Perfect Happiness by Kristyn Kusek Lewis

Author:Kristyn Kusek Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-04-21T00:00:00+00:00

Ten

SOS! SOS!

Amanda’s text arrives just as Charlotte’s pulling into the parking lot of the high school. She’d decided to blow off the rest of the day and leave work early to watch Birdie’s practice, hoping the gesture might smooth things between them.

What is it? she types, scanning the groups of students milling between the parking lot and the practice fields. School’s been out for over an hour, but with all of the activities that these kids have these days, few of them will be home before dinnertime.

A warning that your mother came by an hour ago and mentioned the idea of us walking that horrendous dog of hers down the aisle at her and E’s vow renewal.

Oh, Jesus, Charlotte types. And are we walking down an aisle?? Does she think this is a royal wedding?

She also wants us to all give toasts.

No! I already weaseled my way out of helping her write her vows.

Says she will call you about it in the am to discuss.

God help us all.

Charlotte starts to get out of the car, then hesitates, deciding to check Instagram quickly. Right before she left the office, she’d posted a photo of the cherry blossoms, a caption about noticing the little things because they are so fleeting. Almost 16,000 likes. She taps over to her profile page and checks her follower count. Almost 94,000. Another book might double it, she thinks, and then she thinks again about the money, recalling those studies that occasionally pop up in her psych journals about it—the misery of lottery winners, the correlation between income and happiness. There’s a sweet spot, around $100,000, she thinks she remembers, past which people just become more miserable as their incomes grow. And then she thinks of Jason. And Jamie. Would he be happier with her? Is he already?

She walks across the grassy swath that separates the parking lot from the tennis courts, and has a momentary panic that Birdie won’t be there. But then she hears the familiar thwack of Birdie’s racket against the ball, and sees her daughter racing across the court, her arm slicing through the air. The sight itself is a comfort to Charlotte, because this—the grace, the strength, the speed—this is her Birdie.

She barely knows the other parents from the team, but she smiles at them as she climbs the metal bleachers, nodding hello. A woman in a green Masters Tournament baseball cap turns to her from her spot two rows beneath. “She’s yours, right?” she says, pointing at the court, where Birdie is getting ready to serve.

“Yes,” Charlotte says, slipping her feet out of her flats and resting them on the warm metal of the step in front of her. She wishes she was dressed like this woman is, in exercise shorts and a tank top, the unmistakable sheen from sunscreen on her skin. She looks like summer vacation.

“She’s only a freshman, right?”

Charlotte nods.

“Wow,” the woman says, though the expression on her face shows no enthusiasm. She turns away and raises her eyebrows at the woman sitting next to her, who hasn’t bothered to greet Charlotte.

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