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Ruthie and I do not get along. When she was a little kid—a toddler, for fuck’s sake—she used to pretend she was a dog so she’d have an excuse to bite me. The years haven’t improved things between us. She’s the kind of woman who excels in driving people crazy, and she seems to have a special interest in driving me crazy.
I’m glad you’ve realized you’re a rat, I hear Ruthie telling me. Her voice likes to pop into my head now and then to let me know when I’m being a tool.
Shouldn’t it be enough for me to be Izzy’s mother? There are other moms at her kindergarten who send their kids in with charcuterie lunch boards accompanied by homemade pickles and bread. Moms who volunteer every time a message goes out over ParentSquare and walk their kids to school without looking like they’re on the verge of having a stress-induced heart attack at twenty-eight. Maybe I could be that kind of a mother if I tried hard enough. Maybe being that kind of mom would be enough to satisfy me.
That I’ll live a small life, barely noticed by anyone except for my brother and my daughter. That I’ll die alone, and not just in the cosmic sense that we all die alone. That I’ll never fall in love with a man who loves me back.
There’s no denying part of me would really like to know what he looks like under all those layers of expensive fabric. You could probably bounce a quarter off of his abs, and part of me would like to try, for the pure pleasure of throwing something at him.
back-peddled so quickly he could have won a cycling contest.
a boy who had the emotional integrity of a box of cereal.
My brain is always throwing out ideas like it’s a shirt cannon at a sports game—usually at exactly the wrong time,
Time has a habit of slipping away, so much so that I have an alarm on my phone to remind myself of when I have to leave to pick up Izzy.
It’s these dark spots inside of me, these caverns I’ve tried to fill with different things. With Vanny. With Eden and Tank. With men who don’t love me.
If you’re not growing, you’re withering, and I don’t want to sit at home doing nothing, letting depression seep in and try to tug me down.
But it’s undeniably strange, and I dislike things I can neither understand nor predict. It’s in those zones of uncertainty that bad things happen.
“Ruthie, who would have thought I’d marry the little brat who used to follow me around pretending she was a dog? For a while there, I thought I was going to have to report you for stalking, but you made me come around eventually, huh? I used to think you were the last woman I’d ever marry, but you’ve made me realize personality isn’t everything. I guess there’s something to be said for persistence.”
“Oh, Shane. You do have an excellent memory. Do you remember the time you and my brother got drunk on my parent’s stash, and you peed in the coat closet? I put up that sign saying ‘Not a Bathroom’ to help you avoid making that little mistake again. That’s what a married couple should do—find little ways to help each other. I pledge to keep you from pissing in coat closets for the rest of this marriage.”
my imagination never stops to consider things like weather. It’s a curse, having plenty of ideas but not being any good at executing them.
I’ve always been reluctantly attracted to him, but that kiss made it ten times worse. No, not just the kiss. It was hearing him ask if I wanted to see him on his knees before me. I do.
This game we’re playing may only exist in my head, but I enjoy dominating in it.
My voice is quavering with rage, so I take a deep breath and stuff it down. I need my poker face. I need to be the cool, collected lawyer who stares down witnesses—the one who doesn’t appear to have any emotions other than the drive for justice. I don’t need to be the lawyer who secretly pukes in the bathroom before every closing statement because the pressure is too much.
I told her that if she really is my grandmother I don’t like her very much. She was really mean to Uncle Danny and to Mom.”
Were you scared?” She gives me a look meant to level. “No, don’t be silly. She’s a little old woman. I’ll bet she couldn’t even arm wrestle me.”
Ruthie’s mischievous grin makes me smile, and Izzy looks overjoyed. But it’s the look in my own eyes that’s a bit disarming. I look satisfied. Happy. Nothing at all like a man whose arm has been twisted into wearing a unicorn crown.
“Why would staying with Danny make me the slightest bit safer?” “He has an alarm system,” I say. “And an attack hamster.”
You’re so far up your own ass you’ve nearly made it to your trachea.
I’ve spent years trying to ignore the way my body reacts to Ruthie, but I haven’t succeeded. I’ve memorized this maddening woman in bits and pieces, a flash of flesh here, a brush of the hand, a scent captured and remembered. All those stolen pieces are coming together now, forming a map that’s still incomplete. I want to complete it—to be an explorer and to form a map so thorough future generations will marvel at my genius, but no one will be allowed to see that map except for me.
I’ve never been more turned on in my life. All this time, I’ve been attracted to him, however unwillingly, and despite my little game, I had no idea he wanted me this much. It’s surprising, exciting, and a little terrifying too.
His lips are as confident as the words that come out of them, and they make me feel like I’m melting into a puddle.
a soft kiss from a hard man, and I feel it all the way down to my toes, the tingle coursing through me and reminding me how good he feels, how unexpectedly right.
it’ll be with us just the same after it closes, because the important things aren’t enclosed by brick and mortar, my girl.”
Even though Shane is the person who made me question myself and my approach to the bookmobile, I’ve realized I needed to question myself. I was throwing my efforts at a wall, waiting for it to break, rather than trying to build a door. He opened my eyes, even if I didn’t like hearing what he had to say or how he chose to say it.
I don’t know how to let it mean something. My whole life has been about making goals and reaching them. My goal this year was to get this job I don’t want, then use it as a scaffolding to find a more satisfying position. In no way does pursuing my best friend’s sister for real fit into that plan. But she’s not just my best friend’s sister anymore. She’s my wife.
I know, with a sense of clarity that hurts, that I’ve truly fucked myself over this time. I won’t ever stop wanting her.
“You’re one of the bravest people I know. Brave people feel fear, Ruthie. Don’t think they don’t. Only a dumb person is never afraid. Fear can be useful. Fear can drive people to do great things.”
“Everyone wanted to talk about him at first, Ruthie. They talked about what a good man he was. How much people loved him. But he lived a quiet life. They stopped coming after a few months. It didn’t take them long to forget about him. They moved on. Forty-eight years on this earth, and in the end, what did it matter? His own brother didn’t come to his funeral. The people who came cried and carried on and said it wasn’t fair, and the next day they were doing the same shit they’d always done, without a second thought for him. Like it didn’t matter. The only ones who remember are my mother and
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Relationships end. They all end. Even if both people choose to stay together, to fall in love with each other again and again as life changes them, they will fall apart eventually. It’s rare for people to die at the same time, unless it’s from an accident or natural disaster. So if a divorce or breakup doesn’t claim the relationship, death will. It’ll end badly for someone.
“You said I was your little devil, but you’ve been my conscience. Pointing out whenever I fall short, which I know I do. A lot. So maybe a part of me needed you there, in my mother’s home, where I feel like I’ve fallen short most of all.”
Because I have to admit something to myself, even if I’m not ready to tell anyone else. I want to believe there’s a chance I can have it all for real.
A month ago, I would have sworn up and down that Ruthie Traeger was the most irritating woman alive. I would have almost meant it. But even then, her voice was a part of me. My conscience. My guiding light.
“But maybe there are things that happen to us that we can never fully accept or process. Things that defy the mind.
Because my mother had become a single mother unexpectedly, and if more people had helped her, she might be doing better now.
I laugh. I can’t help it. It’s nervous and loud, and this is mine too—the ability to laugh when all life gives you is lemons, and you don’t have any sugar but the kind that comes from appreciating the absurdity.
I don’t want to be a coward anymore. I want to be the woman I’ve been these last weeks, brave and hopeful.
Shane is giving my mother a look that rains fire. “You’d better watch how you to speak to my wife.”
I love her, I love her so fucking much, but I can’t bring myself to say it. Because love is a weakness. Love is a curse. And I always lose the things I love.
but I’ve come to realize she’s just a thorny person. A thorny person with a kind heart.
Haven’t you heard that proverb about letting something go if you love it?” “That’s just plain dumb,” she says with a sniff. “If you love something, you hold on tight.”
