“I don’t know. A month maybe. Maybe two months.”
“You never said anything.”
“Look at me. I’m macho man. We don’t talk about stuff like that. It screws with our hotness. Cramping and diarrhea aren’t on the checklist of ways to get laid.” He poked at his cottage cheese. “I think I’m getting old. My Uncle Baldy talks about this stuff, and he’s a hundred.”
“Jeez, Morelli, you have a house and a dog and a toaster. I thought you were past the Italian Stallion thing. I thought you had some level of maturity.”
“There’s a difference between having maturity and being mature. I’m not ready to be mature. I don’t want to see the AARP magazine in my mailbox.”
Morelli’s phone buzzed with a text message. “I have to go,” he said. “They want me back at the fraternity.”
“You didn’t have anything to eat. Do you want half my sandwich?”
“Thanks, but I’m supposed to be off gluten. I can’t eat bread.”
“Pizza?”
“Dead to me.”
“Birthday cake?”
“Gone from my life.”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
I finished my lunch and headed for home. Morelli had always seemed invincible to me. He waded through crap every day and it all washed off in the shower. Even as a kid he was constantly getting into trouble and landing on his feet. He broke his leg and he was fine. He was shot and he was fine. Never defeated. And now he was the victim of cramping and diarrhea and he wasn’t sounding good. It was so atypical for Morelli that it was hard for me to wrap my head around it.
•••
I was still thinking about Morelli when I got to my apartment building. Maybe he was right to reach the conclusion that the stress of the job had finally gotten to him. And having a Calamity Jane girlfriend added to the stress. So he was cutting us out of his life. I guess I couldn’t blame him. I might do the same. Not sure I’d want a relationship with someone who gave me cramps.
I parked, took the elevator to the second floor, and found a man sitting in front of my door. He jumped up when he saw me. Excited. All smiley. Not a big guy. Maybe five five. In his thirties. Thinning sandy blond hair. Looked like he never spent a day in the sun. Dress slacks and a blue dress shirt tucked in. Red suspenders.
“Gina Bigelow!” he said. “I’d know you anywhere. We finally meet.”
Just when you think your day can’t possibly get any more bizarre…it does.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Kenny.”
He reached out for me. “Do I dare kiss you hello?”
“No. If you take one step closer I’ll zap you with my stun gun.”
“Hah. I knew you’d be a great kidder.”
“There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not the person you’ve been talking to online. Do you know what it means to be catfished?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’ve been catfished. Someone used my picture without my permission.”
“That’s terrible.” He thought about it for a beat and got all smiley again. “It doesn’t matter. Here you are and here I am and it’s perfect. It was meant to be. It was fate that brought us together.”
“It wasn’t fate. It was my grandmother. I’m sorry for your inconvenience but you’re going to have to leave. I have things to do.”
“What sort of things?”