Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Relax, Carter. The best thing you can do in these situations is to acknowledge them. You did that already with Rachel. It defuses the awkwardness. If it’s still weighing on you tonight at her party, just make a joke, have a laugh, then move on for her sake. She’s probably way more embarrassed than you are. And then, focus on all the reasons you like being friends with her.”
That’s brilliant. I smack the counter like I’m nailing an answer on a quiz show. “She was my jigsaw puzzle club partner in high school,” I point out excitedly. “We could start a jigsaw puzzle club again. That’ll be friendship vibes for sure.”
“Great. Maybe get her a puzzle before the party,” he says, then checks his watch. “My first client will be here soon. I need to go dispense paid wisdom.”
I point at the gleaming silver espresso machine. “Oh, I paid for that wisdom.”
“True,” he says with a smirk, then pushes back from the stool, standing. “But here’s some free advice for you. Try a Georgia O’Keeffe puzzle.”
I make a mental note as I put the spoons away. “New puzzle brand?”
“Yes, Carter. I keep up on puzzle brands,” he says dryly. Then he leaves for his office in the townhome next to mine.
I swivel away from the open drawer. I’ll finish putting these dishes away in twenty seconds. Just need to know more about this puzzle maker. Grabbing my phone from the counter, I google Georgia O’Keeffe.
Fucking Monroe.
She’s that artist who painted flowers that look like vaginas.
The downside of a neighbor who’s a therapist is there’s someone right next door to mock you.
I click over to my texts and fire one off.
Carter: Look for a delivery later. A book of Georgia O’Keeffe paintings. Think of it as a map. I know dinosaurs roamed the earth the last time you were up close and personal with a real one.
Monroe: Pot. Kettle.
Dammit. He’s too right.
But I still like the puzzle idea. I hop over to my to-do list and add Look for non-unicorn, non-Georgia O’Keeffe, non-pink puzzle.
Then, a new calendar item pops up. An invitation from Rachel. I open it. Water Jane, you badass plant daddy.
Damn, see inside my soul, woman.
I hit accept, grab the water bottle I’d forgotten about, and feed Jane. When I’m done, I head to the bathroom. As I brush my teeth, I pick up my day-of-the-week pill container to confirm what I suspect. Yup. I took it this morning right on time. I can’t take Adderall since it’s a banned substance in pro football, but I’ve been taking non-stimulant meds for years.
They help.
Mostly.
I’m sure Quinn would say they don’t, but whatever. She might not have liked that I was late now and then to pick her up for dates, but I’m not the one who ran off to join the circus after saying yes to a marriage proposal. A few weeks after posting her look at my ring pics, she skipped out of here with her diamond, leaving only a goodbye text that said Got a gig with Cirque du Soleil! Maybe we can date another time.
So, maybe the demise wasn’t about my occasional tardiness.
Still, I know what I was like without these, and I didn’t enjoy myself then. The meds don’t solve everything, but they make it easier for me to be present at most everyday moments.
Like this party tonight, when I will be all friendship all the time with Rachel. And, as Monroe suggested, I’ll try to find a moment to joke about yesterday.
After brushing my teeth, I take off to pick up our kicker on the way to practice. Thank fuck for the game. Football is one of the few times everything goes quiet and comes into focus. My brain settles down on the field and knows its place—working in synchronicity with my body. Another thing happens, too, when I play ball. Time makes perfect sense. The clock is my friend, not my enemy. When I play football, I can feel the passing of every single second and experience every glorious moment.
The sport is a little like magic.
And, after the last twenty-four hours, I’m craving the tricks football plays on my mind.
4
AND THE DRESS CODE TONIGHT IS…
Rachel
I should call it off.
I’m not a throw-myself-a-party person. It’s a little self-indulgent.
I’m pacing behind the counter of my jewelry shop on Friday evening, seriously weighing my decision to let Juliet talk me into this fête. It’s just me here, handling the shop solo since I sent Fable home early to work on her own jewelry designs.
Alone with my thoughts, I’m second-guessing tonight big time. Is an extravagant party really the best way to start over? Maybe I should stay home and find a new recipe to tinker with. I discovered a great new baking blog earlier this week. I bet there are all sorts of fun treats I can make. Maybe give out to my neighbors as I get to know them.