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Princeton shit and I realize we never even talked about his life. He’s been so evasive about what he does or wants to do. It’s like he’s more concerned about protecting and helping me—“Did you go to Princeton?”
    “Yes.”
    “Does your mom have cancer?” I face him, immediately feeling regret.
    “No. I mean, the doctors don’t really know.” He gets up from the bean bag and sits on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed and his head drooped. I move beside him and wrap my arms around his waist.
    “Talk to me. I’m your friend, remember?” Zach lifts his head and smiles at the little star resting on my neck.
    “My mom’s a doctor, conducting medical research for drugs. She actually started Parker and Parker and my dad was just the face of the company, the businessman that fronted the initial costs. Mom has worked in a lab at Mt. Sinai for twenty years, well up until September 11, 2001.
    “She was in the lab that day working on a new drug when the planes crashed into the towers. It was part of her oath to serve those in medical need and she selflessly spent thirty-three days at Ground Zero while my dad bunkered away in Greenwich, working from home and ignoring everyone around him.
    “I had just moved into my apartment and I offered my bed to Mom, but she refused. She camped out Downtown like a refugee, never abandoning the responders digging through the rubble. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mom put on gloves and started hauling away debris, it’s just in her nature. Around Christmas, she got a cold that eventually lead to pneumonia. I took her to specialists and a CT scan finally revealed the black masses swallowing up her lungs. It was assumed that she had lung cancer, but two rounds of chemotherapy did nothing but make her weak and hopeless. She’s on full-time oxygen and last week she started the morphine drip.” He starts to cry with the last few words, “it’s over.”
    My eyes swell into a watery mess and my heart beats erratically. I kiss him passionately, trying to swallow all his pain, if just for a moment. Zach pins me down on the bed and tears drop from his eyes. I drink their saltiness and inhale his hot breath, consuming all his repressed hurt. He’s wild and emotional, but I gather him in my arms and hold him. The child, the man, my best friend.

September 26, 2002
    “How are you managing with the Russell party? I swear, that family can be quite eccentric.” My new boss, Molly, is fanning herself with an ornate Chinese fan and pinning red fabric to a presentation board.
    “Yeah, they’ve changed the theme six times and now they want camels!”
    “Oh good lord! I’m so sorry. My best advice is to keep detailed notes and just go with it.”
    Today is my third day and I’m already knee-deep in shithole clients. I’m actually surprised Molly trusted me with planning an event with so little experience and an unrefined mouth. I thought I would just be here to answer phones and maybe do some PR work, but she’s a sweetheart from Nashville and seems to have a lot of faith in me . . . or she owes Zach a big favor.
    “I hope my instincts are enough. Do you need help with that presentation board?” I see Molly struggling with the fabric and offer her a helping hand.
    “How do you feel about fortune cookies? Do they even have those in China? The clients want Asian Elegance, but I’m stuck somewhere between 1940s Bangkok and P. F. Chang’s!” Molly smiles, but her eyes are wildly stressed.
    “I think fortune cookies could work. Maybe spray them gold and use them as place card holders?”
    “Um hum, there you go! See Natalie, you’ve got what it takes. How are things with Zach? Excuse my meddling ways, but I was raised by a church-gossiper.”
    “That’s okay Molly, I like to know juicy details as well. Let’s get back to Zach, what’s going on with you and that mysterious businessman?” Molly blushes and sits down at her desk.
    “Mr. Ross and I are just