Everything's Relative by Jenna McCarthy

Author:Jenna McCarthy
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-12-14T16:00:00+00:00

Brooke

Brooke flipped open her teacher’s planner to the calendar. There was a huge red circle around the day’s date. July fifteenth. She and her sisters were halfway to the deadline to get their inheritance. The problem was, they weren’t halfway done with the work—far from it, in fact.

Brooke had tried to run; she really had. It was just so . . . hard. She’d nearly resigned herself to the fact that she was destined to be out of shape and poor for the rest of her life, until the night she’d overheard Jules and Shawn talking.

“I just don’t think she’s going to make it,” Jules had said. Brooke assumed she was talking about Lexi.

“But she dumped Jake; that’s a start,” Shawn had replied. He didn’t sound very hopeful.

“Dumping Jake wasn’t exactly a Herculean feat. She’s not just out of shape, Shawn, she’s out of motivation. She’s got no drive at all, and I don’t know how to help her. I hate to say it, but I’m starting to think she’s hopeless . . .” Jules trailed off here and Brooke had sat, stunned, realizing that the weight of the world—their world—had been dumped on her shoulders. She was hopeless?

No. She wasn’t. She wouldn’t be. She couldn’t be. She owed it to her sisters, to Jules at least. That was all there was to it. It would be awful and painful and she might pick up a few new swear words along the way, but she was going to do this. She was going to run a godforsaken half-marathon, at twenty-eight-out-of-shape years old.

She said it out loud, for accountability, even though she was alone.

“I am going to run a half-marathon.”

The dog-walking was going to help her kick off her training, she rationalized, and she was sure six months was still plenty of time to get in shape.

Brooke was buoyed by this newfound focus for about five minutes. Then she remembered that she had an entirely separate problem, at least as far as their inheritance was concerned: She didn’t have a single prospect for a date on the horizon. It wasn’t like Brooke was expecting or even hoping to meet her future husband before this charade was over; all she had to do was meet, and somehow engage, a decent-enough specimen of the opposite sex who might be willing to spend a few hours a week in her company.

How hard could it be? she wondered now. People met reasonably suitable potential partners every day of their lives, in every venue imaginable. They met in coffee shops and in bars, at weddings and in gyms, on cruise ships and airplanes and now, as often as not, online. Brooke even worked with another teacher at Little Me who’d met her husband at Chuck E. Cheese’s. Lety had been very busy wrangling twenty four-year-olds at the annual end-of-the-year pizza party, and Jeremy was a part-time fix-it guy who’d been called in when the Skee-Ball machine had jammed up. Apparently it was love at first sight,

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