Jimmy wasn’t sad, so he ordered—and paid for—a Bud Light.

While he waited for his beer, he saw a lot of girls he vaguely knew dressed in shiny clothes. They were cackling and drinking rounds of shots and wearing tiaras and boas and BRIDE SQUAD hats. Some bachelorette party or something.

He got his beer and left a big tip (because he could) and passed a couple of regulars who were sitting at the bar. It had been a while since Jimmy had been to the Moose Paddy and he was surprised by how old those guys had gotten. Some of them stopped him and asked how his parents liked retirement. He said it suited them just fine. And they told him to say hi to them for them. And he said he would.

Then he headed to the back of the establishment, where it was quieter, and he eventually found a table near the pool tables and the dartboards and the restrooms. The jukebox was playing an old song about a crazy little thing called love. And he bopped his head a little to the music. And he took off his Pelletier’s Heating and Cooling jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, because it was warm, and sat down and started scoping out the place.

And he soon lost his confidence. Because he realized that most of the women who were there were going to be young. And he was not young anymore. He was pushing thirty. And to be single at thirty in Almost, Maine, meant you’d most likely be single when you were forty. And when you were fifty. And when you were sixty.

And just when he was about to get up and grab his coat and go, something wonderful happened.

He saw Sandrine.

She was coming his way—from the ladies’ room, he guessed. And she seemed to be gliding in slow motion right toward him. She looked beautiful—in her tight jeans and a shimmery purple shirt and boots that made her much taller than she actually was.

He hadn’t seen her since she’d left.

And he felt that eerie lightness again. It made his whole body tingle.

Jimmy rose to greet Sandrine and held out his arms to embrace her. But then she walked right by his table and suddenly seemed to be moving at regular speed as she headed back toward the front of the Moose Paddy.

Jimmy watched her walk toward the front for a little too long. And then realized he’d better act or she’d be out of earshot, and he called out—a little too loudly—“Sandrine!?!”

Sandrine stopped and started turning toward the guy who had called her name.

“Yeah?” she asked. She was in a giggly fog. Because she was happy. And she had done a shot of peach schnapps not too long ago.

But as soon as she saw Jimmy, she came out of her giggly fog and got still and sober.

Because Jimmy was the last person in the world she wanted to see right then. She almost recoiled and said, “Oh, God.” But didn’t, and instead forced a smile and gave her ex-boyfriend a warm greeting. “Jimmy! Hi!”