Page 65 of Desserts for Stressed People

Fair enough. My turn.

As the hobbits meet Aragorn for the first time, my phone vibrates again.

Shane:

Most of the people I work with hate me. They call me Mr. Asshole. #AndTheyAreRight

After a glance at my screen, I gasp. This is the first time that Mr. Asshole and Shane-the-baker’s lives intersect, and it makes my chest tighten.

I wish I could tell him they don’t hate him. They fear him, but they also know he’s great at what he does. If he only stopped barking orders and actually made an effort, his employees would one hundred percent love him. But I guess it’s my turn, so I focus on the TV and choose a piece of self-deprecating information to share with him.

Nevaeh:

I haven’t been happy in years.

Shane:

Why not?

I click my tongue.

Nevaeh:

I might need to check the rules of this game...

Shane:

I’ll find them while you type out the answer. They’re in one of these drawers, it won’t take more than a minute.

I chuckle, hesitating for a second before typing.

Nevaeh:

Because I settled. I decided what I had was enough and didn’t look for anything better. Turns out it was not enough.

I lie on the couch and gaze at the ceiling, waiting for his answer. When my phone vibrates, I expect him to ask more questions. He doesn’t.

Shane:

My dad was shit to my mom, and we have a horrible relationship. I can barely stand to see him, so...no family dinners for me, I’m afraid.

Nevaeh:

Are they still together?

Shane:

Yes. She never left him, which is part of the reason things are tense. If they had broken up when their love died out, we’d probably have a different relationship.

Can I ask him more about it? I don’t know if it’s part of the rules I never got to learn, nor do I want to upset him with a sensitive topic. Shaking my head, I think of how I can contribute. Nothing comes to mind.

Shane:

This has taken quite a depressive turn. Let me fix that. Once, my mom had to pick me up and bring me home from elementary school because I soiled myself. She made me lie on my back so I wouldn’t dirty the car seats. #MrDirtyPants

It’s good that I’m not drinking water anymore, or it would come out of my nose. Laughter shakes me until I’m almost rolling off the couch, and now I wish I could ask for further details, but it’s my turn to humiliate myself, and I have a perfect one.

Nevaeh:

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