“That’s terrible breakup etiquette,” Sue agreed.
“Right?” Joe said. “The dumper is supposed to give the dumpee a little space.”
I winced. “But instead, I demanded that you come as my date to my art show.”
Joe looked at me with affection. “I thought you were so mean.”
“It was mean!” I agreed. “By any normal standard, it was objectively super mean!”
Joe shrugged. “Except that we left normal standards behind a long time ago.”
“Exactly.”
Sue looked at us gazing at each other. “So, okay. You’ve cleared this all up. What now?”
Joe and I turned to look at each other. And I suddenly felt so awash with gratitude for this moment—for everything we’d been through. For the fact that I’d called Joe and left that voicemail. And that Mr. Kim had decided to matchmake us. And that Joe had chased me across the rooftop to try to get the story straight. We could have let it all go long before now. We could have tried less hard. We could have given up in the face of all our misunderstandings.
But we didn’t.
It takes a certain kind of courage to be brave in love. A courage you can only get better at through practice.
Standing here on this rooftop, with the wind rustling my skirt and the sky floating above us, I was so grateful to Joe for giving me a reason to try.
“It’s like that, is it?” Sue said, taking it all in.
“Yeah,” I said, my eyes still locked on Joe’s. “It’s like that.”
“Guess you guys don’t want to stay and help clean up, then?”
“Not especially,” I said. “No.”
“Fine then,” Sue said. “You’re excused.”
Epilogue
ONE YEAR AFTER that party, Mr. and Mrs. Kim kicked me out of my hovel. They were making a rooftop garden and needed it for a potting shed.
“You’re kicking me out?” I said.
But Mr. Kim wasn’t having it. “Go marry Helpful. You’re practically married, anyway.”
“Maybe I will,” I said, and then I held up the engagement ring on my finger.
I wasn’t spending much time at my place by then, anyway—now that I’d helped Joe refurnish his apartment.
I mean, that Viking stove of his was a significant draw.
And so, of course, was Joe himself.
Oh, and you heard that right. I’m still calling Oliver “Joe.”
He just looks like a Joe to me.
And we really are getting married.
I admit: the idea of Joe’s wanting to be a family with me has taken the pressure off Peanut to defy all laws of nature and live for another twenty years.
It’s also taken the pressure off Lucinda to be anything other than her limited self. She still defends Parker. But sometimes I can see her side. What mother could possibly go against her own child?
Parker got transferred to Amsterdam for two years, anyway. So for now I have my father and Lucinda to myself, and we have dinner together from time to time.
Turns out it’s easier to be less mad at people when other parts of your life are happy.
Sometimes Joe and I try to place bets on Parker’s destiny. Will she always be evil, or will she grow out of it? He’s a bit more optimistic than I am, but he defers to my expertise.
She might grow out of it, though. Who knows?
People can definitely change. I sure did.
And if Parker does, I’ll cheer for her.
I’ll also lose a hundred dollars on that bet. But happily.
* * *
IT’S SO STRANGE to me now, looking back on that upside-down time in my life, how many good things came out of it. If you’d asked me at the time, I’d have told you everything was ruined forever.
But of course the fact it was all so hard is part of what made things better.
It forced me into therapy for a while, for one.
It forced me to rethink what making art meant in my life.
It forced me to reevaluate some ideas that I’d never questioned about who we all are and what it all means. Because things were so overwhelming, I had no choice but to accept some help. And then I found out that letting people help you isn’t so bad.
It’s definitely the kind of thing you can get used to.
I mean, a woman who didn’t believe in help somehow wound up madly in love with a compulsive helper.
Isn’t it lucky when we’re drawn to people who can teach us things we need to learn?
Like how to let other people make us tea, for example. Or run to the store when it’s late. Or walk the dog on a rainy night.