The Soulmate Equation
Jess barked out a nervous laugh. “Right.”
“It occurred to me,” he began, and then turned his face up to the ceiling. “When Esther Lin asked us about, you know, matching with someone else …”
Jess waited for him to finish, her heart beating like a racer’s at the starting line.
“Were you married to Juno’s dad?” he finally asked.
She exhaled. “No.” There was a long pause where it felt like he wanted more, but they were standing in a hallway at a party, and she just honestly didn’t know how much more there was to say about her and Alec. In hindsight, their footing had never been solid. The pregnancy hadn’t ended things; it had just sped the demise along. “He’s not in the picture,” she finished, eventually. “He never really has been. We broke up before Juno was born.”
She could see his curiosity visibly sated. They turned and started walking leisurely back down the hall toward the party.
“You mentioned you’ve always lived near your grandparents. Did your parents pass, or—?”
“My mom struggled with addiction—still does—and relinquished custody of me when I was six. I never knew my father.”
“Oh.” He stopped walking and turned to her, eyes wide. “Wow.”
The pain in his expression seemed genuine. Jess nodded slowly, unsure where to look. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Jess.”
“No, really, Nana Jo and Pops are the best people I’ve ever known. I knew from a really young age that I was better off.”
“They sound amazing.”
She suddenly felt naked. Here she was, her ex-boyfriend didn’t even want to raise a kid with her, mother chose drugs over her, raised by grandparents and still living with them. River had two sisters who adored him so much they helped him figure out how to dress to reach his full hotness potential.
“What is that expression?” he asked, leaning in. “What did I say?”
Jess was made uneasy by how quickly he read her. A panic she didn’t completely understand rose in her throat, making her want to look for an exit. This party was the kind of thing that happened to the heroine of the story, not the best friend. What was she doing here?
Humor, as usual, was her best defense. “Just imagining how from your perspective your Diamond Match has a truckload of baggage.”
He didn’t laugh. “Don’t we all?”
Her smile faded. “Do we?”
“We do. But come on. I know you well enough to know that you’re not carrying baggage.” He was holding her gaze, and she felt physically unable to look away. “You’ve chosen your circumstances, Jess. I like that about you. You take what you want and leave the rest behind. You decide.”
He was right. She felt herself stand up straighter, lean toward him.
“There you are!” a voice called out. “River, come on down here, and bring that young lady of yours.”
Still holding her eyes, he fought a smile. “Is this young lady of mine ready for some more mingling?”
Jess laughed. “I’ve sufficiently recharged my battery, yes.”
Taking her hand, he led her back down the hall to the party, toward the tiny old man who’d called out his name. He had to be in his eighties, wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a well-worn black suit. Beside him was a woman with a thick braid of white hair around the crown of her head and makeup-free crepe-lined features. She was wearing a simple black dress with a lace collar and pearls. Somehow she was even smaller than her husband.
“How’d they convince you to come out?” River asked, grinning.
“Caroline leaned on Dorothy,” the man said in a thick German accent.
“And by ‘leaned on,’” Dorothy chimed in, “he means that Caroline promised me I’d get to see you.”
River bent to kiss her powder-soft cheek. “Johan, Dotty, this is my Jessica.”
My Jessica.
Her heart fell in a swoon, from her chest to her feet.
“Jess, Johan and Dotty Fuchs.”
She didn’t even have time to recover; both tiny octogenarians were coming toward her, each wanting an embrace.
She bent, hugging them in turn. “Hi. Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Fuchs.”
“Jess,” River said quietly, reverently, “Johan and Dotty were our very first Diamond Match. Their granddaughter brought them to us back in 2014, and she was right: they came through with a score of ninety-three. Our first score in the nineties.”
Dotty nodded, squeezing Johan’s arm. “We’ve been married since 1958. Sixty-three years.”
Jess wasn’t an emotional person by nature; she adored her daughter and grandparents to the stars and back, but she wasn’t one to cry at commercials and was the only person in her life who could listen to Adele’s “Someone Like You” without weeping. But the moment caught her like a hook, and she felt a swell of emotion rise, salty, in her throat.
Through this deep, sweeping emotional moment—as she struggled to balance reverence and enthusiasm—Jess noticed Johan’s outfit. He was wearing a blazer and dress pants, but beneath the coat was a T-shirt, not a dress shirt. On it was a benzene ring with iron atoms replacing the carbon, and beneath it the words FERROUS WHEEL.