"What's new with you?" she asked.
"Oh, you know—rejection and solitude." Alison's face flashed before him; he apologized silently.
"Why don't I believe you?" Mo asked.
"It's chromosomal; you can't help it. Anyway, I was rejected. By Manoa. They didn't like my poem. They didn't even say they didn't like it, just sent it back."
"Builds character," Mo said.
"Listen, Mo, now that you feel sorry for me, how about dinner next week? An old friend of mine is coming with his new lady; I think it would be a good time."
"Hmmm . . . what day? I'm free Thursday and Friday."
"Good, they're coming Thursday."
"Fine," Mo said. "Give me a call. If I'm out, leave a message telling me where to meet you."
"Will do."