“The force runs strong in this one,” Nick says.
Harper gestures wildly to us, the bag flapping around. “Plus, hello. Look at the two of you. I mean, really. It doesn’t actually take any intuition. We’ve had a pool betting on when it would happen.” She leans in to whisper to her husband. “I won. Pay up, sweetie pie. Pay up.”
Nick scoffs but pretends to hand over some money to his wife, who then mimes pocketing it.
“He bet you two would become a couple a year ago,” Harper continues. “I said you were both too stubborn, so I predicted, hmm, right around now as the starting point. But does this mean you’ve finally, officially put us all out of the misery of watching you behave like, well, cats who chase each other into corners but then snuggle up at night?”
“I like cats. Can we get a cat too? I want to name our cat Calvin and Hobbes,” Carson chimes in. “And Malone can give him his shots.”
“We will definitely consider a kitty cat. But can he be Calvin and Hobbes McDoodle? Because that’s a fun name,” Harper says.
“That’s a super-fun name,” Carson says.
“Speaking of Malone,” Harper says, shooting Truly and me one of those purposeful looks that women shoot from their eyes like laser beams. “You know what to do, and like I said the other week, he probably suspects it anyway. He’s kind of smart like that, especially when it comes to, ahem, cat behavior.”
I heave a sigh. “He is. And message received. You guys are probably right.”
“Of course we’re right,” Nick says. “But listen, are you coming to softball practice? Because we’re on our way to the park. My woman and my kids are going to watch me hit home runs because I’m awesome like that.”
“And humble too,” Harper adds, squeezing his arm.
“Yes, I’ll be there shortly,” I say.
They take off, daughter holding her father’s hand, son holding mom’s, while they stroll up the streets of New York on a summer day.
I turn to Truly, the Saturday morning crowds scurrying by. “He’s right.”
“I know.”
“Why don’t we try to talk to your brother later today? I know we haven’t entirely sorted out what this is, but I also think we both know it’s not stopping, and we ought to be honest with him.”
“Because of that whole ‘crazy for you’ thing?”
I smile. “Yes, because of that little part. I’ll invite him to lunch. And we’ll go together.”
But later that morning after we parted, a message from Truly arrives, asking me to meet her first.
43
From: Darren Whitcomb
To: Truly Goodman
Re: Your Proposal
Dear Ms. Goodman,
Thank you so much for the thoughtful and well-researched presentation. It’s clear you devoted a lot of time and insight to your proposal. I wholeheartedly believe your new pub concept will be a tremendous success.
That said, my partners aren’t ready to move forward yet, but we’ll be in touch down the road. Thank you again, and we wish you success in all your endeavors.
All the best,
Darren
From: MixologistExtraordinaire at gmail
To: MixologistExtraordinaire at gmail
Re: Disappointments
Dear Truly “Don’t Let This Get You Down” Goodman,
This is the e-mail I will save. This is what I want to remember. How it feels to try something different.
Because today goes like this:
After I cry pathetic rainfalls of tears that I collect in buckets of misery, I consider calling my brother. Then Charlotte.
They’ve always been my people. They’re the ones I’d turn to.
But it’s a Sunday morning, and Charlotte is with her kids and hubby. My brother is likely busy with Sloane.
I wipe my tears, wash my face, and draw a deep breath.
I review the facts.
