Jenna’s gaze drifted slowly from the laptop computer screen on her dining room table, to the untouched toaster oven sitting on her counter. While she had never really believed in true love or some sort of higher power guiding her life, there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that there was something different about all of this. She hadn’t even really been sure what had spurred on her rash posting of a wanted ad on the internet, much less putting her heart out there for all to laugh at. Jenna was normally a practical girl--that was why she bought the toaster oven in the first place.

She had always thought it ridiculous that no one had ever been able to mount the toaster oven under her kitchen cabinets. Jenna had spent hours trying to put the thing up herself. She had reluctantly given it up, offering the chance to install the toaster oven to many people she knew. Her brother, her friends, and even her ex-boyfriend had unsuccessfully attempted wielding a screwdriver and placing the box firmly under her cabinets. She often found herself laughing at how ridiculous it was that it couldn’t be done. It wasn’t until a conversation with her best friend that Jenna had taken a different perspective on the vexing box.

“Perhaps you’re looking at this wrong.” She had said.

Perhaps indeed. Jenna was then forced to explain to her friend that she had tried every possible way she could think of to place the toaster oven in its rightful place in her kitchen. Days later, while she sipped coffee and contemplated selling the damned thing on eBay, she had a revelation. While usually not one to overanalyze things, something had to be done about the toaster oven, and her friend did say she was looking at it wrong. Suddenly, the toaster oven had become more than just a toaster oven, it was King Arthur’s sword, waiting to be pulled by the rightful king.

The idea of it was preposterous. Things like that didn’t happen in real life. Toaster ovens didn’t magically get installed by the right man. The idea was so ridiculous that Jenna had decided to post it anyway. It was extremely difficult for her to keep a straight face about it, but Jenna proceeded to type away at her keyboard, pecking out the words to attract her own personal King Arthur to save the day. While she had been cynical at the idea, somehow her own words rang true. What if true love did exist in something other than a story about princesses and kings? The idea of true love in itself was too much of a possibility to pass up. It was utterly ridiculous, and Jenna almost regretted it as soon as she had made the post. It was good for a laugh, but nothing more. She doubted that anyone would ever reply to the damned thing. In truth, it was more like she was afraid that someone would. Forty-eight hours later, she was sitting at her laptop, staring at the message on her screen. The idea of her posting the story of the toaster oven and her heart had been so crazy that it was amusing, but when she had received a reply--a serious reply--the situation caused a stirring in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn’t until the following Sunday that Jenna had gotten up the courage to arrange a meeting, but she couldn’t leave it well enough alone. Two o’clock rolled around, and with a gentle knocking at the door, Jenna realized there was no turning back. She was a little surprised at his promptness, though she smiled as she realized the fact that he had thought this was important enough to arrive on the hours spoke loads about his character to her. Timidly opening the door, he stepped in.

Will had just gotten home from another long day, returning home with tired feet and less money than he started out with. His life, at the moment, was little more than a sick joke. With no college degree, a run-down apartment with rent past-due, and a beat-up old station wagon, he felt like little more than a failure at everything. By all appearances, he was a worthless high-school drop out, or at least that was how the world would most likely judge the man. In reality, Will had the potential for so much more, but the world had denied it to him in that he had been born to a crack addict and an escaped convict. Most of his life had been spent in social services, and he had struggled his way through a tough childhood and high-school life to graduate with honors. If he had his choice of lives, he would have majored in history and become a professor or worked at a museum.

Instead, Will struggled just to keep food on the table for himself and the dog that had followed him home one day, the one he hadn’t the heart to throw out. He had managed to keep two jobs, one as an on-call plumber and one as a meter-reader for PG&E, but there were times that he wasn’t sure two jobs were enough. He had made the tough decision that day for groceries instead of rent, and he knew he’d probably be regretting it. At least his stomach wouldn’t be growling while his landlord was.

Switching on his computer, which was quite a few years out of date but still the most expensive thing in his apartment, he proceeded to try and cheer himself up by looking for a better job. After several pages of listings that all required college degrees and experience in the field, Will decided that it couldn’t hurt to just hire himself out as a handyman. He was certain that plenty of people had jobs he could easily handle, and if they saw how honest and intelligent Will was, he might just get lucky and get paid a twenty. He’d been browsing for about fifteen minutes before he clicked on something simply listed as “toaster oven”.

The ad itself was the first thing that day that made Will smile, which was a miracle in itself. He found himself sitting closer to the screen, right on the edge of his seat as he read the simple few paragraphs that the woman had written. The idea of it was ridiculous, but Will was interested. Will’s curiosity combined with the prospect that she just might pay him out of gratitude caused his fingers to fly across the keys as he typed out the message in response. Several days later, after he had nearly forgotten the incident, she replied, and a meeting was set up for later that day at 2. He arrived promptly, having shaved and showered as quickly as possible and then stared at the clock for a half hour until he was satisfied he could get there and not be so early as to seem overeager.

He knocked on the door, clearing his throat as he stared at the wood, unsure of what sort of reaction he would get from the other side. After a moment, the door opened, and he was greeted by a woman about his age with a look just as nervous as his own. They both laughed, and she invited him inside, leading him over to the kitchen. Jenna gestured to the toaster oven that sat on the counter, and Will responded by holding up his tool box, worn with years of use. Stepping back to let him work, Jenna watched as Will installed her toaster oven.