually he died right before she did. Stroke. So you can sort of see the foundation for my mom's suicide."

"Wow, I'm really digging myself in deep here, aren't I?"

"You're fine. We'll just say that the awkward dead-parents thing evens out the dumb-ass wrong-room thing, and now we've both got perfect records."

Sarah ran her fingers through her hair. "Well, my perfect record is going to last for maybe another thirty seconds. I'm such a spaz. I barely have any foot left from always having it in my mouth."

"Hey, some people are into that."

Seriously? You're going to make a foot-fetish joke this early in the conversation You're going to make a foot-fetish joke this early in the conversation? Are you Are you trying trying to make her slowly back away from you to make her slowly back away from you? Why don't you just punch yourself in the brain, huh Why don't you just punch yourself in the brain, huh?

Sarah laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. So what do you do when you're not drawing the next Garfield?"

I hang out with a monster in the woods. His name is Owen. He's eaten the corpses of a couple of bullies I murdered, and he also killed my first and only girlfriend, but I forgave him because I'm one seriously screwed-up individual. Hey, we should date!

"I work for the Orange Leaf Times. Orange Leaf Times. Some layout, some proofreading. I've been getting into doing some local ad design, which is a lot of fun." Some layout, some proofreading. I've been getting into doing some local ad design, which is a lot of fun."

"Graphic design's a good career to be in."

"Yeah. I wish I'd known that twenty years ago."

She shrugged. "It's never too late. I'm going back to school part-time."

"Really? To study what?"

"Music."

"That's great! You mean playing music or teaching it or what?"

"This sounds so lame, but I'm not sure yet. I can't sing-if you believe nothing else I tell you, believe me when I say that I can't sing. And I can sort of play the saxophone."

"Saxophone? Seriously?"

"Yeah. I'm not professional level by any means, but it's fun. And I just-I wanted to learn more about it. My regular job is a waitress, and that's fine, I'm not miserable, but I never really did anything creative. I wanted to change direction. I haven't decided on the direction yet, but I want to change it. That sounds really stupid, doesn't it?"

"No. Not at all."

"It sounds a little stupid. You can say it."

"No, it doesn't, really." They stood there for a moment. Sarah giggled at the awkward silence. "How old are you?" Toby asked.

"Are you trying to start the faux pas count again?"

"You're right. That was dumb. Sorry."

"No, I'm kidding. I'm thirty-six."

"I'm forty."

"Damn, you're old."

"And decrepit. And I talk about my medical problems all the time. The ache in my knee means it's getting ready to rain."

"You're a very goofy man, Toby."

"Thank you." Holy shit! She remembered his name! "Usually I'm awful at carrying on conversations."

"Me, too. I just babble and forget words and stuff."

"Did you already have lunch?"

"I did. But I didn't have a hot fudge sundae."

"Do you want to get a hot fudge sundae?"

"Yes, I think I do."

CHAPTER T TWENTY-TWO.

It occurred to Toby that if he had talked and behaved this way in all of his social interactions, he might not have a life where his best friend had fur. Oh, sure, he wasn't a brilliant conversationalist or a sparkling wit or a charismatic force of nature, but he was comfortable, reasonably charming, and Sarah seemed to genuinely like him.

Toby told her that he didn't have children. She explained that she and Tom had never had kids, either-they'd wanted to, but the time never seemed right. Tom had one daughter from a previous marriage who had never really warmed up to Sarah and who she hadn't seen since the funeral.

He talked about the deaths of his parents. He did not talk about the death of Melissa.

She talked about the death of her husband. And then the death of her cat, Rexford, who got hit by a car. Then they joked about the fact that they were eating hot fudge sundaes and talking about death, and decided to move on to more lighthearted subjects.

They were both always the "weird kids" in school.

Her grades were usually C's and D's, because it took until the tenth grade to discover that she was dyslexic. Now she loved to read, but she was slow and had to really concentrate-no distractions. So school was taking up almost all of her free time, but it would be worth it in the end. If she figured out what she wanted to do by the time she graduated, of course.

Toby told her about how much he loved to spend time in the woods. He did not tell her about Owen.

They continued talking for over an hour after the sundaes were reduced to a thin layer of melted goo in the bottom of their bowls.

"I should get this out of the way," Sarah said, twisting her napkin. "I'm not looking to see anybody right now. But I could sure use a friend."

"So could I."

"Anyway, you don't want to date somebody as messed up as me. I'm a wreck. I figure you'll probably be even looking for a way out of the friendship in a couple of weeks, so here." She took a pen out of her purse, wrote on the back of the receipt for the sundaes, and gave the receipt to Toby: "Get Out Of Friendship Free."

"That's really dark," Toby noted.

"Yet considerate."

"I'm sure I won't need it. We've only just scratched the surface of my own issues. I guarantee you, if we made a list of reasons why the other one of us should run as fast as they possibly can, mine would be longer and scarier."

"I'll take your word on that. I don't think we should actually make the list, though. This dessert was going so well."

"I agree."

"I should get going. I promised my next-door neighbor that I'd watch her yard sale while she took the kids to baseball practice. Call me sometime, okay?"

"I will."

They walked out of the ice-cream parlor, and Sarah extended her hand. "Very nice to meet you, Toby."

"And very nice to meet you, Sarah."

"Talk to you soon."

"Absolutely."

Toby threw away the receipt.

"I didn't screw it up!" Toby cheerfully proclaimed. "Can you believe it? I wasn't creepy, I wasn't a babbling idiot, I didn't spill hot fudge all over my shirt-okay, one small spot, but I don't think she even noticed. It was amazing. She says she's not looking to actually date right now, but that's totally fine with me. She's still getting over her husband. But I had such a good time. It's so great to finally have a friend like that."

I'm friend.

"I know you are, Owen, you're my best friend. That's not what I meant."

Only friend.

"You are my only friend. I mean, were my only friend. I mean-you know what I mean. Don't get jealous on me. What the hell? I'm telling you about the beautiful woman who likes me. I'm middle-aged now, and I didn't exactly have women swarming me when I was young and virile. Just chill."

Owen turned away from him and sat down on the beanbag.

"Oh, what, you're going to pout now? You're going to give me crap because I suddenly have a human human friend? You need to grow up, Owen." friend? You need to grow up, Owen."

Without looking back, Owen waved for him to leave.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. Which, I would like to emphasize, is my whole point. Did I abandon you when I was with Melissa? Did I?"

No response.

"No, I didn't. And you know what, she was insatiable. There were lots of times when I came out here to spend time with you when I could've been getting laid like a porn star! Did you see me getting jealous when you ditched me for two years two years to be with your other monster buddies? Two years! If you're so goddamn jealous of me having a relationship with my own species, why don't you go visit them, huh?" to be with your other monster buddies? Two years! If you're so goddamn jealous of me having a relationship with my own species, why don't you go visit them, huh?"

Toby's shoulders fell. "Aw, shit, Owen, I'm sorry. There's no excuse for that. It was just mean."

He stepped toward Owen, who didn't look back, but let out a menacing growl.

"Don't do that, Owen. I'm serious."

The growling got louder. Owen looked back at Toby, teeth bared.

"I'm going to leave while you get yourself sorted out," Toby said, "but if you think that I haven't made sacrifices for our friendship, huge huge ones, then you can fuck off and die." ones, then you can fuck off and die."