Tuesday was chicken sandwich day for Greta, and it was undisputedly the highlight of her very small world.
Greta was an actuary, a job that no one understood even after she explained it to them. She rented a cute little apartment which she rarely spent any time inhabiting, and she kept in contact with her few old friends through social media, which she scrolled during her nineteen-minute bus ride commute. Greta visited her parents on every major holiday for the obligatory meal before ducking out to get back to the office. She lived life as an adult. As a dependable, responsible, solitary adult.
All her coworkers, family and friends would say Greta did not have anyone special in her life, but they did not know about William. William ate a chicken sandwich every Tuesday while reading a book, and Greta adored him for it. His brown hair was short in the back, but he had a beautiful, full-bodied wave that dipped just above his right eye. His deep, dark eyes were mesmerizing.
“You should just go over and talk to him Greta.”
Greta looked up to see a woman with very fashionable designer sunglasses resting in her grey hair. Although the woman was dressed in a luxury suit, carried a purse so expensive that it really should be called the more enchanting name of handbag, and wore several carats of sparkles in her ears, she stood before Greta with a normal tray full of a large chicken sandwich meal with fries and a kind smile.
“I’m sorry?” Greta asked confused.
“May I share this table with you?” the woman asked, before sliding into the opposite seat without waiting for Greta’s response.
It was common practice in the busy city for loners to share their tables with other singles during the busy lunch rush, so Greta really could not refuse, but no one as glamorous as this woman had asked to sit with her before.
“Do I know you?” Greta asked.
“No, dear,” the woman said with another kind smile. “But just as you’ve been watching William over there, I have been watching you.”
Greta could not help but flinch, looking from the woman to William and back again.
“Watching… what?” she stuttered.
“There’s no shame in it,” the woman said, popping one of Greta’s well ketchupped fries into her mouth. “Public places are meant for people watching. It’s part of the social contract we accept along with our diet drinks.” The woman raised her drink, winked at Greta and took a long sip.
“How do you know my name?” Greta asked.
“How silly of me,” the woman replied, putting down her drink and pulling a business card out of her handbag.
Greta took the card and glanced down at the words: Driselle Channing, Wedding Planner Extraordinaire. The name did not ring a bell.
“Ms. Channing, do we know each other?”
“Driselle, please. You may not know me, Greta,” Driselle replied. “But I have come to know you very well over the last few months.”
“You have?” Greta whispered, worried that she was being stalked and glancing around briefly for the nearest exit.
“Don’t fret, dear,” Driselle said, laying a tanned, well-manicured hand on Greta’s pale one. “It’s nothing nefarious. I just like to people watch, and your obsession with that young gentleman over there has proved particularly amusing to observe.”
“I don’t have an obsession with William,” Greta blurted out defensively.
“And yet, you know his name,” Driselle said, flashing another satisfied smile and eating another of Greta’s fries. “I assume you learned it the same way I did.”
“I read it off his receipt,” the two women said simultaneously.
“On the way to the bathroom,” Driselle said with a wink.
Greta blushed and bit her lip to stifle a smile. She might be a bit overwhelmed by Ms. Driselle Channing, but she was quickly beginning to like her.
“I’m telling you,” Driselle said, dumping out the rest of Greta’s fries onto the tray. “Just go over and talk with him. I’ve observed you both long enough to know you will be pleasantly rewarded for your courage.”
Greta blushed even deeper and leaned closer to her impromptu lunch companion. “What are you talking about?” she whispered. “I can’t just walk over to him. I don’t even know him.”
“I would think,” Driselle said, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “That after at least two months of staring at him every Tuesday, you know him well enough to ask to sit with him, just as I did you.”
Greta leaned back and groaned. “I can’t do it,” she admitted. “I have thought about it so many times. I have planned…”
“The dialogue in your head. I know,” Driselle said, nodding and continuing to eat Greta’s lunch while leaving her own untouched. “I’ve watched you get so close to his table that I swore you were finally going to do it before walking away. It’s so frustrating every time.”
“It is,” Greta admitted. She looked over at William again, longing to be brave, but she could not find the nerve within herself. She looked back at Driselle helplessly.
“What is it that holds you back?” Driselle asked, leaning in conspiratorially and scooting her chair around the side closer to Greta. “Are you on the rebound from a great love? Does he remind you of your long-lost first love? Is he the twin of your first husband? Is he currently dating your best friend? Is he your step-brother?”
“This isn’t a soap opera Driselle,” Greta said, scrunching up her nose.
“It is to a third-party observer,” Driselle said with a joyful laugh. “In fact, watching you every week and trying to figure out what is holding you back has been a better mystery than anything I’ve watched on TV in ages.”
“Ohhh,” Greta groaned, risking another glance at William just a few tables away still engrossed in his novel.
“Seriously, though, love, why not just go over there?” Driselle said.
“Because, William is special in this world. I can tell,” Greta said, unable to pull her eyes away from his dark brown ones, even if they were not looking at her. “And, I’m just… not.”
Driselle pushed Greta’s half-eaten tray of food aside and scooted even closer to Greta.
“Greta, can I tell you a secret?” Driselle whispered.
Greta nodded yes, unable to resist Driselle’s charismatic good nature.
“William is special in this world. You’re right,” Driselle said with a nod. “He’s special in this world for one big, important, take-over-the-world kind of reason.” Driselle paused.
“What’s the reason?” Greta whispered.
“Because you think he is,” Driselle said. “Which means that if you don’t go over to him and tell him how special he is, then he never will be.” Driselle put her arm around Greta, giving her a quick half-hug, and then she scooched back over to her side of the table.
Greta just stared at Driselle in shock.
“You two are perfect for each other,” Driselle said, beginning to gather up her tray. “I see a fifty-year marriage for sure. All you have to do is act. I guarantee you, he never will.”
Greta fumbled for words, still astounded that this entire conversation was taking place.
“Now, go get him,” Driselle said.
Without another word, Driselle picked up her handbag and crossed the room to the trashcan right next to William’s booth. Dumping her tray inside, she called out “Hello!” to him with a finger wave, but William did not even look up. She then turned back to Greta and mouthed “See!” Before floating out the door and into the crowded city street.
Greta watched Driselle disappear down the street before longingly turning back to look at William. Driselle was right. Greta should do it. She should just walk over to William and ask to sit at his table. Minutes passed and Greta did not move before finally shaking her head sadly.
“Another day,” Greta mumbled, beginning to gather up her purse. She had already eaten her meal, so it would be awkward to ask to sit with him today. Standing from the table, she picked up her tray and noticed something odd. Instead, of her picked-over food, she was holding a wrapped, uneaten sandwich and untouched fries. Greta glanced back to the street and realized why Driselle had been eating her fries. That kooky lady had planned this all along.
Smiling to herself, Greta bit her lip and took a deep breath. She marched across the room and stood in front of William’s table.
“Excuse me,” she said before she could lose her nerve. “May I sit here?”
Then, as William looked past his book to see Greta, she pulled the same move as Driselle and slid into the seat across from him without waiting for a reply.
“Hi, my name’s Greta,” she said boldly. “And I’d love to hear about that book you’re reading.”
Greta watched as William glanced around the room, probably looking for the nearest exit, before he settled his deep brown eyes on her and slowly smiled.
“I’m William,” he replied.