Blind Date

An off-kilter love story.

It was April, after Darren and Andrea both decided they were emotionally ready to start dating again, and they had sat down for coffee and croissants. Darren was always wary of the first moments of a blind date, the required social niceties, the social niceties that the other person may or may not consider to be required, the few seconds in which he needed to determine whether she did. But his salutations lined up very well with hers, and they were both looking over the menu soon enough.

They talked about their jobs in the Regers building, where they both worked for different companies on different floors, though of course it was far too early to broach the subject of where they were that day last March. Darren eventually found himself astounded by how quickly his tension had dissipated, and how well it was going, almost as if Phil had precognition of how suited the two of them were for each other. . .

#

It was May, and Darren was walking alongside Andrea in the park, not necessarily to or from anything notable since being together was all that was needed. Their fingers were intertwined, which is where both would agree they belonged.

However much in shambles Darren may have thought his life was when he awakened from the coma, he had to admit it improved at a rate he could never have predicted because of Andrea. Their tribulations caused by Thomas Cole were gradually becoming a thing of the past. . .

#

It was June, and Darren rolled over an equally exhausted Andrea, the both of them catching their breath in unison, their fingers once again intertwined. Not even at the peak of his virility did Darren feel so satisfied, so in harmony with his lover.

It was eerie how in sync they both were. The fact that they were the only two to fall into a coma after the attack was the most glaring illustration of this, though of course neither of them liked to dwell on that. They much preferred to focus on moments like this one, and sweep away such odd coincidences and anomalies to the far reaches of their subconscious.

It was never that good for me before, Andrea said. Never. . .

#

It was July, and Darren was cleaning out his cubicle after having been promoted to a window office, one that wasn’t damaged in any way during the attack. It was true what they said, he thought. People start earning more when they find a reason to work harder and thus earn more, such as providing for a loved one. And, perhaps in due time, a family. It was of course far too early to consider such things, he knew, but given how things had been going with Andrea, who was to say?

His mind drifted aimlessly over thoughts of an engagement ring adorning intertwined fingers when he inadvertently brushed a memo off his desk, which then swayed back and forth before tucking itself under a filing cabinet. Have to keep everything spotless for the next guy, he thought, and got down on his knees and tilted the cabinet upwards with the heel of his palm.

But when he quickly swept the area underneath with his other hand, two articles were retrieved. Aside from the memo, there was a group photograph of the company taken during a party. A Christmas party, and as Darren could tell from the presence of some recent hires, the one that must have occurred when he was still in the coma.

Except he clearly wasn’t in any coma at the time the picture was taken. He was right there among the smiling faces. And Andrea was right next to him. . .

#

It was August, and Darren had finally decided to ask Phil about the picture. Darren cornered him when he was having his usual mid-morning coffee in the break room.

Phil took a moment to register what he was seeing and why Darren was confronting him about it. But as soon as he did, his face fell.

S**t, he grumbled. I was so sure we’d gotten rid of all the evidence.

What the hell are you talking about, Darren asked.

Phil held his face in his hands while struggling to think of what thing to say first.

That thing eventually turned out to be, you’ve been misled. You weren’t in a coma. Not from the attack, anyway. But it was your idea.

My idea to what? Darren asked as calmly as he could, frustrated at the pace at which he was getting answers.

It was your idea to get a fresh start with Andrea, Phil said. It was obvious you two were meant for each other. But you actually met the day of the attack.

After the fire alarm went off, you went for the stairwell with the rest of us. You were on Andrea’s floor when there were shouts about explosions and gunfire, and Thomas Cole. We all ran to the nearest door, and you ended up hiding with Andrea under her desk. And that was how you two met.

So what was my idea? Darren practically shouted.

Both your and Andrea’s idea, Phil said, was to get your memories wiped of the attack and the time you spent together and fabricate a story about the both of you being in a coma. And all of us here were in on it. So were your friends, families, what have you. And the doctors.

But--

Oh for s**t’s sake, Darren, are you actually about to ask why? Think about it. All the time you and Andrea would be together--which you and she and everyone else here hoped would be for the rest of your lives--you’d know, deep down, that you had Thomas Cole to thank for it. That if he hadn’t gone postal and went to the Regers building with a semi-automatic pistol and a bunch of nail bombs hanging off his belt, you and Andrea would likely have never met.

Imagine your wedding day, and someone feels compelled to make a toast to Thomas Cole for making all this possible. Imagine thinking every now and then if Andrea sometimes wonders whether the nine people killed that day were a reasonable sacrifice for her current happiness. . .

#

It was April, and Derek and Angela had just sat down for bubble tea. As far as they knew, those had always been their names, and they had both awakened in a hospital bed two months ago with a bout of amnesia after a boating accident. They both had relatively new office jobs, after moving to the other side of the country with no neighbors around who could provide them with any more information about their history. All they knew was, all their friends and family back home were insistent that the two of them go out and get to know each other sometime.

If something is worth doing, they had thought while in a situation they didn’t remember being in, it is worth doing right.