Ex Therapy By Lisa Scott
Aubrey Carter walked into her therapist’s office and sat on the couch. Then she popped up and paced the room. “You’ve got to help me.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” her therapist, Diana, said. “What’s going on?”
Aubrey stopped to wring her hands. “My sister, Kyla, has a new boyfriend, and now she’s determined to find me one.”
Diana shrugged. “So tell her you don’t want one.”
“That’s just it—I do. I don’t want Kyla finding me one, though. She thinks she’s this great matchmaker.” Aubrey looked around the room and lowered her voice to a whisper. “But she’s not.” Aubrey sat on the again, pulling down the throw on the back of the couch and draping it over her lap. “I know she won’t be able to relax with her new guy until I’m paired up. I think she feels guilty. Kyla and I have always been single together on Valentine’s Day. It’s our night. We compose a top ten list of reasons why we we’re glad we don’t have men. We go out for karaoke and make up lyrics to stupid love songs. We share a box of chocolates. She eats the gross maple nougats; I eat the coconuts.” Aubrey sighed. “She’ll be worried about me alone on Valentine’s Day. It’s only a week away. She’ll probably invite me out with her boyfriend.”
“Tell her you met someone,” Diana said.
“She can see right through my lies. It’s like a super power or something. But even if I do find someone, I know how it’ll end. I’ve been thinking about it, and every single guy I’ve dated has dumped me. Isn’t that strange? There’s gotta be a reason I end up with guys who leave me.” Aubrey shook her head. “I’m sure you remember them all—Dane and Simon, and that whole debacle with Quinton and my missing shoes.” Aubrey threw up her hands. “I don’t get it—I can cook killer Italian, change my own tire, and do an hour on the elliptical, but I can’t do romance right—and I try so hard.” She pressed her fingers against the corners of her eyes. “I will not cry over this.”
“Aubrey, most people can’t get it right. What do you think keeps me in business?” Diana said.
“Me. I keep you in business. You’ll probably have to change careers if I ever get engaged.”
“It’s a tempting idea.” Diana took set down her notebook and looped her hands around her knees. “Listen. I think we should try something different. Instead of sitting here wondering why things didn’t work out with your exes, why not ask them?”
“Ask them what?”
“Ask them what went wrong,” Diana said with a shrug.
Aubrey’s eyes widened. “Like, with a survey?”
“Or just a conversation,” Diana said quickly.
“A conversation and a questionnaire. Kyla and I talked about creating a pre-dating survey before she hooked up with her new guy.”
Diana leaned forward. “You could just talk to them. On the phone.”
Aubrey snapped her fingers “I could meet them and bring pictures to prompt memories, along with the questionnaire and maybe video tape it, too?”
Diana shook her head. “Your skills are underused as a receptionist.”
“I don’t want a job that’s going to stress me out, or leave me working sixty hours a week. It gives me a reason to get up, and I get to socialize. Plus, I have so many friends who can’t find a job, I’d hate to take one of the good ones when I don’t even need it.”
“You’ve handled the shock of your mother’s inheritance well, especially since you were still in high school when you found out you’d be a millionaire at eighteen. I just think you could strive for more.”
“Hey, I do a weekly poll on which candies I should have on my desk—I like to shake it up—and I rotate decorations monthly. They love me at the office. Debbie, the other receptionist just answers the phone. She adds nothing to the mix. My talents are appreciated.”
“Let’s save that for another session.” Diana made a note on her legal pad.
Aubrey waved her off. “So, do I approach everyone I’ve ever gone out with for this survey?”
Diana twirled her pencil between her fingers. “How about anyone who lasted more than three dates.”
“Going back how far?”
“High school?”
Aubrey was counting on her fingers. “Six guys.” Her smile fell. “I’m twenty-three years old and I’ve only dated six men.”
“That’s because you’re incredibly selective and only accept dates from men you think you could marry—once they match up to 80% of the requirements on your checklist. Over the years, you’ve turned down plenty of dates which could’ve led to more boyfriends.”
“True.” Aubrey sat thinking for a minute, and then jumped up from the couch. “This is brilliant! They’ll tell me everything I did wrong! I’m going to get started today.”
“We’ve still got fifteen minutes left,” Diana called out, tapping her watch, as Aubrey dashed out the door.
“Take a break! Go get a cup of coffee!” Aubrey hollered back.
Aubrey went straight home and started composing a fifty-part relationship-in-review questionnaire. Some were yes-no questions, others had a few lines for essay style answers, and others had a points-ranking system from one to ten. She was pretty confident she’d score high on the “Was I a good kisser?” question. She changed “Was I too dramatic?” from a yes/no question to an essay question, and added a 1-10 scale. A few of her exes may have mentioned the word drama from time to time.
After a bit of research on the Internet, she was excited to find all but one of the guys still lived in the Boston area. Surprisingly, Simon had moved to rural Vermont, but a road trip never hurt anyone. With a smile, she curled up in bed, excited to find out where she’d gone wrong—so she could start getting things right.
***
The following morning at work, Aubrey announced that she’d need the next two days off as personal days.
“What for?” asked Barb, the perpetually frowning woman in HR.
Aubrey crossed her arms. “It’s personal. That’s why they’re called personal days.”
“Very well. We’ll see you on Monday.”
“Make sure you put out the M&M’s tomorrow. That’s what everyone voted on. They’re in my top desk drawer.”
Barb set down her I Love My Cockapoo coffee mug. “Is that necessary?”
“Unless you want a full-on office revolt.”
“Fine.”
During her lunch break, Aubrey called the dreamy guy she’d dated three years earlier. She still had Ian’s contact information in her cell. Guess she was hopeful they’d get back together. But she’d never heard from him again after he dumped her. Hopefully, he still had the same number. Her hands shook as she dialed. She’d taken the breakup with Ian hard. He made excellent French toast and was a fabulous kisser—French and all other kinds.
The phone rang four times before he picked up. “Hello?”
“Ian? It’s Aubrey Carter.”
He said nothing.
“We used to date?”
“Of course—yes. I’m just surprised to hear from you.”
She twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “How are you?”
“Great. I’m great.”
She was about to ask if he still had six-pack abs, when she heard someone crying in the background. Her stomach flipped. “Is that a baby?”
“Yes, it is.”
The piece of hair slipped from her grip. “You have…a baby?”
He paused as the shrieking continued. “Yeah.” He hesitated. “My wife and I just had a baby.”
Her heart fell, but she reminded herself that the point of this investigation wasn’t to get back together with her exes; it was to find out what had gone wrong—fix it—and get on with her life. “Congratulations,” she said, sounding as enthusiastic as she could, which was tough, because Ian had been a really great guy. A pick-out-wedding-china guy. Apparently, someone else had thought so, too. Damn. She definitely would’ve given him another shot if he’d been interested. But then again, he did break up with her. Clearly something had been missing. He was a few years older than her; maybe he’d thought she was too immature.
Ian’s voice brought her back to the present. “Thanks. We’re real happy. So, what’s up? Why are you calling after all this time?”
She cleared her throat and gripped the phone. “I’m working on a project, sort of a historical perspective of my dating life, and I wanted to know if you could get together and answer some questions for me.”
“Questions?”
“About us. And what went wrong.”
“Oh. That’s easy. I had to focus on my career. I was up for that promotion, remember?”
“Yeah. But I wanted to talk about it more. I have some forms and questions…”
He laughed. “Of course you do. Okay, I can meet you tomorrow for lunch. Sound good?”
“How about JuJu’s? We’ll see if they still have those Reuben wraps.”
“Perfect. See you at noon.”
***
The next morning she got up early, squeezed in an extra long workout at the gym, and used the expensive body lotion she saved for special occasions. She’d just tried on outfit number four when the phone rang. “Hello?”
“Aubrey, it’s Ian. I can’t make it. Joshua is sick and I had to stay home from work with him.”
She checked herself out in the mirror. Her hair was looking way too good to cancel their date—their reunion. Their meeting. It was just a meeting. “You can bring him with you. I see babies out for lunch all the time.” A total lie, but surely babies could go out for lunch. They have to eat, too.
“He’s sick. I can’t take him out.”
“Then let me come to you. I’ll call in an order from JuJu’s and pick it up. Please? This is really important. And I’d love to see you. And your baby.” She tried not to sound desperate, but this was Ian George.
“You’re going to pester me about this until we sit down and have this conversation, aren’t you?”
She dug around her jewelry drawer for the perfect, dangling earrings. “You really know me, don’t you?”
“I do.” He gave her his address and she hung up slightly breathless. She’d have to compose herself better the next day and remember that Ian was a married man.
Aubrey rang the bell on the cute condo on Commonwealth, not far from her office, and gripped her clipboard. She steeled herself for whatever he was going to say about their relationship, but she wasn’t prepared for how good he looked when he opened the door. How had he become more handsome?
“Hey, you made it,” he said. His hair was a bit longer and his lean frame had filled out, making him look older, but hotter.
“I hope your wife doesn’t mind I’m stopping by,” Aubrey said.
Ian looked at the ground. “She wouldn’t care.”
“You didn’t mention I was coming here?”
“She’s in a meeting this morning. I didn’t want to bother her with our updated plans.” He blinked at her. “You look great,” he said, and then reached out for the seemingly mandatory, but awkward hug.
“Oh, thanks. You do, too.” She hugged him back, reminding herself not to squeeze a married man too tightly. Stepping out of the embrace, she held up the takeout bag. “Our lunch. Extra Thousand Island dressing for the wraps, of course.”
“Excellent. Come on in. Joshua is asleep right now.” He led her to the big, bright living room off to the side of the hall.
She followed, wondering if her mind purposely blanked out how broad his shoulders were. “When did you get married?”
He sat on the couch. “Last year.”
“Wow. You had the baby right away.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, we did.”
She sat next to him and set the clipboard on her lap. “What does your wife do?”
“She’s a realtor.”
“And you? Are you still in pharmaceutical sales?”
He pursed his lips. “Haven’t moved on to anything new yet.”
The easy banter they used to share was gone, she thought, sadly. She’d once called in sick to work because she’d spent all night on the phone talking with him. Now their conversation felt like an empty ketchup bottle—they were trying hard, but just barely squeezing out the words.
Damn. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Well, let’s get down to business.” She held out the clipboard and a pencil. “My therapist suggested I talk with my exes to find out what went wrong. Haven’t been too lucky in the love department, and I wanted to do something proactive about it. I want what you’ve got, Ian.”
He blinked at her, confused.
“The wife and baby. Well, a husband in my case,” she laughed nervously.
“I can’t imagine you’re having a hard time meeting men, Aubrey.”
“I’m having a hard time keeping men. And I want to know why.”
He stared at her for a moment and she wondered if he felt the same tension between them that she did. Was he remembering all the good times, too? “Sure,” he said. “I’d be happy to fill this out for you.” Their fingers swiped as he took the clipboard and a shock had Aubrey jerking her hand back.
“Sorry,” they both said at the same time, smiling at each other.
That’s when the front door opened, and a pretty blonde hurried in, dropping her purse and kicking off her heels in the front hall. “I slipped out on my break so I could check on Josh.” She looked up and her eyes widened.
Aubrey and Ian both stood up. Then Ian rushed over and put his arm around her. “Honey, what a surprise. What a big, big surprise to see you here. Joshua’s fine. Don’t you trust me with our son?”
The woman’s face showed no emotion as she looked over at Aubrey.
Aubrey waved. “Hi, I’m Aubrey. An old friend of Ian’s.”
“Old girlfriend, actually,” Ian said. “She is here doing some research on what went wrong in her relationships.”
“He’s giving me feedback,” Aubrey offered.
“Feedback,” Ian said, kissing his wife’s cheek. He looked at Aubrey. “I am so rude, this is my wife, Monica. Monica, this is Aubrey.”
Aubrey waved again as her heart pounded.
A wary smile cracked Monica’s face. “It’s nice to meet you. I was just surprised to see Ian had company.” Ian kissed her again on the cheek, and Monica pushed away from him. “Where’s Josh?”
“He’s sleeping. It took forever to get him down for his nap. Do not wake him up or, or there’s no nookie for you tonight.” He waved a finger at Monica.
“Nookie?” Aubrey asked.
“Nookie. She likes to call it nookie,” Ian said.
“I do not—my love.” Monica frowned, and then tiptoed up the stairs, while Aubrey and Ian sat down. Aubrey was certain her cheeks must be pink, like Monica knew Aubrey had been ogling her husband. “Do you want me to leave? I don’t want to upset your wife.”
“No, it’s fine. She won’t care. Let me look at some of these questions.” He read over the paperwork, smiling, even laughing at times. Then his face paled. “Some very detailed questions pertaining to the bedroom.” He blinked. “I don’t think we even did what you’re talking about in question thirty-five.”
She closed her eyes. Damn. They hadn’t, had they? “Just answer it the best you can. I need to know everything.”
Monica came back in the room and sat in a chair across from the couch. “What’ve you got there, Ian?”
He held the papers against his chest. “This is Aubrey’s questionnaire to figure out why she’s been unlucky in love. I’m supposed to dissect our relationship.”
Aubrey looked at her shoes and blushed.
“So, why did you leave her, Ian? She’s cute.”
Aubrey popped up from the couch. “I’m going to leave you two alone. Ian, just mail that to me as soon as you can. I know you’re busy with the new baby and all. And the wife. And the nookie.”
“Don’t let him fool you, Aubrey. There’s not too much of that these days,” Monica said through clenched teeth.
“Well, I’m sure he’s a great father. You’re lucky. I always considered Ian the one that got away.” Aubrey darted toward the door and could swear she heard Monica stifling a laugh.
“You didn’t even eat lunch!” Ian called after her.
But she wouldn’t be able to eat their favorite meal. Her stomach was too upset for that. That stupid saying about time healing wounds? It wasn’t true. There should be another saying about seeing your ex and his new family and having it sear a hole in your heart, cavernous and cold enough to store all the extra Lean Cuisines you buy when they’re on sale. She was a bargain shopper by heart, and old habits die hard, even when you find out you’re worth millions.
***
After grabbing a burger and fries at the drive through, Aubrey sat in the parking lot to regroup. The day was still young, her hair still look good, and five men remained on her list. When The Rolling Stones came on the radio, she belted out the words to Start Me Up and put her confidence back where it belonged, even though her heart was still out of place after seeing Ian and his new life.
Tilting the rear-view mirror, she freshened up her lipstick. Who should she call next? She narrowed her eyes. Who would put Ian out of her mind? “Dane Coleman,” she said to herself in a breathy voice, then smacking her lips. The hottest guy she’d ever dated. After checking her notes, she dialed the construction company he was working for and crossed her fingers.
Her pitch dropped down to her receptionist voice. “Is Dane Coleman in?” she asked the receptionist.
“He’s out at the jobsite, can I take a message?”
Aubrey summoned her urgent, important voice. “Um, yes. This is his veterinary office calling. We really, really need to speak with him about his dog’s procedure.” Schools and vets—Aubrey always patched them through, no questions asked.
“His dog? He’s got a cat.”
“Oh, yes. Silly me. I thought it was one of those little yippy dogs that look like a cat. How can I get in touch with him? It is quite important.”
“Oh, of course. Let me give you his cell number. Hopefully, he’ll answer”
Aubrey wrote down the number. “Say, is he working on that the project I’ve seen over on Newbury Street?”
“No, the one on Fairfield Street.”
“Ah, yes. Thanks.” Aubrey hung up, and decided to go right to the source and visit Dane at work before her makeup started getting cakey.
After pulling her hair back the way Dane liked it—then letting it down because screw him, he did dump her after all—Aubrey made her way to the site.
She parked across the street from the construction site and spotted a worker leaving the port-a-potty. “Hi, there. Do you know where Dane Coleman is?”
The man took his time looking her up and down and offered his hand. “I’m Dane Coleman. How can I do you? I mean, what can I do for you?”
“You’re not Dane. I used to date him. Can you tell me where he is?”
“That lucky S.O.B. He doesn’t deserve women like you.” The man shrugged and grinned. “Can’t blame me for trying.” He pointed to a trailer by the parking lot. “Should be in there.”
“Thanks!” she shouted over the beeping of a truck in reverse. She walked over to the trailer and took a deep breath before she knocked.
The door swung open and Dane’s eyes widened. Then he blinked. “Aubrey?”
She waved at him. “Hi, Dane. Can I come in for a minute?”
He scrunched his eyebrows then shrugged. “Uh, sure. Just for a minute, I’m expecting the electrical crew soon.”
She followed him into the tiny mobile office. “How have you been?”
“Good. Real good. And you?” He walked back behind his desk.
“Great! Super.” She hoped it sounded convincing.
He looked down at the papers spread in front of him.
“You need an accordion file for that, my friend,” she said.
He sighed. “Yep. That’s the Aubrey I remember. So, what are you doing here? Selling office supplies?”
“No.” She sat down across from him and pulled a packet of papers out of her purse. “I’m doing a soul-searching, relationship-investigation kind of thing, and I’m asking all my exes to give me some insight into what went wrong so I can have healthier relationships in the future.” She nodded, like this was something people did every day.
“Really?” Dane stared at her and she thought he looked handsomer than ever, but he didn’t send her heart racing at all. Not like Ian had. Bad Aubrey. Ian’s married.
“I have this fifty-part questionnaire for you to fill out and return at your leisure, but hopefully within a week.” She plucked an envelope from her purse. “And a self-addressed stamped envelope to return it.” She pushed the paperwork across the desk towards him.
He leafed through the papers, and then set them down with a sigh. “Aubrey, can I be honest with you?”
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”
He tapped the papers. “This kind of thing is why it didn’t work out with us.”
“What do you mean? I never gave you a survey. Well, a couple from Cosmo, but that’s what they’re there for.”
“You just tried too hard with everything.”
“What?”
He sighed. “We couldn’t just go out to dinner. You had to get online and look up reviews and see if you could find a coupon. Then you’d create a spreadsheet on the pros and cons of each option. And alternate driving directions for each location.”
“I didn’t want us to waste our time or money.”
“You never could be spontaneous.”
“I’m responsible.”
“Slightly anal.”
Her hands flew to her hips. “Well, you snore!”
Dane stood up. “Another reason it wouldn’t have worked—because you do, too. We would’ve woken our kids.”
She gasped. “I do not!”
He handed her the paperwork. “You might want to add it to your survey to be sure.”
She grabbed the packet from him and stomped out of the trailer. She stood there fuming, and then she stomped back up the stairs, flung open the door and tossed the survey on his desk. “At least fill out the part about the kissing. You always seemed to enjoy that.” And she slammed the door behind her.
She went back to the drive-through and ordered a milkshake. She was now officially glad Dane had dumped her. Once she felt better, she grabbed her phone to reach Lance Kwitoski. He was a teacher, she’d learned on her Internet search, and hopefully he could squeeze her in after class. She dialed the school and was put right through to his room.
“Lance Kwitoski,” he said.
“Hi, it’s Aubrey Carter.”
“Wow.” He laughed. “Blast from the past. Our high school reunion’s not coming up is it?”
“No. I wanted to get together and ask a few things. About us.”
“Us?”
“About why we broke up. I mean, why you broke up with me.”
“About why we broke up. Back in high school.”
“Yes.”
He left her waiting with a long pause, then said, “I guess we could meet up this weekend.”
“What about today? After school?”
“That’s in an hour.”
“Perfect!”
“Well…sure. I guess. Come on by.”
***
At 3:00 she drove up to the building where they both had gone to high school. Lance had been a health teacher there since he’d graduated from college. Hopefully, he was a better teacher than a student. She climbed the stairs to the second floor, past the posters for the Valentine’s ball. She’d gone to the prom with Lance and her heart ached just remembering that sweet rose corsage and her long, pink gown, and the way his hands had circled her waist as they swayed to their song; how she rubbed his back while he puked from drinking too much that night. She sighed. Lance was her first love and her first heartbreak. Images of those two memories swirled through her brain.
His door was open, so she walked in. He looked up from his desk and smiled. “I haven’t seen you since high school.”
“Crazy, right?”
“Wow. Look at you. More beautiful than ever.” He stood up and hugged her and she tried to remember why they did break up. He sat down at a desk and she sat next to him, pulling her chair closer to his.
“So, after all these years you wanted to talk about us?”
She looped her hands around her knees. “I just want to know what I could’ve done differently. Don’t worry. I’m asking all my old boyfriends.”
He laughed. “I don’t know. Could you have been ten years older? We were kids headed for college and it was too soon to settle down.”
“I wasn’t too overbearing?”
“No.”
“Whiny?”
“Absolutely not.”
She looked at him.
“Usually not.” He sighed. “Really, Aubrey, the timing was off. And it is again. I’m involved with someone.”
She scooted her chair away from his. “Oh, no. No. I wasn’t coming here looking to get back together.” She laughed nervously and pulled the questionnaire packet out of her purse. “I’m hoping you could fill this out to give me some insight on my strengths and weaknesses as a girlfriend.”
He reached over and took the papers from her. “You’re giving me an exit survey. Five years later.”
“I guess so. Think of it as homework.”
He shook his head laughing. “You always tried so hard at whatever you did. Even with us. You helped organize the damn senior prom just so you could make sure our song was the theme. That was crazy.”
She closed her eyes. “Rock Your Body, Justin Timberlake. Do you know how hard it was to push that through? They didn’t think it was romantic.”
“Rock Your Body is totally romantic. At least it was with you,” Lance said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She sighed. “It seemed like love at the time.”
“I know. But we were teenagers. I see it here everyday, all these young, love-struck couples, and you just know it’s not going to work out.”
She looked at the floor and nodded. “We didn’t really have a chance, did we?”
He tipped up her chin. “We were kids. And we had fun, didn’t we?”
Closing her eyes, she nodded, remembering what it was like to kiss him. Then she saw Ian’s face again. Ugh!
Lance stood up. “I’ll try to get this back to you, soon.”
She forced her biggest smile. “Super. That’d be great, just squeeze it in while you’re grading papers on family planning or hormones or whatever.”
“We’re on the communicable diseases unit.”
“Then I better hurry out of here. Thanks!”
***
That visit required a stop at the bakery. Three chocolate chip cookies later, and Lance and his brown eyes were forgotten. Plus, she needed the sugar rush to push on to visit number four of the day. Davey McDickson was up next. He was still in town, running his family’s funeral home and there would certainly be a viewing that night. How they managed to get anyone to lay out their loved ones at a place called McDickson’s was a mystery, but they still had billboards on the highway, so business must be going strong.
She drove to the funeral parlor at seven, and Davey was standing in the back of the room as a line of people waited to pay their respects at the casket. She walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder.
Davey jumped. “Aubrey!”
A few of the mourners turned to glare.
“Hi, Davey,” she whispered
“Hi.” His expression morphed from surprise to concern. He set his arm on hers. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She shrugged. “It was two years ago. I’ve moved on.”
“Excuse me?”
“Is my math wrong? Hasn’t it been two years since you dumped me?”
Davey took a step back. “You’re not here for the wake?”
“No. I just need a moment of your time to talk about our relationship. Why it ended.”
An old woman sitting nearby scooted over a seat closer to them.
He lowered his voice even more. “You crashed a wake to talk about why we broke up a few years ago?”
She nodded. “What went wrong?”
He pursed his lips and his eyes darted around the room. His voice came out in a hiss. “You signed us up for a weekend couple’s retreat after our first fight. About which movie to see. And we’d only been dating two months.”
She threw up her hands. “I wanted things to work out between us.”
“You were way too intense.”
“Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One was brilliant. I don’t know why you resisted seeing it.” She rolled her “r’s” for dramatic effect.
Davey wrinkled his nose.
“What? You thought it was funny when I did that. Then you’d say burrito and try to roll your r’s longer.”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”
Wrong guy. It had been Ian who appreciated her attempts at foreign accents. She grabbed the packet of papers. “Can you fill this out and mail it back to me?”
His eyes were wide and unblinking. “This is real life, isn’t it? I’m not just having a nightmare.”
“I forgot how much fun you were.” She handed him the papers and snagged a cookie and some punch before leaving. Tomorrow is a new day, she told herself as she drove home, certain that her meeting with Quinton would be much more helpful.
***
Aubrey slipped on her best shoes because she knew Quinton would be checking them out—if not trying to sneak off with them. Here he was the one with the foot fetish, and he’d dumped her. But Quinton had been so nice and romantic, taking her ballroom dancing and shopping. Seriously, how many guys do that? Well, Ian always danced with her at weddings, and carried her shopping bags at the mall—but Quinton had really seemed to enjoy it. She’d always thought Quinton had really understood her, but he just called things off one day with no good explanation.
She parked outside the café and looked for Quinton at one of the patio tables. He’d emailed her back that he’d love to see her, and would be waiting at a table outside the cafe. Checking out the customers sitting under the cheerful umbrellas, she didn’t see him. Her heart fell. Had he stiffed her? That sounded dirty, she thought, remembering they hadn’t even got that far in the relationship before he broke things off. Maybe he just hadn’t been willing to wait for the good stuff. Aubrey had always liked to take things slow. Well, except with Ian, but she hadn’t been able to help herself.
“Aubrey, is that you?” asked a woman
She looked over to the table where the voice had come from. A pretty woman sat smiling at her.
Cute hairdo, Aubrey thought. Kind of looks like mine. “Yes?”
The woman giggled. “It’s me, Quinton. But I’m going by Quinn now.”
Aubrey grabbed the chair in front of her. “Quinton?”
The woman smiled and nodded, then patted the chair next to her. “Sit, let’s talk.”
Aubrey walked over and dropped into the chair. Her heart was in her throat. This beautiful woman was Quinton—Quinn? “Wow. Look at you. Love that blouse.”
“I got it at the boutique just around the corner.”
“I’ve been meaning to go there.”
“We should go shopping sometime.”
Aubrey nodded. “Why not? I always did love shopping with you.”
They stared at each other for a few more moments. “Wow,” Aubrey said again.
“I know, I know. You can ask me questions later. But first, I’m dying to find out what has you tracking down your old boyfriends. This sounds so exciting, like a romantic comedy starring Emma Stone. Tell me all about it.”
Aubrey took a deep breath. “I’m just frustrated with my love life, and thought the best way to figure out what I’ve been doing wrong was to go straight to the source. My old…boyfriends.” She cleared her throat. “So, why did you break up with me? What did I do wrong?” Aubrey pulled out her packet of questions. “You can fill this out in private and mail it to me if you’re too uncomfortable to tell me.”
Quinn laughed and pushed the papers back toward Aubrey. “Oh, honey put that away. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not that I didn’t want you—I wanted to be you.”
“Huh. Is that why you took my shoes?”
“I wasn’t brave enough to buy my own yet. But you were just so sweet and pretty, and I’ve always felt there was a woman inside me just like that. And I knew when I wasn’t fantasizing about having sex with someone like you, something was wrong.” Quinn patted Aubrey’s hand, a flashy ruby ring glinting in the sun. “You tried real hard to make things work between us, but I’m sure you can see that was a hopeless cause. You helped me become the woman I was meant to be. Thank you.”
Aubrey set her hand over her heart. “I had no idea. You’re welcome.”
Quinn smiled at her. “I understand if you’re uncomfortable and would rather skip lunch.”
“No, not at all.” Aubrey shrugged. “I do have a few questions.”
Quinn folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. “About the process? The surgeries?”
Aubrey checked out Quinn’s impeccable manicure and shook her head. “No, I was wondering how you get your hair so shiny?”
Quinn patted her hair. “This great new conditioner. I’ll call you later and give you the name.”
“Perfect.”
The two of them spent the next hour talking, and then Aubrey got up to leave. “It was great seeing you Quinn. I’m glad you’re so happy with your new self.”
Quinn stood up and hugged her. “I’ve gotta say, I like you a whole lot more as a girlfriend than a girlfriend.” Quinn laughed. “Oh, you know what I mean. Good luck with that survey. Leave one with me and I’ll fill it out just in case you find something useful in my comments.”
Aubrey drove home wondering if she should be depressed that she prompted an ex to become a woman. Not many girls could hold that claim to fame, but Quinn had seemed so happy, Aubrey couldn’t help but feel happy—and hopeful, too. Maybe Aubrey would find her own happy ending when this was all over.
***
After cruising the mall and buying nothing, she went home and decided to call it a day. It was Friday night and she should have plans to go out and paint the town red. But the palette in her mind only featured dull, muddy shades. No red. No sparkles. All her friends had boyfriends, and calling her therapist to meet her at a bar would be a new low. Kyla had called to check on her, and Aubrey left a message telling her she was seeing an ex. Which was sort of true. She had seen some exes that week. Solo for the night, she made some popcorn and snuggled up to watch some favorite old movies and swoon over the happy endings. She couldn’t help but think of Ian’s happy ending and how she should be pleased for him. But she wasn’t. Not at all. She lay in bed thinking about the time they spent a week on the beach in Maine, and when they shared their first kiss on the swan boats at Boston Public Gardens, and how he’d always make her hot chocolate from scratch with a curl of dark chocolate on top. Did he do that for Monica, too?
***
Aubrey got up early Saturday morning for her trip to Vermont. Simon hadn’t returned her emails, but her Internet search had revealed that he’d just been elected mayor of the small town he moved to, and would be appearing at their Winterfest that weekend. This is not stalking, she told herself the entire ride there. She merely noticed he was making a public appearance and she was the public, right? She had every right to stop by and say hi, even if it was four hours out of her way.
She was prepared to hear whatever criticisms Simon had to share about her. He was ten years older than her. The oldest guy she’d ever dated. Maybe he had good insight into what went wrong—because something certainly had gone wrong. After he’d broken up with her, he’d refused to return her calls. Three years later, was he ready to reveal the truth?
She parked at the festival grounds and got herself a cotton candy and some hot chocolate as she tried to find Simon. Finally, she spotted him in the gazebo, shaking hands with his constituents.
He looked up, caught her gaze—and ran! The line of people waiting to meet him, looked over to see what had frightened him.
“Hello.” She waved her cotton candy stick at them, trying to act like it was totally normal that a grown man had just spotted her—and fled like she was a bounty hunter. Aubrey saw Simon run into a building hosting a craft show. She threw out her food and followed him inside. “Simon?”
He didn’t answer, but she saw someone standing behind a display of spring wreaths for sale.
“Simon, I know you’re there. I just want to ask you a few questions, then I’ll leave.”
He stepped out from behind the display. “A few questions. Of course.” He laughed in a semi-hysterical way. “That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Questions.”
“What do you mean?”
“See? Another question.”
She walked toward him and he grabbed a wreath, holding it between them like a shield.
“Are you going to attack me with that?”
“No. Just leave. Please don’t ask any questions.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Simon’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No,” she said.
“My election for the school board back in West Roxbury?”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m so sorry you lost. I tried to help.”
Simon set down the wreath. “I lost because of your help! You used video of me dressed up like a nun on Halloween, asking if voters wanted a school board member who wouldn’t put up with any nunsense. I was dressed in a habit holding a ruler, Aubrey.”
“I wanted it to go viral, get your name out there.”
“It did go viral! I lost the entire Catholic vote. I had to move out here just to get elected to a public office.”
Aubrey clenched her jaw. You will not cry, you will not cry.
Simon held up his hands and took a step back. “Please just leave.”
“I thought it was a clever idea. I wanted to help make it happen for you. For us.”
“And that was exactly the problem. It either happens, or it doesn’t. You can’t make a relationship work.”
She took the packet of papers out of her purse then crumpled them in her hand. What was the use? Every guy had told her the same thing—she tried too hard. She’d always thought that had always been one of her greatest strengths.
Simon looked around the room. A line of sweat was beaded above his lips. “Can you please leave? I’m going to be nervous that voters will demand a recall election until you’re out of the county.”
She forced a smile. “Thanks a lot for making Ian look even better.”
“Huh?”
Shaking her head, she tossed the packet in the trash, and went back to her car.
Her phone buzzed, indicating a text had arrived. Aubrey fished it out of her purse and frowned. It was from Kyla: “Stone and I want you to come out for dinner with us on Valentine’s Day. We’ve already made reservations for three.”
Kyla texted back. “Sorry, I can’t.” Kyla and her new boyfriend deserved a quiet, romantic night—alone.
***
When she got home from Vermont, she grabbed the pile tucked into her mailbox and went inside. Stuck in between the magazines and sales flyers were five thick envelopes. Since Simon wouldn’t be filling one out, everyone else had gotten back to her. She impressed by how quickly they’d filled out the questions. They probably had just wanted to get it over with.
She ripped open the first envelope and scanned the answers. She’d gotten a five out of five for kissing, four out of five for humor, and a two of out five for flexibility. I really should have clarified if I meant that in a physical or accommodating way.
By the time she got to the essay questions, she figured out this was from Dane, because it said the same thing he’d told her in person—she snored. Who knew he was such a liar?
The four other packets held few surprises—besides a report that she occasionally had a stray hair growing on her chin. What? This whole project left her feeling worse than when she had started. She called Diana and made an appointment for the next day and wondered if she should buy two boxes of candy to eat by herself on Valentine’s Day.
***
“How am I supposed to not try too hard? I’m passionate about things. Do you think I try too hard?” Aubrey asked Diana during her appointment after work Monday.
Diana choked on her coffee. “You do your best to make things work. Like with the survey. Gung-ho is a good description for you.”
“I thought gung-ho was a good thing. Wasn’t there a cartoon character named Gung-Ho Phooey?”
“I wouldn’t know about that. But gung-ho is a good thing. You just need to find someone who’s gung-ho about you, too. And then you won’t have to try at all, because it’ll just happen. The guys were right, though. Working hard isn’t going to save a relationship that wasn’t meant to be.”
***
Aubrey went home and grabbed the mail before going inside to drown her sorrows in chocolate syrup. As she flipped through the bills and ads while pouring Hershey’s syrup on a spoon and licking it off—a new personal low—she spotted an envelope with no return address. She ran her sticky finger under the flap and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
Sucking in a breath, she opened it and read the five short sentences typed out: “I wasn’t honest with you. You were perfect and it scared me. I still love you. I should have tried harder. I should have tried as hard as you did.”
Her heart pounded and she flipped the letter over. It wasn’t signed! Who’d sent it? Each of her exes had seemed happy with their lives and not at all disappointed they were no longer a couple.
She hopped off the couch and paced the apartment. Should she create a follow-up survey to find out who sent this? Or she could call them all again? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. None of them were right for her, except for Ian. And if it was him who’d written this letter, he was a jerk for sending it while he was married. She tucked the letter in the kitchen drawer where she stashed bills and appointment reminder cards she wanted to ignore.
***
The next day was Valentine’s Day, and Aubrey read the letter again and again whenever there was a lull in calls at work. After a torturous afternoon, signing for bouquets and balloons for her co-workers, she stormed home, crumpled the letter and threw it away. He probably thought he’d been nice sending that letter, but it only managed to reignite her feelings for him—and crush her heart once again.
She turned on the enormous Jacuzzi in her bathroom and got in, then unwrapped the giant chocolate heart Kyla had sent her. She fished out a coconut candy and wondered if she’d ever have the passion to work at a relationship again. Maybe the survey had been helpful—she’d certainly never try too hard again. She didn’t have the heart for it. The coconut candy slipped from her fingertips and disappeared under the bubbles. Bummer. Her favorite.
***
The next day was unseasonably sunny and warm for February, and since she had at least four thousand calories in chocolate to burn off, Aubrey decided to take a walk after work. She found herself heading toward JuJu’s and thinking of Ian, of course. It wouldn’t be so bad to have lost him to someone who really appreciated him, but his wife didn’t seem to love him like Aubrey would’ve loved him. His wife didn’t seem like she tried hard at all.
That’s probably how she got him.
Lost in her thoughts, Aubrey walked through the stream of people outside enjoying the day. She stopped when she got to JuJu’s and stared inside through the window. How many times had she and Ian come here? She’d always narrow her selection down to two choices, and Ian would order her second choice, just in case she didn’t like the one she’d chosen. They usually ended up splitting their meals and arguing over who’d take more than their fair share and whose was the best.
She sighed and looked down the sidewalk.
“Aubrey?”
She looked up and blinked. “Ian?” She would’ve thought it was a hallucination if not for the baby in front of him bundled up in a stroller. The little guy was cute, but he certainly didn’t have a guest role in her Ian fantasies.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“It’s a nice day. I’m done with work. I’m just taking a walk while it’s still light out. Is Joshua still sick?”
Ian was moving his mouth to say something, when Ian’s wife came out of JuJu’s. Aubrey heard the Wicked Witch of the West music playing in her head.
Monica took the stroller from Ian. “They can get us a table in fifteen minutes.” She looked over at Aubrey. “Oh, it’s you again.”
Aubrey tucked her hands in her pockets. “Yes, I was just out taking a walk and ran into Ian.”
“Isn’t that a coincidence,” Monica said. She shoved Ian. “And what did you tell her?”
“Nothing,” he said.
Monica narrowed her eyes at him. “You coward.”
Aubrey stepped forward. “Stop it! Why are you so mean to him? Don’t you know what a great guy you’ve got?”
Monica looked at Ian and laughed.
Aubrey clenched her teeth but she couldn’t hold back her words. “You don’t deserve him. Ian should have someone wonderful who cares about him. He’s smart and kind and funny and caring. And if you haven’t noticed, he’s hot as hell!”
Monica doubled over, laughing. “Oh, my god. I would stab myself to death with a plastic spork if I had someone like Ian. He never picks up after himself. He’s a lousy cook and clearly, he’s a chicken shit.”
Aubrey cocked her head. “What do you mean, if you had someone like Ian? He’s your husband.”
Monica burst out laughing again. “He’s my brother.” She turned to him. “Sorry, dude. Someone had to tell her.”
Ian’s face paled and Aubrey thought she might throw up. “You didn’t want me to know you were single? You were so desperate to make sure I wouldn’t be interested in you again you lied to me?” Her hands covered her mouth. “It wasn’t you who sent the letter.” She blinked back tears.
He just stared at her and Aubrey turned to run.
“Aubrey, wait!” Ian grabbed her arm. “That’s not it!”
She turned to him and glared, yanking her arm away. “Then why would you possibly lie to me about having a wife and child unless you didn’t want me to know you’re single?”
Ian scratched his head and looked up at the sky. “I didn’t want you to know I don’t have a job. And that I’m living at my sister’s place until I can get back on my feet. I’m embarrassed.”
Surprised, she sucked in a breath. “Are you serious?”
He hung his head. “It sucks, I know.”
She waved her hand in the air. “No, I mean are you serious that you thought I wouldn’t want you because your life isn’t perfect right now?”
“I don’t have much to offer,” he said.
She stepped closer to him. “I love—loved—you. It doesn’t matter what you do. I don’t know why you thought you had to get that promotion to prove something to me.”
“I was stupid. I thought I had to get my career rolling before I could focus on love. I needed to show you I could support us even without your money. But I put so much work into my career, and nothing into our relationship. Is it too late?”
“I’m going to puke,” Monica said behind them.
“Shut it unless you want to lose your live-in babysitter,” Ian said.
Monica pushed the baby stroller and stood in front of them. “Why don’t you two take our dinner reservation?” The sarcasm was gone from her voice. “Please. He’s been miserable since you stopped by. Take him off my hands for the love of God.”
“Could you possibly give me a second chance?” Ian asked.
Aubrey stopped smiling and took on her most serious tone. “That depends on how much of your dinner you share.” She looped her arm in his and headed inside the restaurant.
***
Three hours later, they’d left the restaurant and were back her place, sitting on the couch, chatting about the past and planning for the future. “I’ll help you with your resume. We’ll find another job for you,” Aubrey said. “You know we don’t have to worry about money. Not with my inheritance.”
“I need to work, Aubrey. I want to work.” Smiling, he put his arm around her. “And I’m sure you’ll help me figure something out. You have good ideas and you’re persistent.”
She looked down and knew she was blushing. “And I do have this big apartment if things get too crowded at your sister’s place. You could have your own room. But, it’s not like this is a new relationship. I say we pick up right where we left off.”
“No.”
She jerked away and balled up her fists. “See? There I go again, trying too hard to make it work.”
He pulled her back to him. “No, you’re perfect, Aubrey. I meant we’re not going to pick up where we left off, because I wasn’t giving enough to our relationship. We’re going to start off better than we were. I promise to try harder this time, Aubrey. I’m not going to lose you again. And living with you sounds great, if that’s what you want.”
She leaned in for a kiss then stopped and snapped her fingers. “We’ll set up a facebook page for you—Ten Reasons to Hire Ian.”
Shaking his head, he laughed. “I like it. But you know what I like better right now? Ten Reasons To Shut Up and Kiss Me.”
“Oh.” And she leaned in for a beautiful kiss that was the perfect blend of past, present, and the promise of a perfect future.
After a few moments, she broke off the kiss. “Hang on a minute. Let’s pretend today is Valentine’s Day. I’ve got an unopened box of chocolates to share with you. Will you eat the maple nougats? I hate them.”
“I’ll even eat the jelly ones you don’t like.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “Now that’s working hard for our relationship.”
***
The next morning at work, Aubrey called Diana to cancel their appointment. “I’m back together with Ian and happier than ever,” Aubrey told her. “I really think he’s the one. I hate to say it, but I don’t need your help anymore. Of course, we can gradually cut back on my visits if that’s easier for you. I feel like we’re breaking up.”
“You don’t want to see me anymore?” Diana asked.
Aubrey nibbled her lip. “No, sorry.”
“Sorry? Thank god. Now I can quit,” Diana said.
“Hey, I was kidding about that. You need to keep helping people. You helped me so much.”
“No, I’m really going to quit. I signed a book deal on finding love. I’ve been transferring all my clients to other therapists. You’re my last one.”
“Seriously? Congratulations! What’s the book about?” Aubrey asked, while Debbie, the other receptionist, shooshed her.
“You helped inspire it: An Exit Survey for your Ex: Learning from your breakups.” I hope you’ll let me interview you for it.”
“Of course!”
That earned another shoosh from Debbie.
“Great. But now that your love life is sorted, I do think we should talk some more about your professional life. You could be doing so much more.”
Aubrey stared at the dish of Skittles on her desk, aware of Debbie’s continued glare. “You’re right.”
Diana said nothing for a few seconds. “I am? You’re not going to fight me on this and insist you’re happy?”
Aubrey realized she was shaking her head no. “This whole process has helped me realize I worked too damn hard on finding a guy, but not enough on myself. Maybe I was using my money as an excuse.”
“And the student becomes the master.” Diana laughed and said goodbye.
Still smiling, Aubrey looked up the stairs to the second floor where the HR office was. She asked Debbie to cover for her for a moment, hoping she could trust her with the bowl of Skittles. She suspected Debbie fished out the orange ones when she wasn’t looking. Aubrey straightened her skirt, took a deep breath, and climbed the stairs.
She knocked on Barb’s open door.
Barb looked up. Surprise, she’s frowning.
“Come in. Is everything all right? Do you need more personal time?” Barb asked.
Aubrey started to twist her fingers in front of her. But she stopped, took a deep breath and said, “No. I need to know if there are any openings in the marketing department.”
Barb smiled. “It’s about time. Sit down. Something perfect just opened up for someone who works as hard as you do.”