The Theory of Happily Ever After

by Kristin Billerbeck

  “Quit changing the subject,” Kathleen says. “You were kissing Sam on deck. After I told you about Haley. Forget the bad decision making on the part of your career. What about girl code?”

  “I was kissing Sam.” For a brief moment, I go right back into my television romance world, only this was real. No one in my movies kissed with quite as much passion as I felt with Sam Wellington. I suppose now is not the time to reiterate what a fantastic and amazing kisser he is. Not that I have a lot of experience, but that guy can generate some heat. Imagine if we hadn’t been interrupted. I never saw it coming. He looks so innocuous. “Life can really surprise you. Definitely not innocuous.”

  “What did you say?” Kathleen asks.

  “Innocuous. You know, bland . . . innocent.”

  “I know what it means. What are you talking about?” Kathleen taps her toe, and it feels as if I don’t have a friend in the world, probably deservedly so. “There’s been nothing bland or innocent about you since you stepped on this ship. You’ve gone off the rails! Maggie, we’re trying to salvage your career, and you don’t even seem concerned that your talk got canceled.”

  Something about the way she says this triggers me. “Because I could have died!” I shout. “Excuse me for not being upset that I didn’t make a stupid speech about happiness to people who are happily on a cruise. It was bad enough I had to go to the sick bay. But then afterward I had to run away from an angry old man who wanted to see the Rockettes. He was convinced one of them was his future bride. I can’t imagine why that old goat is single.”

  “You’re single too, Maggie. We’re all single. There’s no shame in that. Is being single the reason you’re kissing some dude, because he’s the first person to try something on board?” Haley is practically foaming at the mouth. “I thought you were chasing after the bartender. Now you find that your publisher’s brother is on board and that seems more inappropriate to you, so why not? Here’s a better way to sabotage my future. I can take out my job and my best friend in one small kiss of death. Kiss my single status goodbye, switch out Jake, and no one is the wiser.”

  For once I’m speechless. I walk around the coffee table until I am calm enough to respond. When my head finally stops pounding, I stand over Haley and Kathleen, who have both sat down on the sofa.

  “You think that’s why I kissed Sam? That I’m afraid to be single? Haley, I know you’ve put up with a lot from me in the last couple months, but I would never say something like that to you.”

  “You were calling him names last night, Maggie! Now you’re having a public tryst on deck?”

  “Public tryst? Haley, you’re jealous!”

  “I’m not.” She stamps a foot on the carpet.

  “One guy doesn’t fall under your spell, so immediately you call dibs on him. He asked me to coffee yesterday, Haley. I’m not going to fight with you over a man. Any man. You want him, you’re welcome to him.” Even as I say this, the pit of my stomach aches. “But don’t accuse me of being some kind of floozy.”

  “Floozy? Is it 1920?” Haley scoffs.

  “What’s this really about, Haley? I kissed someone briefly. So very briefly.” I get lost for a second. “It’s not a crime. You make it sound as if it’s something I make a habit of.”

  “Two months ago you were marrying Jake. Now you’re kissing some guy you only just met yesterday! What are we supposed to think? Did you forget how we found you a mere two days ago? It sounds like more avoiding of your problems to me. Unfortunately, you’re just creating new ones!”

  “Maybe I am,” I agree.

  “What happened to the workaholic we knew who could never leave the lab to so much as grab a coffee? The woman who told us that Jake was perfect for her because he supported her hours? Tell us, Maggie! What’s changed?”

  I shrug. “I don’t really know. At first I couldn’t bring myself to go into the lab for fear I’d run into Jake and have to explain to my co-workers that we weren’t together. Then one day turned into the next, and that turned into two months. I realize I seem off my rocker, but my body shut down. I guess I really needed the break.”

  “What does that have to do with Sam?”

  I pause as I contemplate Kathleen’s question, then draw in a deep breath. “Somehow he made me feel like I didn’t have to answer to everyone else any longer. That it was okay to do something simply because I wanted to do it.”

  “We may be slightly concerned for your mental well-being,” Haley says. “We used to hear constant chatter about the prestigious NYU and Dr. Hamilton like he was some kind of god. Now . . . nothing. I haven’t heard you speak about your job or forward direction in months. When you do return a phone call, it’s to tell us one of the plots of a utopian movie. One of the biggest signs of depression is a lack of interest in your normal activities. Maybe you should talk to someone.”

  “I’m not depressed. I know it looks that way—escaping to my little apartment and watching endless romantic tales that have probably never happened in this lifetime—but I needed a break. I needed to empty my mind of the endless chatter and start fresh before I could figure out what I really wanted and not what everyone else wanted for me.” I mutter a short prayer under my breath. “I love you girls, and I get that I must look completely insane to you, but I’ve never felt more clearheaded in my life. Haley, I didn’t know you were interested in Sam until right before this happened, but I swear, I didn’t even have time to think about it, it just happened.”

  Kathleen and Haley exchange a critical look. They obviously don’t understand that I nearly kissed Sam last night over ice cream.

  “After hearing the chilling sounds of those explosions and watching the fire grow,” I explain. “And there was that adrenaline rush of surviving smoke inhalation that made my lungs crackle, plus the fresh breeze of the ocean air on my skin.” They both look unconvinced, so I continue. “Kissing Sam was the most natural thing I’ve ever done. For once I didn’t overthink something. I didn’t analyze it within an inch of my life—I just kissed an incredibly gorgeous man. Because I wanted to kiss him. That’s all there is to it.”

  Haley and Kathleen exchange another inside look. They stand up and surround me. “That’s not you,” Haley says. “You’re our Pollyanna who binges on fairy tales. You don’t kiss men you’ve just met.”

  “ ‘Just met’ may be overstating our situation. We shared a moment last night over ice cream, over the selfie of us that he sent Jake—”

  “Wait, what?” Kathleen is triggered once again by the sound of my ex’s name.

  “That’s our Maggie,” Haley says. “She’s lost in the romance again. She thinks she’s Sleeping Beauty and the handsome prince has kissed her awake. It’s straight out of a Disney princess movie.” She stares at me. “As long as you know this is not a movie.”

  “The kiss meant nothing.” I lie so easily that it scares me. “It was the heat of the moment, like that sailor kissing the nurse after the end of World War II. It was all emotion and adrenaline. Ask Sam, I’m sure he’d say the same thing. We were victims of circumstances.”

  “It looked more passionate than that to me.”

  “Really?” I ask with far too much interest.

  Haley rolls her eyes and exhales deeply as if to make her point. “Five minutes ago you were obsessed with Jake.”

  “No she wasn’t,” Kathleen says in her haunting voice. “She never loved Jake. He was just the next goal to climb over, and he was convenient to her career goals since he had none of his own.”

  “Kathleen!” Haley exclaims.

  “Ask her,” Kathleen says.

  “I thought I loved him,” I say. But now, after kissing Sam and spending time with him, I have to wonder if I ever had. I felt on edge with Jake, as though I was never good enough for him and he was lowering himself to be with me. It was a scenario that felt natural to me. But it was also naturally bad.

  “Maggie saw a way to keep moving forward and jump the next hurdle: marriage and family. Her first th
ought when Jake left was how she’d explain it to her parents.” Kathleen lifts her hair off her back and shakes it out. “I’d bet my firstborn on it.”

  “You don’t have a firstborn,” Haley says.

  “It’s a figure of speech, Haley.”

  “For people who have a firstborn!”

  “Stop fighting. You sound like a pair of those Real Housewives who don’t actually know what it means to be a housewife. I don’t know what I want, all right, Haley? But I’m so much closer to it than I was two months ago. I understand that I look crazy to both of you, but I don’t know what I want because I’ve never been allowed to figure it out for myself.” I start to pace the length of the suite and shimmy out of my blazer as I walk. “I wanted to kiss Sam Wellington after I emerged from the fire like Shadrach, Meshach, and that third one.”

  “Sam’s a widower,” Haley says. Shockingly, I’m instantly jealous that she knows something so personal about him that he never mentioned to me. “You should be careful about treating him casually.”

  “When have I ever treated anyone casually?”

  “I’m only saying don’t be cruel.” Haley’s eyes flash. “Just because he said something similar to Jake doesn’t mean he’s like him. In fact, I don’t think he’s anything like him. This trip might be a reset button for you, but a lot of people are here because they’re lonely and want to find true love. Don’t mock that.”

  As I lower myself slowly into an armchair, her words hit me like a wayward tugboat. “I’d never mock true love. Romance—or the idea of it, anyway—saved me at a time when I lost the point. I wasn’t just escaping in those fairy tales, I was restoring my faith in humanity.”

  “We’re here for you, Maggie. You just have to know that it’s okay to reach out and ask for help once in a while.” Kathleen’s voice is soft. “Even the biggest bodybuilders in my gym, the guys who do the power lifting for Olympic training—they need a spotter. That’s why we’re here.”

  The fight within me slithers away, and I feel my body relax as though I’ve finished a new happily ever after. “I appreciate you and Haley and all you’ve done to try to help me. I know getting this time off wasn’t easy, Kathleen.” I turn toward Haley. “And Haley, I’m thankful that you’ve morphed from the meek little publicist I once knew into this powerhouse who could handle the toughest of clients.” I sigh. “I know I seem irrational, the kind of person who could be dismissive of a handsome newcomer’s feelings, but that’s not me. I’m just a person who has never been allowed to figure out what I wanted. My parents told me to keep dancing, to keep striving, to keep studying. Be an A student, be a doctor, get tenure, be an author, be a speaker. Well, I did all that, but now that Jake’s gone and I had a career hiccup, I don’t know what’s next. I’m lost.” I lift my arms up. “I’m lost at sea. Literally.”

  “Why mess with success? Do you know how many authors would kill to be where you are? With a New York Times bestselling science book?” Kathleen asks. “There’s no reason you have to stop dreaming about being on Dr. Hamilton’s team.”

  “His field is called moral psychology. I hardly qualify at this point to even apply.”

  “Everyone’s entitled to a second chance, Maggie. How can you not appreciate how far you’ve come in your field? You’re so fortunate.”

  I take in a deep, cleansing breath and ponder her question sincerely. “Yes, I do know. How could I not know, with everyone reminding me every five seconds how fortunate I am? But now that I’ve been allowed to stop and think, I have to wonder, if it was all so fabulous, why was it so easy to give up? Why didn’t I miss the work or the striving?”

  “May I suggest that you were too busy obsessing over Jake?” Kathleen shrugs. “That’s my take. You do have an obsessive personality, Maggie.”

  “Maybe.” I look down at my feet and drum up the courage to meet their eyes. “I have achieved everything I set out to do, other than get married to Jake. Why does life feel so empty? From my own research, I understand that when a person is living well but without purpose, they’re still unfulfilled.”

  “So what’s your dream? Your purpose? To sit in sweatpants and watch syrupy movies forever?” Haley crosses her spindly arms. “Give up all your work for a fantasy?”

  It dawns on me now how jealous Haley actually is. I thought that Kathleen was messing with me about Haley having a crush on Sam, but I can see the green-eyed monster in her eye aimed at me. She has nothing to worry about. Sam is only interested in me to prove his theory—that women with half a brain are incapable of happiness. I suppose that makes his single status someone else’s fault, and while I’m genuinely sad his wife passed away, he can’t continue to make other women pay.

  “No, Haley. I’d give it all up for the chance to sit still and be. To be still and know that he is God, like the Bible says. To figure out what does make me happy, what my dream is. What does God want from me next?”

  “God doesn’t want you casually kissing men on board a ship, I know that much.” Haley’s interest in Sam is even more obvious by her rage. “He seems to frown on temporary relationships.”

  “I’m sorry it was Sam, Haley. I am.”

  A tear sparkles in the corner of her eye, and it’s a stark reminder that every time I do something for myself, there is an equal and opposite consequence for someone else. They’re right. I need to get back to work.

  “We worry you’re not being practical,” Kathleen says. “You have to make a living.”

  Her accusation forces me to laugh, even if it’s true. “I’ve been practical my entire life. I’ve never done anything but follow the rules to avoid failure. Today I was enveloped by smoke and I kissed someone I’ve only just met. It seems a tame reaction, comparatively speaking.” I slide my blue sweater on, though I should probably change out of my smoke-infested clothing so I don’t smell like a campfire.

  I stare back at my friends. I want to regret kissing Sam. I mean, it’s absolutely out of character when you consider that I never made out with my supposed fiancé, but it simply happened. For anything to happen in my life without a month of planning is nothing short of a miracle. I should feel as if I’ve broken the girl code, but Haley said she called dibs if I wasn’t interested, right? So I guess I was interested. I don’t want to be the wanton woman who just dropped one man and fell into the arms of another, but try as I might, I can’t muster the false guilt. I can’t help but think Haley was only interested in Sam for the sheer reason that he wasn’t interested in her. Maybe that’s a sign of how pessimistic I’ve really become. One thing is certain, it’s time for the truth. No matter what it costs me.

  “I don’t regret kissing Sam. That kiss just sort of happened. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but quite honestly, it’s the only thing I’ve done that I really wanted to do in a very long time. Other than maybe write my own love story.”

  “Wait, what?” Haley asks.

  “I wanted to kiss Sam Wellington, and if I apologize for it now, it will just be one more people-pleasing lie. For once I followed my heart and not the path laid out for me. I won’t do it again, Haley. Does that make you happy?”

  “No, the last part. You wrote what? Your own love story?”

  I flush. “I wasn’t simply watching sweet screenplays on film. I started writing one.”

  “Maybe you want to be a professional figure skater too?”

  “Maybe I do. The point is, I wanted to write an ending that made me happy. No one is coming into my lab to sweep me off my feet, so why not write my own ending? Jane Austen did it.”

  “Shouldn’t you be telling us about what Dr. Hamilton wrote and published? Jane Austen . . . really? Your stupor may have been worse than we imagined.”

  “Or Elizabeth Gaskell. Or Charlotte Brontë. All women who wrote their happy endings because perhaps life’s romance was disappointing for them.”

  My friends look horrified.

  “Don’t worry. It’s just a hobby. I have no plans to quit science and become the next great Nor
a Roberts.”

  They both heave a sigh of relief.

  “It’s a hobby that makes me happy. Being kissed on deck was great research.”

  Kathleen and Haley are still on the sofa, their feet stretched out on the coffee table before them and their arms crossed over their chests. Their disappointment in me is like an anchor bound to my ankle, but I cannot stop myself. I must break free of their judgment.

  I rush to the door and get into the hallway as if it’s my first breath of fresh air after the fire. Apparently it’s not enough that I’ve thrown my career overboard. I need to toss my friends too.

  13

  I often prescribe a steady dose of play to increase an adult’s happiness quotient.

  The Science of Bliss by Dr. Margaret K. Maguire

  AS I WALK TOWARD THE ELEVATORS, I’m dizzy from the ship swaying to and fro. Or maybe I’m just overwhelmed at what kind of terrible, selfish person I’ve become. Telling Haley and Kathleen why I kissed Sam felt so freeing and expansive in the moment, but as I walk away I realize I may have acted too much like Jake and not been concerned about their feelings. I slink down on the wildly decorated carpet. As I do, I think perhaps that design is to hide vomit, and I slink back up the wall.

  My head is stopped by something solid and I tumble back down. Again, the hot bartender is standing over me.

  “You spend a lot of time on the floor,” Brent growls. “You might want to try shuffleboard. Or maybe the spa on deck.” He reaches out a burly arm, and I grab it to lift myself up. “What’s up with you? How’d your talk go?”

  “I set the room on fire. Literally.” I brush myself off.

  “You’re the one! Oh, those Rockettes fans are out for blood, girl. You better keep a low profile. They were discussing it at my bar, and let me say, I wouldn’t want to meet one of them in a dark alley.”

  “Thanks for the warning. How’d your class go?”

  “Great. People left happy and drunk. My work is done here.”

  I smile halfheartedly. “Everyone needs a purpose—looks like you’ve found yours.”