Chapter 18
THE DAILY DOSE OF GOOD
Dev
I’m not disciplined for nothing.
The way I see it, all my training in the weight room, on the ice, and at the dinner table when I resist carbs will come in handy tonight.
I can resist the woman I want just like I can resist bread.
I’ll have to be my own goalie, saving me from me.
The key will be routine. First, we’ll grab some food, and as we eat, I’ll make sure we chitchat about anything else in the world besides sex, beds, and romance.
Starting now.
On the walk to the restaurant, Ledger waggles his phone and tells us he needs to return a call to his dad, so he ambles ahead, and we give him some space.
I reach into my grab bag of fun facts and turn to the woman by my side.
“Did you know there’s a prehistoric bird once thought to be extinct that’s now roaming through the wilds of New Zealand again? ”
Aubrey tilts her head. “What kind of bird?”
“Takahē. An iridescent flightless bird and now a conservation success story. My parents sent me an article on it. That’s their shtick. Happiness,” I say.
“Do you mean that’s their schtick as therapists?”
As we turn the corner, we pass a sundry shop with a rack of postcards out front.
I’m tempted to thumb through them, but I resist the pull.
“A lot of their clients are dealing with anxiety and depression due to, well, the state of the world. Climate change and all. So they’re both big on trying to teach them about finding happiness in the moment.
Compassion. Kindness. But those two often stem from finding personal happiness.
So, they look for the good news in the world,” I explain. “And they send it to me each morning.”
Aubrey’s smile is soft, almost enchanted. “They send you stories every day?”
“The Daily Dose of Good, they call it.” Maybe it’s cheesy to share this. But I’m proud of them. “Their theory is that focusing on some of the good things happening can help you experience more happiness, and that can offset, I suppose, the shitty things.”
“I love that. I think I believe it. I want to believe it,” she says, clearly giving it some thought. “What about you?”
“Hard to do, but I try,” I say.
Except a dark cloud floats over me. Do I try hard enough? Sometimes I get too caught up in the intensity of my job, the drive needed to play at the top of my game. Happiness sometimes takes a back seat to ambition, that powerful motherfucker.
“What else do they send you in the daily dose? Like, what was in it today?” Aubrey asks, her ankle boots click-clacking on the sidewalk as we pass a vintage shop peddling antique road signs right beside blouses and teacups.
“Honestly, their stuff is the antidote to the regular news. For instance, I read a story about a landfill in Latin America that became a mangrove forest. Or, there was one about a dude who used discarded vape batteries to build an electric scooter.”
“Oh! I keep meaning to try out a scooter. I’d love to get around on something upcycled.”
I picture Aubrey on a scooter, her flaming hair fanning out from under a helmet, her legs lean as she cruises from her place in the Mission to her hair salon in Hayes Valley.
Would she wear those little black ankle boots she has on now? Or maybe those tall pink ones from the plane? Or a pair of dark red thigh-high socks that peek out over the tops of her black boots like the ones she wore to that Christmas party a few years ago?
That party before Eva. For a sliver of a second, I wonder—was that my chance?
Did I miss it?
The cloud darkens more.
So much for the daily dose of good.
* * *
I’m back on track a little later as we finish dinner at The Green Pantry, a farm-to-table restaurant that she had on her restaurant research list.
All the tension from the room mishap vanished long ago thanks to the lube of good food and friendly conversation.
We’ve shot the breeze about the upcoming hockey season, though Ledger kept his mouth shut, for the most part, about the sport we both love. I can guess why, but I sense I shouldn’t poke around there.
Aubrey told us about a photography class she’s been taking online, since she wants to improve her photography of clients and their styles.
“I’ve found that a good picture makes people happy, like a good hair day or a good chat,” she says, then sets down her fork with a clink next to the remains of her mushroom and snap pea polenta.
“And a free meal. So maybe Aiden will surprise us and have paid the bill.”
Yup. We’re back on track, keeping things in the friend zone. “Maybe he even surprised you every day of the honeymoon. Tomorrow could be a…surprise spa day,” I offer building on this tale of Aiden’s clearly unintended generosity. Aiden is a cockblocker. This will for sure do the trick.
“Don’t get me excited,” Aubrey says.
“I bet he has chocolate-covered strawberries waiting for us when we return to the room,” Ledger says.
“Now you’re really teasing.” The spark in her brown eyes tells me she loves that idea.
Immediately, I want to find berries for her. I grab my phone. “Siri, does the Blackberry Inn have chocolate-covered strawberries?”
Siri responds quickly with, “The number of calories in chocolate and berries is—”
With a groan, I punch the volume on the phone. “Shut it, Siri. No one needs your calorie buzzkill.”
Another time, I’ll check on the option. Maybe back at the hotel.
With a contented sigh, Aubrey tilts her head.
A soft smile tips her pretty pink lips. “Guys, seriously. Thank you. I know the whole ‘sharing a suite’ thing is awkward, but I appreciate you just rolling with everything on this trip,” she says.
My heart warms. It’s worth it, tabling all these feelings.
Worth it to make her see there are good guys in the world.
“You say it like it’s a hardship to handle a change in the schedule.
” I lean back in the chair, my empty plate in front of me since I polished off every last bit of my seared salmon and summer green beans.
“I don’t know. Change is hard for a lot of people.” She sounds a little resigned, maybe disappointed too. “Aiden didn’t like it one bit when things didn’t go according to plan. He’d get very antsy and agitated.”
I want to roll my eyes and tell her how damn glad I am that he’s the ex, but then I realize she doesn’t need to hear that. She’s glad he’s the ex. She’s telling me this because she’s worried we’d be the same. “That must have sucked. When he acted that way,” I say, gently.
She brightens. “It definitely made me tense at times. Wondering how he’d handle it if I had a last-minute client or a schedule change,” she says, then she dips her face, lifting it a second later and saying to us in a shy whisper, “Is it weird that I feel seen right now from what you just said? Because I do. I just do.”
Too many people are used to being treated like shit. They assume it’s the norm. I hate that she’s felt that way. “You should. What you said makes all the sense in the world,” I say, emphatic.
After Ledger takes a final drink of his wine, he adds, “Doesn’t sound like fun to go through the day always looking behind you.”
“It wasn’t. Though, the weird part is my dad was so sure Aiden was a good guy,” she says. “He was so happy when I dated Aiden briefly after college, and so convinced he was my one who got away.”
And the picture of Aubrey colors in some more. She must have felt the pressure of expectations. “Was that one of the reasons you said yes to his proposal? Because you thought your dad wanted it for you?”
Like it costs her something, she nods. “I think so.”
“That’s gotta be hard. Wanting to live up to someone who’s not here anymore.”
Ledger shifts closer to her, tapping the table, perhaps to make his point.
“That’s normal though. Most of us are wired that way.
Hell, I want to make my dad happy and he’s around.
That’s why I called him back earlier. He wanted to talk all things broadcast booth,” Ledger says.
“It’s hard to want to make someone else happy.
But to have to think about it when someone you love is gone? Hell, Aubrey. That’s a lot.”
Aubrey sighs, sounding a little relieved. “Thanks for understanding. I guess Aiden tricked a lot of people. I just wish I’d figured it out sooner.”
“Hey,” I say, sitting up straighter, leveling her with my gaze. “That’s just what some people do. That’s what some people are good at. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It can take you a while to figure it out,” Ledger adds. “Took me a while with my ex.”
I give a nod of solidarity. “Same here. With mine.”
Aubrey leans closer, her gaze focused on Ledger, then me, like she wants to know both of us better. “What happened?”
She’s so curious, so earnest as she asks that I know I’ll tell her. I’m sure I’ll start to open up.
Guess I’m not such a good goalie when it comes to keeping her out.