Love versus The Spreadsheet

Neal rose to see Felicia's frozen face in a ghostly pallor from the grid's glow. He finally pressed the remote to blank the screen.

There was enough ambient light for her to turn his way and see him. Her voice cracked. "Who's winning, Neal? What's the final score?"

"This is, just, it's," he babbled. "It's not what you think!"

"Oh? What is it, then?"

"It's like, back when men had little black books. A guy put all his information about women in one place. Men have always done this, so they could--"

"I'm going home," she said, and turned towards the bedroom.

He said, "Is there--"

"NO!!"

***

Time scales between realities were fungible, for demigods. The next two weeks in the mortal realm could be glossed by the Olympians, who could later track back earlier when observing other mortals. Cupid and Psyche did this compression as a courtesy to Valentinus, who was convinced that Felicia and Neal were already apart for good. He saw no point in spending two weeks of his own time to confirm this.

The trio viewed several moments during those fourteen days, but at the Olympians' urging, took no actions. They saw Neal learning that Felicia had blocked his number. They saw Felicia at work, not just bottling up her wit, but avoiding any contact unrelated to her job. and acting almost testy during the contacts she couldn't avoid. They saw Neal at a different bar, drinking alone, making no effort to connect with anyone.

A few scenes were brought into more detailed view. In a coffee room at an expensively furnished office, an exasperated Carter got in Neal's face. "What's wrong with you? That's two reports you've handed over late, and incomplete! Are you going to let some woman ruin your whole life? Snap out of it!"

Nine days after the date, Felicia awoke after the first night in which she had not cried, even once. Yet as she went about her morning routine, she looked and acted like she hadn't improved at all.

During a respite, Valentinus's displeasure broke through. Glowering at Cupid, he said, "Is it all physical with you? These arrows of yours, suddenly shocking the target's senses. You drive excitement and passion, more than deep feeling. The love I seek to bring is not always about sex, and I try to make it eternal. So many of your matches eventually end!"

"We of the Great Beyond value the eternal," said Cupid, "but mortals must attend to their own time spans. One of a human's multitudes, good at one time, may have to be replaced by another, when times have changed. The suddenness of which you speak, such as love at first sight, lifts a mortal's life above mere existence. Nearly always, this is a benefit for those whose lives...have end points."

Psyche, eyeing them both, said, "Perhaps you should agree to disagree."

Valentinus remembered that he was away from home, where his rules held sway. "So be it," he grumbled, turning away.

In the trio's next observation, they witnessed the moment when a cart, moving between cubicles, stopped next to Felicia's. The mail room clerk said, "Something different," while dropping a stack on Felicia's desk.

The item on top was a personal letter, in a handwritten envelope.

She barely read the letter, beyond getting the gist that he asked her to meet him for coffee.

She didn't tear it up.

Psyche helped her notice Neal's effort to contact her, after she had cut off so many avenues.

With a wit she no longer shared with others, Felicia decided that she hadn't risen far enough from the bottom, for yet another plunge to hurt much.

She still had to talk herself into going through with this, hoping it might give her closure.

She enabled his work email address. She tersely stated a date, a time, and the address of a mermaid-cup place. She sent the message. Then she again disabled his address.

***

"What do you want from me?" said Felicia quietly, one hand gripping the rim of the high-top, to steady the rest of her. "Hasn't the rest of your harem satisfied you?"

"Go ahead," he said, looking away. "Get it out of your system. Then, please, tell me when we can talk, for real."

To Felicia, he seemed to be a new kind of different. Even this surliness seemed more engaged than Neal in cool mode. But she didn't dare believe that there was an upside to the way things were now.

"No," she said, "you go ahead. Talk for real."

He rolled the coffee cup between his hands, slowly. Then his eyes met hers. "Look, I'm a selfish bastard. I'm all about getting what I want. What I want now, more than anything else, is you. But I've learned something. In your case, what I want doesn't count for much. If you don't want me, I'm sunk."

"I don't understand this," she said. "Why me? If you really feel this way, how did it happen?"

"No clue. I saw you in the bar, and you were different. So maybe...what's the expression?...oh yeah, scales fell from my eyes."

She realized that he could have made that sound like a come-on. He hadn't done that.

She nodded, lips clamped tight. Then she said, "I was different then. But I was still me. I just hadn't acted like that in public since...ever? Maybe as a kid."

He drew a breath, and said. "Is there anything I can do...so you'd feel better? Or, even, believe what I say?"

Her brain churned. She was terrified. She should just leave, crawl back into her old shell, hope she'd forget all this, maybe heal someday.

She looked out the window, and focused on a stoplight, so she wouldn't see this guy, a guy she couldn't stop wanting, irrationally, unavoidably.

"I need," she said, "to see you, with your spreadsheet."

After a few heartbeats for each of them, he said, "Really? Why?"

Sharply she said, "Humor me!"

***

Felicia faced the flatscreen. "Turn it on."

Without a word, Neal picked up the remote, and worked it until the spreadsheet filled the screen.

As determined as she was, Felicia's knees shook as she saw it. She looked at Neal, who was watching her closely.

She asked, "What are you going to do with this?"

After a pause, he said, "You're smart. If I put on an act about deleting it, you'd suspect that I have it saved somewhere else."

"What do you think of these women?"

"That I can get what I want from them."

"What do you think of me?"

He took a breath. "That's different now."

She pointed at the flatscreen. "I'm still there."

Loudly, "Because I haven't done anything with it! It's been closed since you walked out on me!"

That ended as a wail.

They were both stunned by his response. What it said about his hurt, and her self-esteem.

Felicia was no longer terrified. She was now calm.

Psyche told her colleagues, "I didn't do anything."

Valentinus said, "It's because the male is helpless, and now the female knows it."

"Perhaps," said Cupid, brow furrowed.

Fighting down a smile, Felicia brought out her phone, and fingered it.

"What are you doing?" asked Neal.

"Unblocking you."

He blinked. "So...I can--"

"If you call me tomorrow, I'll pick up. Thanks, I can go now."

He gestured the remote at the flatscreen. "What about--this?"

"Keep it," she said. "If you look at all of them, and still think about me, I'll know that the selfish bastard may be someone I can deal with."

***

"The likelihood that Felicia and Neal will be together and happy, for at least six years, is eighty-seven percent," said Cupid grandly as he poured end-of-project nectar into four vessels.

Psyche smiled. "My colleague here is no more fond of taking chances than Neal. Perhaps he should admit that he contacted the oracle at Delphi."

"Yes, well," said Cupid, now sheepish. "It always helps to know the probabilities. My offering to the oracle was within the project budget."

"They're moving in the direction of love," Valentinus conceded, "but the love may have too many flaws to be lifelong."

"That's because of their multitudes," said Cupid. "Each might choose to diverge from the other."

Terpsichore took two vessels from Cupid, and handed one to Valentinus. "As you and I must diverge, after one more evening of sweetness."

Valentinus smiled. "I would welcome you to visit my home."

Terpsichore asked Psyche, "How was your visit there?"

After taking a moment, Psyche said, "You may find that your dance there would be, ahem, ethereal."

Terpsichore touched her vessel to Valentinus's, and said, "Let's enjoy tonight."

Psyche sipped from her vessel, then said, "As Neal ignores the spreadsheet, the women on it will no longer have him in their lives. That may be good for them in the long term, but their low self-esteem will make it difficult for them to recover."

"Leave them to me," said Valentinus. "Self-esteem can be raised by some new examples of regard from others. When certain shy men, like that Harold person, see that these women are forlorn--and alone--the men will find the gumption to offer their hearts. In some cases, the results will be good for both, and lasting."

"That's the most we can ever hope for," said Cupid. He raised his vessel in salute to Valentinus. "There is great value in your work for that."

Valentinus returned the gesture. "And in yours, even if sudden passion is only momentary. Mortal lives can indeed be harsh without it."

"True," said Psyche. "Before lovers can face the morning, they must help each other get through the night."