“Naturally,” she says, as if our last conversation never took place.
“I thought I needed to be questioned by the university police.”
“Jake has been arrested and bail was not set. He’s a flight risk, it seems.”
“He’s not on his honeymoon?” I stammer.
“He is definitely not on his honeymoon, unless his new bride is named Bruiser and shares a cell with him.”
This makes me giggle. Dr. Fleece is not exactly known for her humor. “How did you know I wasn’t involved in his deception?”
“Because his name isn’t Jake.”
I allow that to sink in for a minute. “His name isn’t Jake?”
“He’s not married either. He’s a professional grifter, a con man. His girlfriend is with him, along for the ride. They con people out of money, steal identities, and move on to the next university. Apparently he’s very brilliant, and that’s how he’s gotten away with it for so long.”
“We’re not the first?”
“We’re definitely not the first. We checked his references and found out that wasn’t him. Jake Stone is also known as Travis Kitt.”
“And Anichka?”
“Tammy.”
Somehow this made me feel worse, not better. The only real romance I’d had that went the distance was with a con artist who needed the time he spent with me to meet and take down his mark.
“Who were they targeting?”
“Dr. Yamoto.”
My stomach flip-flops. The doctor had won a Nobel Prize for harnessing blue light into energy-efficient light bulbs.
“I told him about Dr. Yamoto,” I admitted.
“He may have made you believe that, but trust me, he knew who he was after.”
How Jake—or Anichka for that matter—planned to pass for a Japanese physicist couple was beyond me. But understanding that he was a professional at conning people made me feel better about falling for his shtick. Clearly Sam didn’t need to avoid me for my intellect. I apparently lost it a long time ago.
“Where did the grant money come from?”
“Does it matter?” Dr. Fleece asks.
“I just want to know, that’s all. I don’t want to be tricked again. I’ve made enough of a fool out of myself, and it’s hard to be the resident expert on happiness when you’re feeling like a tool.”
“No one blames you, Maggie. Don’t be ridiculous. The grant money is anonymous, but it’s from a corporate source.”
“We’re not indebted to some corporation, are we? The results don’t need to prove a certain outcome, correct?”
“The money is ours, free and clear.”
She said everything I needed to hear, so why don’t I want to go back? Why does it feel like I’m walking in wet cement? “I’m not sure that I’ll be back, Dr. Fleece.”
“You’re part of the deal, Maggie. If there’s no Dr. Maguire, there’s no grant.”
“What on earth? Who would make that a requirement?”
“I need a date from you, Maggie.” Dr. Fleece is back in her typical form. “When can I expect you back at your desk?”
My heart pounds as I think of alternatives, but coming up with none, I relent easily. “I’ll be back a week from today, Dr. Fleece.”
“Thank you. The department has missed you terribly. Let’s put this entire ugly chapter in our history. Hire your friend to get a new TED Talk and let’s start over.”
It all sounds so easy. Go back to what you know. Get out of your dream world and your head and get back to work. This is the job God gave me. It’s time to humble myself and get back to work.
I lift my notebook and think about my screenplay. It was a dream. I was entitled to a dream.
I’m not giving up on my screenplay, but I loved my research at one point, and I’ll find my joy in it again. Every road points straight back to the university, and this time I’ll take the path marked out for me.
24
Resilience is at the core of happiness science. Neuroplasticity allows the brain to reorder itself after trauma. This is known as post-traumatic growth, and it means that struggles can actually improve us as human beings.
The Science of Resilience by Dr. Margaret K. Maguire
THE COSTUME BALL IS THE CLIMACTIC EVENT on the “New Year, New You” cruise. The flyer, which I never received, says that costumes are to be symbolic of the person you want to become. If that’s the case, then I really should have had a Scarlett O’Hara costume, because for once I want to be the woman men notice. It probably would be more fitting that I’m the harlot Scarlett, who has to show up at Melanie’s in the vivacious red dress. Desiring the same man my best friend has captured—that seems appropriate.
Our suite is a disaster, as we’ve all pulled out every bottle, stick, and palette of makeup that we own to prepare for this party. Kathleen and Haley flank me at the mirror.
I brush powder over my makeup. “Am I the only person who didn’t get the memo that I was supposed to bring a grand costume?”
“We brought you one,” Haley says, leaving the bathroom mirror. “We knew there would be a costume night. It’s nothing as grand as the Belle costume Brent bought for you, but definitely you. We’ll let you decide which one to wear.” She trails off into the other room and returns holding up my bikini. The one that I bought in college and never wore. I’m not the bikini type. I’m more the Victorian swimming costume type.
“You didn’t!”
“Of course not,” Haley says. “Just messing with you.” She leaves the bathroom and returns again with a pink, Victorian-styled cotton prairie dress dappled with primroses. “We always did think you belonged in another era with your old soul. This is the one we selected for you—because of that show you like on the Hallmark Channel.”
“When Calls the Heart,” I tell them.
“The heart calls now. I’m so hungry!” Kathleen claps her hands. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Before all the shrimp appetizers are gone and we’re stuck with stuffed mushrooms. Nasty.”
“I’ll stick with Belle.”
“Wise choice. We shouldn’t have encouraged 1850s fashion—as if you don’t have enough trouble in that arena.” Kathleen is wearing an elaborate Wonder Woman costume, which consists of a ribbed red leotard with blue-and-white starred shorts, gold cuffs on her arms, and a fanned, red sequined cape. She’s got a gold crown with a red star that matches her lipstick perfectly. It’s the red thigh-high boots that make the outfit though. She always manages to look strong and not sleazy. How she does it, I’ll never know.
Haley is wearing a sequined green mermaid costume, complete with clamshell bra. Her stockinged, green feet stick out of the bottom, and a fanned, sparkling fish tail follows her. I’ve already stepped on it twice. She can only take tiny steps with her legs plastered together, so it will take us an eon to get to the ballroom.
“How come you both got sultry costumes and I got a gunnysack?”
“You never cared about fashion,” Haley says.
“I know I never cared about fashion. That was your job.”
“You’re wearing the best costume in the room. Brent was so cool to do that. I can’t believe he had your number so quickly.”
“You really like him, don’t you, Kathleen?”
“I do. He’s adventurous and fun. He eats like a complete teenager, but I can fix that.”
I raise my brow. “Leave the man alone. He has taste buds.”
When we’re ready and standing at the mirror, I realize just how lucky I am to have such friends. “I never should have been upset about coming here. This is what I needed—a vacation from my thoughts. A chance to speak about Amy and figure out what I needed to be happy.”
“And that is?” Kathleen asks.
“To be grateful. For the sister I lost. For the sisters I gained. And for the fact that God has already written the best story for my life. I simply need to be grateful for it.”
“Will you tell your parents you’re going to celebrate Amy
from here on out?”
“They have to deal with Amy’s loss in their own way. I only know that I feel so much better talking about her, remembering her and what it was like to have someone love me unconditionally like she did. No wonder no one else could replace that. We were like one.” I hug my two best friends. “I’m going home to find Amy’s pictures. I’m going to plaster them around my apartment, and I’m never going to be silent about her again. She is why I am who I am. You all are.”
“Hurry up! The shrimp is going to be gone!”
“Relax, Kathleen, we’re in the Gulf of Mexico. There are more shrimp to be had.”
But as it takes us about a million baby (mermaid) steps to get to the ballroom, Kathleen is fresh out of patience and leaves us behind as she makes her way to her sixth small meal of the day.
Everyone has gone all out for the costume ball. The ballroom is elegant and filled with characters worthy of any final scene in the Paris opera. The room is strewn with sparkle lights, and they surround the rails to the dance floor.
I search the room, hoping, praying that Sam will make an appearance. He doesn’t seem like the dancing sort, and he’s managed to avoid me thus far since the beach excursion. I just want one last glimpse of him to store in my memory banks. I want to remember the connection between us, how his warmth and kindness reminded me of Amy. He made me feel loved and cherished, whether he meant to or not. That wasn’t the point. The point was, love was all around me. I no longer want to forget Amy or feeling the pain of losing her. Something about Sam Wellington made me feel again. I’m not numb to the world around me any longer. Life is in color again.
Kathleen stuffs a shrimp in my mouth, and the spicy creole flavors burst on my tongue. “Kathleen!” I giggle while I slide it the rest of the way into my mouth and swallow.
“Well, there’s little romance to be had on this boat, so we may as well make the most of the delicious delicacies on board.” She strides back to the table where she left poor Haley, who cannot move without great difficulty.
“You’re looking for Sam.” The Phantom of the Opera removes his mask to reveal Brent’s extraordinary blue eyes. I smile at the sight of them.
“I’m not,” I tell him. “You make quite a handsome phantom.”
“You’re beautiful tonight, mademoiselle. Magnificent.”
“The phantom costume suits you.”
“Does it?” He looks down and brushes his chest off. “I planned to be the Beast—after his transformation into a handsome prince, of course. No one wants to look at that ghastly buffalo head at a party.” He winks and places his phantom mask back on his face. “But I lent my costume to someone without one. It seemed fitting.”
“That sounds like you, always willing to lend a helping hand.” I lift both sides of my skirt and curtsy. “I’m mailing you a check for this gown.”
“What else do I have to spend my money on? I saw a beautiful woman in desperate need of a lift so that she’d believe she was as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside. I obliged, that’s all. I can’t think of a better investment.”
“Brent, you’re too good to be true. The first moment I laid eyes on you I saw you had such an incredible heart.”
“If only the belles of Texas believed that, my life might look different. But I get friend-zoned pretty quickly. You friend-zoned me.”
“I didn’t!”
“One look at that Sam character and your attention was somewhere else.”
I gasp. “It was not.”
“Ah, it’s water under the ship.” He extends his hand toward me. “Would you like to dance, my dear?”
I take his proffered arm. “I would love to.” I figure a dance is the least I can do for a man who still manages to see me as a good person after my week of mishaps.
We twirl about the dance floor, and I really do feel like Belle in the great library. The music is lovely, the buzz of the room exciting and light. “Brent, I’m really grateful for you pulling me out of my rut. I don’t know why you did it, but I had fun on this cruise. Truly, I did. Despite my attempts to destroy any hope of it. I learned there’s a great big world outside of my lab.”
“There’s also one outside of Sam Wellington.”
My smile flattens. “Don’t mention his name to me. He had quite a good laugh at my expense on the beach, yet I’ll forever be in his debt. Because he taught me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“May I cut in?”
Our dancing comes to an abrupt halt as the man in question appears. My stomach twirls about as if it’s filled with tiny butterflies in happy, lighthearted flight, but my mind goes back to the notebook . . . Haley and Sam huddled together on the beach with my innermost thoughts and dreams scribbled in front of them. Haley and Sam. I just wanted to see Sam one last time. I didn’t mean for him to ever see me again—until it was on a book jacket at his sister’s home.
I hold Brent closer and shake my head ever so slightly. No. Don’t leave me with him. I will my eyes to speak for me, but Brent and I don’t share the same connection that Sam and I did when we were alone. Brent lets go of me easily and twists me into Sam’s waiting embrace. I don’t have much fight in me, as it is so natural to be in his arms. My anger dissipates and gives way to the warmth and tenderness I feel being near him. The power of our connection cannot be undone, no matter how inconvenient it is. I understand Sam on a level that seems timeless.
I tuck my head into his shoulder as he dances us about the floor. Because I know looking into his eyes will be my undoing. I’ll have no power to resist him if I meet that gaze, and I need to resist him. Sam will sail away from my life forever—just like so many I’ve loved. It’s hard to write about resilience when life is forever forcing your head under the water.
“I wanted your last night on the cruise to be special,” he whispers into my ear, and I shiver at his words.
“Thank you for the dance.” I pull away from him and stare at my bright, Big-Bird-yellow shoes rather than his dangerous eyes. Dangerous because if he stares into my own, he’ll know everything I feel for him. It’s imprinted on my soul.
“Haley is near the shrimp table,” I murmur to my feet. “She’ll probably be waiting for you.” It’s then that I notice his costume. “You’re the Beast!”
He slaps a palm to his chest. “I am the Beast. Brent lent me his costume.”
“Why would you dress like my partner?”
“I’ll let you guess the reason for that. It seems as if you’re quite bright, so I imagine you’ll come up with the answer.” He winks at me.
“Everything I felt for you is simply my broken heart trying to heal. I imagine that’s the case for you too. We were convenient for each other.”
“Why don’t you ask me what I feel rather than tell me?” His expression is nearly menacing as he asks the question.
“You and Haley read my screenplay,” I accuse. “Naturally, I feel you’re saying all this so you can make my screenplay come true and have a good chuckle over it. You get to be the hero, and come Monday, I’ll never hear from you again.”
His hard look softens. “Do you believe I’d do that, Maggie?”
“You’ll go back to your venture capitalizing, or whatever you call it, and I’ll go back to studying other people’s happiness. This is what they call a vacation fling.”
“Is it? Did something happen that I don’t remember? Because I think vacation flings actually have to involve some kind of fling. I never read about one that included iced tea on a patio with a butler as chaperone. But I could be wrong. You seem to be the expert.” A hint of a smile appears.
“You’re making fun of me. Haven’t you and Haley done enough of that by reading my screenplay?”
“Do you really think I’d make fun of you, Maggie?” He moves closer. “Why do you think my reading your screenplay would make you look ridiculous?”
“That’s what people say when they’re guilty. They ask a question rather than answer one.” I leave
the dance floor and he follows me into the silent hallway. The scent of cotton candy fills the room, and my attention is sidelined by the nearby popcorn shop.
“Haley is lovely,” Sam says.
“She is.” I stare at the popcorn bubbling out of its kettle rather than fall victim to his eyes and gentle words again.
“But Haley is not the one who stirred my heart.”
“She’s not?” I turn toward him.
“It appears that I must say things plainly—and not because you’re less than brilliant, but because you refuse to believe me. Haley is not who I want.”
“Everyone wants Haley,” I remind him.
Sam shakes his head. “Not everyone wants Haley, Maggie. Regardless of what your research asserts.” He touches my arm with his fingertips and I shiver. “I only went to the beach that day so I could see you and find out why you were avoiding me. I was supposed to be avoiding you so I could deny all those crazy feelings that I hadn’t felt in ages. The kind of feelings that I never thought I’d have again.” He rakes his hand through his dark curls. “When you wouldn’t give me the time of day, I realized what meeting you meant to me.”
I snicker. He said almost verbatim what I’d written in my screenplay. “Don’t tease me, Sam. It isn’t kind. Look, I know I’m a pushover from hours spent in front of my movies, but don’t be cruel. Everyone has an Achilles’ heel. This is mine. When I watch a sweet romance, it makes me remember that love wins and that there is good in the world. Love never dies. Not even when someone you love dies.”
“I know that. Who knows that better than me?”
“I’m only saying that you’ve proven your point, Sam. Maybe I’m not as intellectual as I think I am, so perhaps that means I’m capable of happiness. Do you think?”
“I think you’re the smartest woman I’ve known.”
I laugh. “So incapable of happiness?”
“Maggie, please forgive me for my ignorant words. I was protecting myself from what I felt when I saw you—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. After this cruise is over, I’ll never see you again.”
“I can’t think of a fate much worse than that,” he says, and I will myself to hold his gaze. I’m locked there as so much passes between us without a word. But then I remember his betrayal.
The Theory of Happily Ever After Page 26
