I Owe You One

by Sophie Kinsella

as if all the negative energy of her grief circled round into a determination that this wouldn’t destroy the business, or the family, or anything. She’s

I don’t know how many times a heart can be broken, but mine’s been shattered again and again, and every single time by Ryan Chalker.

know this is all displacement. I can’t even contemplate the momentousness of seeing Ryan again, so instead I’m fixating on an irrelevant detail which nobody else will even notice. Story of my life.

Displaced frustration by focusing on minutiae

The wry blade of humor is back in his voice—but as he puts his phone away, he stares out of the window as though trying to rebalance himself. It’s weird, but I feel like I know this guy. Like, I get him. If we weren’t two uptight British people in a London coffee shop, maybe I’d strike up conversation with him.

Mum is never knowingly under-tasked. Right now not only is she preparing cupcakes for her own birthday party, she’s simultaneously trying out a product for the shop. Mum would never stock a product unless she believed in it. So every pan, every food storage container, every fancy culinary gadget has to pass the Mum Test. Does it work? Is it good value? Will our customers actually use it?

Whenever Mum smiles, lines appear all over her face. They stretch like sunrays from her eyes; they score her cheeks and mark out her forehead in deep creases. Grief brought extra lines to her face. I saw it happen. And maybe some people think the lines are ugly, but I see love and life in every one of them.

“Don’t!” I want to wail. “Don’t show me pictures of Ryan’s girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend, or whatever she is!” But that would sound insecure, so I keep my mouth shut. I know Nicole isn’t trying to torment me; she just doesn’t think about other people much.

“Bob’s great,” I say. “But Mum’s in charge—” “Every organization needs a ‘Man of the House,’ ” Uncle Ned cuts me off. “A Man of the House,” he repeats, with weighty emphasis. “And since poor Mike left us…” He pats Mum’s hand. “You’ve coped marvelously, Joanne.”

And as I grab a beer out of the ice bucket, a giddy joy starts to infuse me. Miracles don’t come true; I know they don’t. But just this once—this magical one-off time—one did.

we’ve heard about L.A. is the glamour. The excitement. The celebrities. But now he’s telling me real stuff. Painful stuff. He doesn’t look like old Ryan; he looks battered. World-weary. Kind of like he’s had it.

The trouble is, I’m sorry doesn’t power anything. It drags you down. By the end, I could barely get my feet off the ice.

Silently, I put the photo back on the dresser. I’ve never mentioned that day to Jake. We’ve never revisited that conversation. Does he even know what an impact he had on me? Anyway. You move on.

She suffers in silence never resolving anything just because the asshole is a family member

We were just talking about moving in together. But now he’s sounding incredulous.

Failing to recognize him being a bum and flaky

As I hand Ryan his phone back, I smile as brightly as I can—but inside I’m kind of crushed. I mean, he’s right. Of course he’s right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Long term, it’s more sensible to take things slowly.

Trying to move too fast with an emotionally unavailable person just because he is familiar

He still wants to be with me. He didn’t see my mortifying texts.

He bought me flowers. Well, anyway.

5 reasons to dump his ass

Uncle Ned

Does everyone have an Uncle Ned?

think we can capitalize on this, but we need to stay on top of it. We need to follow all the TV cookery shows. Offer exactly the right equipment at the right time.

Once Jake and Nicole really look at the shop, really remember it, really think about it…surely they’ll understand. After all, we’re siblings. We’re Farrs. We’re family.

No these selfish egotist will not see jack

Have I been the biggest, stupidest fool in the world?

Well yes Fixie you have

(Maybe that’s what emojis were invented for in the first place, and I’ve just been using them wrong. They’re not there to convey thoughts in a fun way; they’re there to lie to your mum.)

“Nice skating,” she says, shooting me daggers. “Didn’t know you were such a pro.” And I know I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t…but I can’t help myself. “Yeah, well,” I say, and give Briony exactly the same pitying look that she gave me in the hospital. “I kind of think if you’re not going to do it properly, you shouldn’t even try?”

Yeah final well placed shade

I’ll never say that, but maybe I’m starting to see “family” differently. It’s not just the people you share genes with; it’s the people you share loyalty and friendship and respect with. It’s the people you love.

This is OK…but what else could I be doing?