Chapter Five
Tessa fell immediately into planning mode while her friends exchanged worried looks in the rearview mirror.
The rhythmic swishing of the car’s windshield wipers barely kept pace with her racing thoughts.
Her internal screams of injustice fell away with each passing block.
Life isn’t fair, and it isn’t what you make of it, she thought. Life is what you’re willing to accept.
Suddenly, she had nothing left to lose, and it was surprisingly empowering.
The moment the frenzied words had left her mouth, she knew that being the heroine of her own story was exactly what she needed to do.
She needed to choose happiness. Take a stand.
Or more in Tessa’s case, take a seat. If the boys’ club at Hello, Marketing wanted to spend all those hours golfing, they could pick up their own slack in the aftermath.
She was done working more hours so they could work less. Arya Stark would never.
Kate, Hallie, and she were the strongest, smartest, most fabulous women she knew. They deserved lives of fulfillment and joy. They needed more than just a weekly three-woman group therapy session masquerading as a book club.
Kate’s life was ruled by her followers and fear of losing them. Hallie endured a tyrant of a boss and a fiancé that bored her into complacency. Tessa had gold-medaled in people-pleasing so many times the weight of the awards kept her prostrate on the ground, utterly incapable of standing.
Fuck all that.
Twice.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Tessa’s building, and she slipped her key into the lock on her apartment door. She entered on autopilot. All remnants of hurt and anger had effervesced into the ether. The emptied space refilled by purpose.
Time for changes. Lots of changes. Every change she’d dreamed of making for years. She grabbed a notebook and pen from her bookcase and climbed onto her couch, tucking both feet beneath her.
“She’s making lists,” Kate said, pressing the door shut and flipping the lock.
“I’ll make drinks,” Hallie called.
Tessa drew a line down a blank page, dividing it in the middle.
She wrote all the things she did on a daily basis that were above and beyond reasonable expectations.
Then she sorted those things into two categories.
Actions she took because they brought her joy and satisfaction versus those she did in the hopes of gaining a specific response from someone else—a promotion from her boss, for example.
Hallie arrived with a tray of drinks and an eager expression. She set the tray on the coffee table. “Rum and Coke for you two,” she said. “Coke, no rum, add vanilla syrup and maraschino cherries for me.”
Tessa and Kate thanked her and followed her lead when Hallie raised her glass in a toast.
“To friends,” Hallie said.
“And great escapes,” Kate said.
“New beginnings,” Tessa added. Then, she turned her notebook to face them. She sipped her drink and savored the familiar warmth and sweetness as her friends looked over her notes.
Hallie whistled. “That’s a lot of writing. How long was I in your kitchen?”
Kate only offered a small sad smile.
The bulk of the words on Tessa’s page fell into the category of things done for reasons other than her personal joy or satisfaction. Ninety percent of what she did every day was for someone else. Was she even a whole person if her life wasn’t lived, at least half the time, for herself?
She couldn’t continue down this path. She wouldn’t. But where did someone start the process of reinventing their entire life?
Hallie stood. “I’m going to make sandwiches. It’ll help me think.”
Tessa rested her head against the couch, hating the way she’d handled things at the gala.
“Tomorrow is going to be the worst. Everyone who thought I was getting promoted will want to talk to me about it. At least half of the attendees saw me leave before Peyton reached the mic. How am I supposed to explain that I’m a brat who couldn’t be happy for a coworker? You know that’s what it looked like.”
Kate shook her head. “Don’t underestimate people. Your coworkers know who shows up and who plays golf every chance they get. Who cares about the rest of them? Say you had a family emergency.” Her fair brow knitted. “Hey, how is your dad these days? Have either of you heard anything from Devin?”
Tessa groaned. She’d temporarily forgotten about her other problem.
“Uh-oh,” Kate said. “I don’t like that sound. Something happen with your brother?”
Tessa rolled her eyes, then nodded.
Hallie returned with a look of determination and three plates. Each held a sandwich and side of chips. “What did I miss?”
“This smells amazing,” Kate said. “Bless you.”
Hallie turned her eyes to Tessa.
“Devin’s home,” Tessa said. “He’s moved in with Dad, and Dad wants us to have a nice family dinner.
I’m worried it’ll be like all the other times.
He’ll stay long enough to get restless and flounder, then drain a little more life from our dad, possibly some cash from his retirement account, and vanish again. All while I helplessly watch.”
“Family stuff is tough,” Hallie said.
“I hate feeling helpless,” Tessa said. “I hate being the one taking care of everything while simultaneously having no control. Meanwhile the people in power, like Dad and Xavier, make terrible choices. How did the world become so unbalanced?”
“There are power imbalances everywhere,” Hallie said.
“Look at Bryce. He gets everything he wants because he was born into the right family. He’s a great guy.
Kind, funny, smart, steadfast. But there are lots of other people with those qualities who have to fight for everything they have, and they will never have a portion of what others have. ”
Tessa couldn’t help wondering if the other people on Hallie’s mind were her family members and friends. Maybe even herself. She and Bryce were inarguably from two different universes when it came to their life experiences and lineages.
Kate set her sandwich down and narrowed her eyes. “Hallie.”
“It’s fine,” Hallie said, pushing onward. “Bryce and I will make a nice life together, but it seems wholly unfair that I get everything he has just because I marry him. I’m not even sure how to be a Haymaker.”
“Hallie Haymaker,” Tessa said. “Sounds like a video game character.”
“I would kick ass in any fighting game,” Hallie assured.
“But this country club reality I’m looking at makes me want to run for the hills, and there’s not a lot I can do about it.
I love Bryce, and that’s his life. I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known him.
But somehow, I never saw it as my life. I was supposed to own a fabulous new café by now, creating artsy organic recipes for the masses, long before becoming anyone’s wife. ”
Kate brushed a napkin across her lips and set it aside.
“I think about the things I wish I could change all the time. I’ve wanted to try new things with my social media presence for a while.
I’m not the privileged college kid I was when things took off for me, and the persona doesn’t fit anymore.
I don’t live on my family’s money these days, and I’m getting older.
Playing the role of debutante feels a little ridiculous.
And depressing,” she added. “I want to show the world who I am now, but I doubt my audience has any interest in my obsession with books and yard chickens. And I can’t afford to lose followers. I have to pay my bills.”
Hallie made a crazy face. “People love yard chickens. And books. I bet they’d have fun watching you live your best artsy granola life.
That’d be far more interesting than the flawless version of yourself that you post online.
That version is a woman you look at but can’t relate to or engage with.
The real you is authentic, kind, and relatable. ”
“Agreed,” Tessa said. “Maybe it’s time to introduce more aspects of yourself to your followers. Ease them over to the cottagecore life with you. Embrace your inner Elizabeth Bennet.”
Kate stared blankly through the nearby balcony door at the rain-soaked world beyond. “I don’t know. I’d lose followers, which will lead to losing sponsors, and strange as it is, living in a very specific way is my actual job.”
“We used to be such baddies,” Hallie said. “We used to be brave. What happened?”
“I’m already thirty-six,” Kate said. “I wanted to be married and staying home with my babies by now, setting trends in parenthood with perfectly lighted photos.”
Hallie groaned. “Three different goals. Three different lives. Three unsatisfied women. What are the odds?”
“I’m actually glad this happened,” Tessa said, seeing the lost promotion from a new perspective.
“Can you imagine my workload if I’d been named VP of accounts?
I mean, I doubt Peyton will do anything at all, but I’m sure that wouldn’t have been the case for me.
” She took another sip of her drink, feeling the rush of adrenaline once more.
“That’s a moot point.” She waved a hand aimlessly before her.
“I wasn’t promoted. Peyton was, and I’m done jumping through hoops, hoping the effort is noticed. ”
Hallie narrowed her eyes on Tessa. “So,” she said, dragging the little word into several syllables. “What exactly are you planning to do?”
“I’m going to start asking myself what I want before making decisions,” she answered. “That’ll be the crux, I think. Instead of just doing things out of habit or to please others. I will serve myself first.”
“W-W-T-D,” Hallie said. “What would Tessa do?”
“I strongly approve,” Kate said. “That sounds incredibly empowering. I think you should go for it.”
“I am,” Tessa said.
She wasn’t speaking hypothetically this time. She wasn’t dreaming anymore. She was taking action.
“Not what would I do,” she said. “What would the main character in my life’s story do.” She swung her harried gaze to Kate, then back to Hallie, before adding her next four words. “Do it with me.”
Hallie made a small unintelligible sound.
Kate wet her lips. “Do it how?”
“I don’t know,” Tessa said. “But I think we should make a thirty-day pact.”
Hallie frowned. “To?”
“To only behave how our favorite heroines would. To be the main characters we truly want to be.”
“I’m getting married,” Hallie said. “My plate is full.”
“But you aren’t happy, and you don’t have to do anything big like quit your job or leave your fiancé.
You can just adjust the everyday stuff, unless you want to do the big things.
Think about Jo March. She didn’t fit into the ideas society had for her, but she didn’t conform, and you don’t have to either.
You have an entire life to live after the wedding. What will you do with it?”
Hallie’s brows rose.
Kate set her hands in her lap.
“I need this,” Tessa said. “And I don’t think I can do it on my own.” She looked from Hallie to Kate. “I’m afraid I’ll fall back on old habits, and I won’t stick to it without you guys. Besides, this feels like something we all need right now, and I want happiness for all of us.”
Kate bit her bottom lip but didn’t speak.
“Please?” Tessa asked, feeling her friends’ reluctance begin to crack.
Hallie rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Really?” Tessa asked. The buzz of anxiety she’d carried from the gala turned to butterfly wings in her chest.
“Yeah. What the hell. Count me in,” Hallie confirmed. “We’re confident, capable women. We should be doing more of what we want.”
“Agreed!” Tessa said.
“After the wedding, I’ll finally have the time, money, and influence to launch my dreams. I’ll just have to get Bryce on board. Maybe I can request his support as a wedding gift.”
They turned to Kate, who didn’t look convinced.
“I think it’s time we all do better,” Tessa said carefully. “Or we’ll be meeting for book club at fifty, still wishing our lives were different.”
Kate took a long deep breath and straightened before raising one pinky finger.
Hallie leaned across the table and pressed the tip of her right pinky finger to Kate’s.
Tessa completed the triangle with one little finger of her own.
“Thirty days of nothing but main character energy,” she said.
“The heroine in my book wouldn’t settle for the crap I’ve been settling for.
She’d walk into every room knowing her worth, instead of looking to others for reassurance and attagirls.
And she’d dress how she wants and act how she feels, instead of trying desperately to blend in with the good old boys who have no interest in including her. ”
“I’ll try to speak up more,” Hallie said. “The heroines in my stories always tell their partners exactly what they want and how they like it.”
Kate released a reluctant breath. “I’ll look for a bridge between online authenticity and paying my bills.”
“Or you can just build the bridge yourself,” Tessa said. “I’ll bet the heroines in your rom-coms take big chances and win.”
“Yeah,” she said. “But first, they usually fail miserably.”
“We won’t do that part,” Hallie said.
“Thirty days,” they agreed.
Tessa hoped this was the beginning of something beautiful. A story for the ages.
Not the first chapter of How to Blow Up Your Life.