Page 46 of Good at Being Alive
“Fine, it was alreadyinthe ground. But that doesn’t change my point: What is it you think I should have done instead?”
I shrug. “Put it on the market? This is a decent neighborhood. With new carpet and paint, you’d do okay on this place.”
Her smile fades. “Yeah. I just…” She tugs at the frayed blanket in her lap. “It just doesn’t seem right. I mean, they had this whole life, and the least worthwhile member of the family shouldn’t get to come in, wipe it from existence, and sit on the cash.”
“Least worthwhile?Bex, what the fuck?”
She looks at me, sighing. “You know it’s true. You said as much when we spoke last spring.”
“Ineversaid you were the least worthwhile member.”
“No, you said, ‘Your father works his ass off, your mother runs a charity, your sister is in law school, and you’re in jail for threatening a horse. What does that tell you?’ ”
I did say that. And I remember now that yes, I’d thought she was that one kid in every high-achieving family who decides to pursue performance art or fashion design and winds up doing nothing. Or goes to jail for threatening to punch a horse.
And none of it was true. Not a single fucking thing. What’s more appalling is that with all that talent and all that charm and intellect, Bex should have thrived but floundered instead. Jessie clearly wanted it that way, but why the fuck did Rick allow it to happen?
“Bex,” I say hoarsely, running my hands through my hair. “I was wrong about you. A lot of people were wrong about you. And I’m still trying to figure outwhywe were all so wrong but…if one person in this household was going to survive that crash, I’m glad it was you. And I think, perhaps, it was meant to be you.”
I’ve thought this—that she was saved, that she was meant to survive—for a while now. Perhaps it’s because she shines so bright. Perhaps it’s just that I can’t imagine my world without her init.
She blinks back tears. “You’re incredibly sweet when you’re not being a prick.”
Every bone in my body wants to cross the room to give her a hug, something I’m definitely not doing when she’s dressed the way she is. I lean back instead, throwing my phone on the ottoman in front of me. “I’m never sweet, and I don’t say anything I don’t mean, which is how you can be certain it’s true. Except”—Inod at the massive book open on the table—“please tell me you weren’t reading a fucking encyclopedia tonight. That thing’s got to be twenty years old.”
She shrugs. “I was trying to see how they characterized our relationship with the USSR at the time of its writing, and I just kept going.”
Only she would look anything up in an ancient encyclopedia andjust keep going.I fight the part of myself that loves this about her. I’m never getting married, but that’s exactly the sort of quirkiness I’d want in a wife if I did.
“Bex…maybe instead of reading an encyclopedia, you should be thinking about the future a little? The show is going to end and yes, you’ll have money, but will that be enough?”
She stretches out fully and stares at the ceiling. “I read this book once where they surveyed the happiest countries and the most miserable, and you know where it said people are supermiserable? Dubai. Primarily that the native population doesn’t have to work at all—it’s like an entire country full of people who’ve won the lottery, and the lack of purpose makes them miserable. Isn’t that fascinating?”
“I’d think you’d find it instructive more than anything else.”
She rolls toward me, hitching a shoulder. “The thing is, you have to be interested in something or competent at it to have a purpose, don’t you? I’m not interested in anything, nor am I especially competent at anything.”
“Give me a break. Are you interested in gamma-ray lasers?”
She shrugs. “Well, yes, but they’re pretty amazing because—”
“Are you interested in downregulation? Reynisdrangar? Amsterdam during its shipping heyday in the sixteen hundreds? The answer is yes, to all these things. You’re interested ineverything,and you seem to have a photographic memory, so it basically comes down to you just deciding what job you’dlike.There’s not a job on the bloody planet you couldn’t do.”
She tugs on her lower lip. “Is sleeping with rock stars a job? If so, I’m willing to take that on, though I don’t see how the photographic memory will serve me.”
My eyes narrow and my irritation is not entirely feigned—Iam her husband, after all. Even if it’s fake, I don’t need to hear that she really wants to bang multiple rock stars. “Bex.”
She throws back her head with a throaty laugh, my new favorite sound. Every time I groan her name like that she’s delighted. I have no idea why.
“I guess you could teach me how to manage the office here so you don’t have to lose years of life due to jet lag.”
“You would hate managing the office and the woman we’ve hired is getting up to speed anyway. But if you’ve got this time free while we’re filming, I wish you’d spend it figuring out what your purpose is or what you’re interested in.”
Her mouth opens.
“Other than banging rock stars.”
Her mouth closes.
