Chapter 6
Two days later, I had written exactly zero words of the epic romance I’d promised Harper.
As in zilch, nada, not a one. Instead, I’d been stuck on a mental treadmill, auditioning candidates for the “larger than life” hero sweepstakes, waiting for one to feel sticky enough to grab on to as a surrogate for Sam.
What I did make progress on, however, was acquiring the dog I did not need.
I was on my way to preschool pickup when I listened to a voicemail from the breeder confirming our “go home” appointment for the following day.
Ever since I’d blurted out my dog plan to Frannie, I’d been waffling.
One minute I was focused on all the benefits of dog companionship for Lucy.
After all, she didn’t have a dad or a sibling.
The least I could do was give her a dog.
The next minute I was plagued with terror at the idea of another living creature relying on me.
Lucy ran into my arms as I opened the classroom door. After our customary big squeezy hug, I kissed her warm cheek and brushed her hair back with my fingers. Lucy retrieved her lunch bag from the wall of cubbies while I signed her out. We held hands and walked to the car.
As I drove toward the parking lot exit, I noticed the mom of one of Lucy’s classmates shouting at her son to stay out of the street while she was bent over picking up her dog’s poop.
The dog was straining at the leash, and her son’s backpack and her purse were both flopping from her shoulder toward the ground.
Cars were lining up behind me, an uneasy impatience in the air.
As I tore my gaze away, I realized: That could very well be me tomorrow. Had I even ordered poop bags?
What have I done?
As we made our way home, I willed myself to keep up a normal, child-appropriate conversation—“What did you learn in school today, Lucy?”—despite the single-note turmoil in my mind.
What have I done?
“We played in the playground extra today and me and Ivy pretended to be aminals and we crawled around the whole time and looked for bugs.”
“That sounds fun!”
No, really, what the fuck have I done?
We discussed finger painting and puzzles and teachers getting mad about food trades at lunchtime, and all the while my inner voice continued pinging me with a steady drumbeat of regret.
By the time we got home, I knew this was a massive mistake. I picked up the phone and tried six different ways to abort Operation Canine, but Frannie was having none of it. Her global response? “Too late, psycho. This is happening.”
To guarantee I couldn’t back out, Frannie decided we would both take the day off from work and road-trip to the beagle breeder I’d found in Ventura County.
As Frannie merged her orange Mini Cooper onto the freeway, I had a very bad feeling about this, deep down in my bones.
I was a bit anxious about the Packers’ reaction to a surprise addition to the family, but I was even more anxious about how I would take care of a puppy, along with Lucy, and do my job—and also write an entire book in six months.
And not just any book, but a romance featuring a love interest who, crucially, did not play tennis for a living.
There was no time like the present to bring Frannie up to speed on the new twist in my writing career. It would also be nice to talk about my hero problem with someone other than the haranguing voices in my head.
“So, there’s something I need to tell you,” I said.
Frannie flicked a worried glance my way.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. But, well, last week Harper called and gave me an ultimatum. One week to either agree to let her sell the kidnapping manuscript or deliver her a new book proposal, or she’d drop me.”
“Oh. What—”
“That’s not all,” I cut in. “I had a bit of a moment on Sunday and I stayed up all night developing a wild book proposal for a romance novel with nothing scary in it. Sort of my version of a fairy tale. I sent it to Harper, and she thinks I should write it.” I peeked over at her, hoping to discern her reaction, but her profile looked like that of a driver concentrating on the road.
“I’m listening,” Frannie said, nodding slowly. “What’s it about?”
Maybe if I said it fast she wouldn’t notice.
“It’s about a husband who disappears for several years through no fault of his own, only to miraculously return to his wife and the child he’s never met.
But I haven’t figured out his backstory yet.
Harper says he needs to be a worthy hero, larger than life, but I’m stuck. ”
“I see,” Frannie said. “And what was the hero’s story when you proposed him to Harper?”
I shoved a handful of granola into my mouth and mumbled, “A pro tennis player.”
She grimaced.
“I know what you’re thinking. It’s just that a happy story is my safest path back to being able to write and publish again.”
Frannie let the silence stretch out like the road in front of us before she spoke again.
“Obviously you need to do it. Writing is your life’s aspiration.
Aside from being Lucy’s mom, it’s the thing that most makes you you, and that’s important for both you and Lucy.
She deserves a mom who is whole and happy.
Take it from someone who grew up with a stepmom who was very much not whole, and super unhappy. ”
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed.
“But can I say one thing that you might not like?” Frannie said and I nodded.
“What I’m hoping is that by writing a love story about two people who definitely aren’t you and Sam, you’ll finally be able to envision a new future, but what I’m concerned about is that you are imagining you can write this happy life into existence. ”
My face flushed. It was an incredibly vulnerable feeling to know she could see right through me. I sensed her glancing over at me, but I averted my eyes.
“Come on, Thee,” she said, touching my shoulder.
“You’re not magic. You’re just a writer with supremely crap luck.
Promise me that you won’t get so lost in this pretend world that you’ll use it as an excuse to keep living in the past. Sam is gone.
” Her voice softened. “You can’t ever bring him back. ”
“I know,” I said quietly as I stared out the window.
She was right. And yet. What if, by some chance, my universe was cracked in a way her logical mind couldn’t compute?
But I kept that thought to myself and turned up the radio instead, which provided me with a badly needed respite from the fraught conversation.
It wasn’t until we were a few miles from our exit that Frannie spoke again. “How about a movie star?”
It took me a second to realize she was proposing a backstory for my hero.
Thrilled to convert my solo effort into a dual-player game, my brain lit up like an Xbox roaring to life.
“That was Harper’s suggestion, but it’s such an obvious choice.
Who doesn’t love a movie star? I could probably dream up a tragically misunderstood persona, but how would I distinguish my character from the other 337 movie stars already featured in novels, a few of them written by actual movie stars? ”
“Race car driver? Those dudes are fire.”
“Maybe if I could tell you the difference between a carburetor and a transmission. The automotive research alone would be brutal. Other ones I’ve already rejected are: A writer, too on the nose.
A rock star, but I don’t have a musical bone in my body.
And a powerful politician, which sounds fun but then I’d have to live with forever being compared unfavorably to Aaron Sorkin. ”
“I got it,” Frannie said, smacking the steering wheel. “What if your character is an ER doc. I think I’ve mentioned I know a hot one you could use for research?”
“Nice try.” I laughed. “From what I’ve heard, ER docs spend most of their time extracting foreign objects from noses and buttholes. Pretty sure that wouldn’t be quite heroic enough for Harper.”
“He is cute, though,” Frannie said.
“All kidding aside, dating again, or at least dating someone great again, is tempting. And I’m even willing to forgive your stupendous lack of judgment with the first setup,” I chided.
“But there’s no way on earth I could juggle a new relationship, a new book, a young princess, a puppy, and a demanding job all at the same time.
There’s not enough time in the day. I’m not saying no, but what if we agree to come back to this after I write the book? ”
As we exited the freeway, Frannie turned to me. “OK, but I’m gonna hold you to that. Let’s just hope Dr. Hottie isn’t already taken by the time you decide to give him a chance.”