“I’m Hank, by the way,” she said.
“Hank,” he repeated.
“My dad wanted a boy,” she explained with the practice of someone with an unusual name. She had an accent. It wasn’t Southern, more Midwestern, a rural lilt. It reminded Matt of his friend Kala’s twang when they’d first met, before she started hiding it.
Hank laughed hard at nothing, then reached over and placed her hand on Matt’s. “Sorry,” she said. “Just in case they’re watching.”
The waitress brought over his beer and the tacos. Matt asked if Hank wanted anything, but she ordered just a glass of water.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to drink the water?” Matt said.
“I’m an Oklahoma girl; I can handle it.”
“I knew it, a Midwesterner. I’m one too. I used to live in Nebraska.”
“You’re a Cornhusker? I think I’d better take my chances with the creeps,” she said, smiling. “Where in Nebraska?”
“I moved a long time ago, and you wouldn’t have heard of it anyway.”
“Where do you live now?”
“New York, I go to NYU. But my home is just outside Chicago.” Matt looked down at the table. Was Naperville his home anymore? Was there anything left for him there? When he raised his eyes, Hank was studying him.
“So, you waitin’ on someone, friends?” she asked.
Matt shook his head. “I’m here on my own.”
She tilted her head to the side, gave him a curious look. But she didn’t ask.
“How about you? You’re here by yourself?” Matt asked, his eyes sliding back to the men at the bar who’d been bothering her.
She frowned. “I’m here for a bachelorette party.” Lowering her voice, she said, “I can’t stand the bride or her friends.”
“No?” It was a long way to come for someone she didn’t like.
“My brother’s fiancée,” she explained.
“Ah,” Matt said.
“The things we do for family, right?”
Matt took a swig of his beer, felt a sting in his chest.
“They’re all her friends and super drunk and annoying,” she continued, “so I hung back when they hopped to the next bar. But she makes my brother happy, so what can you do?”
“The elusive hunt for happiness,” Matt said. God knows Matt had been on that pursuit for some time. Even before, he wouldn’t say he’d been depressed or even sad. Despite the friction, he always knew his family loved him. He had close friends he cared about and who cared about him. He had, for all intents and purposes, a privileged life. But there was always this hollowed-out feeling in his chest he hadn’t been able to shake since Year Zero. “I took a class on happiness at school,” he said.
Hank stared at him, openmouthed. “Wait, you’re telling me that your college, which probably cost more than a house in Arkoma, has classes on happiness?” She said it like she was really dumbfounded.
Matt smiled, realizing how it must sound. “The class is called ‘The Science of Happiness.’ And it wasn’t so much about how to be happy, but about dealing with mental health wellness. But they did teach us an exercise that can make you happier.”
“Having rich parents,” Hank said, with a smile.
“No, it’s not money or status or even a fiancée that makes people happy.”
She leaned in, excited to learn the secret.
“It’s kindness,” Matt said. “Studies prove that doing five random acts of kindness a day leads to more happiness. But it has to be five, for some reason. I forget why.”
Hank narrowed her eyes. “So is that why you let me sit here, to meet your daily quota or something?” She smiled again.
The waitress came over with the water. Matt looked at Hank. “You sure you don’t want anything?”
“You know what, why not?” she said. “I’ll have a margarita.”
“Make that two,” Matt said.
CHAPTER 19
Matt peered over at the bar and noticed that the guys who’d been bothering Hank were gone. He was almost disappointed, since he was enjoying her company. He learned that she was an avid football fan and wasn’t kidding about her disdain for Nebraska, even though the Cornhusker–Sooner rivalry had died down in recent years. He also learned that she’d dropped out of community college, but planned to go back. That she was a hairstylist. That she loved dogs. He avoided telling her why he was there. It was all mindless small talk, precisely what he needed.