Lucie laughs again and I make my decision. She’s going on a date with this guy. This guy with the questionable jokes and the affinity for Shania Twain and the name that starts with an O that I’ve already forgotten again. He might be an idiot, but he makes her smile. And Lucie deserves someone who will make her smile. Not a grumpy asshole who makes that smile disappear. I told her I’d find her a date. This is her date. “Oswald,” I ask, “what does your week look like?”
