Page 58 of The Happiness Blueprint
We haven’t celebrated anything in a long time. This pile gives me some sort of hope, though, that there is at least that one bit of chance that it will go our way, and sure, that won’t be anything to really celebrate: you’re still gone. But I think if this goes through, if we do this, I imagine there will be that feeling of achievement as well, and I may just want to take Dan, Mamma and Pappa out for a meal. Which would be some sort of celebrating.
A
Put my phone away, open the car door and grab my backpack. Those minutes in the car before getting out into the world are stillness. My escape. Sometimes, like today, they extend beyond a couple of minutes into half an hour.
Paul is outside my building with what looks like a farmers-market haul.
“I thought you said you finish at five?”
“Did I know you were coming?” I glance at my phone for a reminder or text.
“You’ve canceled on me twice. That means I need to check up on you to prevent it happening a third time. Okay?”
I’ve only just taken my boots off when there’s someone new at the door. Dan appears, and it does feel good to see his face. It has been ages.
“Dan? Did I know—”
“No, you didn’t. We were worried, okay?”
“Great. I’m alive and functioning, as you can see.”
“Functioning? You’re not a toaster. Anyway, I’ve ordered food. Hope you’re in the mood for Thai. Didn’t trust Paul to pick up the right ingredients to create something edible.”
Paul looks highly offended as he digs into his paper bag and waves a parsnip at us. Thai was a good call.
“So why are you being so quiet?” Dan says. “Is it because of Calle? In which case, don’t cancel us—we’re in this together. Always. You know that. And you know how I’ve struggled, we’ve all grieved, but you were the one who got unlucky and ended up with depression.” Know this, and know it makes no sense and isn’t fair. Why couldn’t I grieve like Dan? Healthy tears and a week in bed rather than six months of darkness. But that’s depression for you; it clamps down on you, disregarding who you are and whether your grief is proportionate. Besides, Dan wasn’t the one who prioritized his sleep over getting his brother home safely. He can tell me it wasn’t my fault all he wants to, but that doesn’t make it true.
Dan continues talking.
“Or—is it because you’ve found other ways to occupy your thoughts? In which case, we support you. Keep canceling our plans.”
“Is there aneitheroption?” I reply, not sure I can quite admit to either right now. I feel ambushed.
“Alexa, play ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ by Van Morrison,” Paul teases. It gets a laugh from Dan.
“Sure, I care about her.” Actually, I’ve started to care about a lot of things recently. Seeing my parents happy again, eating vegetables, the state of the public health-care system, global warming, smiling at strangers.
“And what’s with the language skills? No more two-word texts. Have you noticed how elaborately you’ve been writing?”
No. Hadn’t noticed.
“As long as you don’t start writing in poetry form, it’s all good.”
I go get them some beers to keep them quiet.
“So when is your boss leaving?” they ask in unison when I reappear.
“After her dad’s last appointment.”
“That gives you limited time to change her mind. You’d better get to work.”
“It’s not that simple. Even if I did want her to stay—which I’m not saying I do—it’s not really about me, is it? She has reasons to go back, her own life to live. This was always going to be temporary.” And what claim do I have to her? None whatsoever. Although, I can’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction at her trusting me with her blood-sugar data, with some math help, letting me into her personal life.
“Surely you saw this coming. Come on, man.” Apparently Paul is not giving up so easily.
“What? Appreciating a coworker’s excellent job performance and general decentness is not the same as talking about her for weeks.” I like my job, like working hard and feeling useful. I likememore lately too. Not willing to fuck all that up because of what is probably a tiny, little, insignificant crush on my boss I’m not even saying I have.
My phone pings with an alarm. As they go to find snacks in the kitchen, I take their absence to pull up Klara’s stats on my screen but am met with nothing.Alarm: no notifications.Maybe she moved out of range briefly? Push the thought from my mind as best I’m able.
