“Man,” she said. “I need to go to the gym more.”

I held the door open for her. “Do this every day, and you won’t need to.”

“I think I need a little more than that.” Her weight was a continual source of worry for her. “I think I need to pick up some weird sport. You want to start playing squash with me?”

“Why squash?”

“I don’t know. Never tried it. Figured I should.”

Along with the other changes in her life, Maddie had recently adopted an attitude of getting out there and trying new things. Before my recent funk, I’d had kind of a similar view. Faced with centuries of existence, I’d found experimenting with new activities was a great distraction. There was always something new to learn in the world.

Mark’s was dimly lit, done in matte black décor. I flipped through the expansive drink menu, which upheld the restaurant’s name. When the waiter came around, I ordered a martini called First Blush: white chocolate liqueur, Chambord, and vodka. The menu called for Stoli, but I asked for Grey Goose.

“You ever considered dancing?” I asked Maddie. “It can be a good workout. You’re less likely to get hit in the head too.”

Maddie had ordered Sing the Blues: Blue Curaçao, pineapple juice, and Ketel One. Her face lit up.

“I’ve always wanted to. Doug said you used to teach swing at the bookstore.”

“Yeah, I did some group lessons last fall. My friend Cody helped me.” A pleasant wave of nostalgia swept me as I recalled those days. Things had been simpler, and I’d had a lot of fun teaching my friends and co-workers while doing one of my favorite activities.

“I wish I’d been there,” she said wistfully. “I’m kind of uncoordinated, but you know . . . if I don’t try, how will I learn?”

“Maddie, you should be doing motivational speaking.”

She laughed. “I don’t know about that. But I’d do dance lessons if you ever taught again. Hint, hint.”

The waiter returned with our drinks. I nearly died when I tasted mine. It was an 80 proof, raspberry dream. “I don’t know. The staff pretty much learned all they could with swing.”

“Then teach something else. Doug says you know every kind of dance in the world. I’d help you organize it.”

“Maybe I’ll do salsa or something,” I told her, not sure if I meant it. “When all this drama’s over.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? You know that I’m here if you need something.”

The earnestness and compassion on her face made a lump form in my throat. I’d spent the last few months hating her, but her friendship and faith in me had never faltered. Suddenly feeling guilty, I glanced away from her eyes.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.” Silence fell, silence that bothered me immensely. I felt a need to give something back to her for her kindness. My thoughts from a few nights ago about moving flashed into my head. I glanced back up. “Maybe you can help me find a new place, though.”