“I’m glad,” he said, smiling. “And yes, you’re going to eat a lot of egg whites and learn to like it.”
“But no lunges, right?”
He smiled wide, which gave me all the answers I needed.
“The only reason I’m saying yes is that you’re probably a serial killer, and you’ll put me out of my misery,” I said.
“See? You’re already thinking positively. That’s improvement.”
We traded contact information, and he promised to wake me up the next morning bright and early. Oh, goody.
I let him pay for my egg whites without arguing, and he walked me back to my car. I unlocked the door, and he touched my chin.
“Tomorrow is a new day, right?” I asked.
“Wrong. Today is a new day. You’re already in it.”
Ah, youth. Crazy, stupid optimism. What did a young guy with perfect looks know about life? What on earth could he teach me? He probably never had to overcome anything in his life. I drove the short distance home, convinced that my psychotic break was complete. First, I made a scene in the freezer section and then I gave my contact information to a muscle-bound stranger. In any language, that spelled crazy.
But as I got closer to my house, a tiny glimmer of hope flickered in my midsection and grew into a ray of optimism. Maybe this chance meeting was a gift from the Universe. Maybe Hudson would help me get out of my desperate situation. Maybe he would forget about the egg whites.
By the time I put the signal on to turn into my driveway, I was feeling better than I had felt during the last three days. I almost felt strong enough to take a shower and change my clothes. But just as I was going to turn in, the garage door opened and my Mercedes backed out.
Someone was stealing my car.
I put the Honda in park in the middle of the street and hopped out. “No! No!” I yelled, waving my arms around. I ran to the Mercedes and pounded on the driver’s window. There was a man in a black knit cap and a camouflage coat, driving. He was dressed like the stereotypical car thief.
“Don’t take my car!” I pleaded.
First my husband, then my furniture, then my pride, and now my car. I was being stripped bare to the bone.
I pounded on the window, again, and the thief opened it. “Don’t bother me, bitch. This is a repo.” He picked up a baseball bat from the passenger seat and waved it at me.
“What do you mean, repo? I pay the lease every month.”
“Tell your husband that.” He pulled the bat back into the car, closed the window, and continued backing out of the driveway.
“What do you mean, my husband?” I shouted, but I knew what he meant. The car and everything else in my life was under Steve’s name. The furniture and the car…would the house be next?
I stopped running and watched my Mercedes drive away into the night. The neighborhood was still dark. If anyone had heard me yell, they didn’t bother leaving their home to check it out. My bottom lip began to quiver, and I felt hysteria build inside me. But I couldn’t cope with being hysterical. I couldn’t cope with a total breakdown. In short, I couldn’t cope.
Why didn’t I get the ice cream?
Quickly, I parked the Honda and ran into my house, closing the door behind me. I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself down, but I was freaking out pretty badly. “You’re going to be okay,” I told myself. “Someone is going to take care of you bright and early tomorrow.” My voice echoed off of the tile floor, and I didn’t believe what it was telling me. Some muscle-bound stranger was going to take care of me? Fat chance.
Taking a couple of steps inside, I tossed my purse on the kitchen counter, but I threw it too hard, and it slid across and fell onto the floor. I picked it up and put it back on the counter.
That’s when I saw it.
There was a stack of unopened bills next to my purse, and sticking out from under the pile was a flyer for a delivery service called Delivery Happiness.
Its slogan was written in a beautiful, calming font:Anywhere. Anytime. Anything you want.Underneath it was a picture of a hoagie, a bottle of wine, and a chocolate cake on a table.
It was a sign.
The twenty-four-hour, toll-free number was written in bold below the picture. I grabbed my phone and dialed.
It took Delivery Happiness fifteen minutes to get to me. I passed the time pacing my house with the TV on in the background. When the doorbell rang, I jumped a foot in the air.
