Page 130 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

“Thank you,” I whisper, knowing I’m forgiven, knowing it’s possible, given this is Brody, he was never mad to begin with. I lean forward to give him a brief hug.

He pats me on the back. “Just don’t expect to call me next time your spleen explodes. You’re grounded from emergency calling privileges for at least . . . a day. Maybe seventy-two hours.”

“So basically I’m ungrounded as soon as I leave Hawaii.”

Brody lifts his shoulders up again. “I’m too lazy to hold a grudge—and lucky for me, so are you?” He reaches over and takes a mini tiramisu.

“What do you mean?”

Brody turns toward me. “The note I gave Lucas?”

It’s been three days since that happened, but as the Chinese saying goes, every day here feels . . . like a year.

“Did it break the NDA?”

Brody’s smile is slow and broad. It’s the same smile he always had when he was solving a particularly difficult problem and found the solution an instant before anyone else. It’s what Lucas calls his shit-eating grin.

“Wow.” He drags the word out, still with his trademark shit-eating grin. “Lucas didn’t show you the note.”

“Why would he show me the note?” I don’t say: Why would he need to? I don’t need Brody’s notes from our call.

I was there.

I made the call.

I saw it in Lucas’s wallet the night I pilfered (with permission) his credit card, but . . .

From the dance floor, Vi is using both of her arms to gesture Brody toward her.

“Thank you, Red.” Brody’s voice is quiet, his eyes already on Vi.

“You’re sure you’re okay with how this all ended?”

“Better than okay.” He finally turns toward me. The smile he gives me seems torn from him, something between a huff and a laugh. “Really and truly, so much better than okay.”

DJ XR announces, “And now, for the unwedding dance you’ve all been waiting for. Turns out the not-future Mr. and Mrs. Branca have taken lessons and are now ready to put on a show.”

Amidst the hooting and cheers, Brody turns toward me. “Go ask Lucas about the note.”

And then he goes to the stage and stands approximately ten feet away as the well-known strands of “The Time of My Life” come on; Brody positions himself to do the Dirty Dancing catch.

It goes perfectly.

It’s somehow both romantic and not.

The best unwedding I’ve ever witnessed: Two adults recognizing that they might be compatible, but . . . sometimes, that’s just not enough.

UNKNOWN: So am I still saved as UNKNOWN?

ME: who is this again?

UNKNOWN: I looked it up, by the way. It should say “Unknown,” “Unknown Caller,” or “No Caller ID.” For me to be saved as UNKNOWN, you went out of your way to capitalize it.

ME: don’t you have something better to do?

UNKNOWN: Not really.

UNKNOWN: I love how ridiculous you are.