All You Could Ask For A Novel - By Mike Greenberg Page 0,54

I loved that. I loved the feeling I used to get in my stomach before a big soccer game. I also played lacrosse, field hockey, a little basketball, but what I really loved was soccer, mostly because of the running. Basketball was about the dribbling, lacrosse was about the stick. Soccer was about the running, and I’ve always loved to run. When I was in high school, I was the best soccer player in Greenwich, and before our games I couldn’t sit still, I had to fidget with something all the time, pace the floors, run in place, and that’s how I feel now. I can’t sit still, I can’t keep my hands at my sides, so I’m packing my suitcases tonight even though I’m not ready to go anywhere.

It’s funny to see some of the things I brought with me. This was, after all, my honeymoon, at least it was when I packed. Thus the lingerie. God, it all looks so uncomfortable. Lacy camisoles, frilly undies, sexy thongs, plus three pairs of heels and fancy jewelry to sparkle over candlelit dinners. I haven’t worn any of it, not once. I’ve worn nothing but sports bras, tank tops, running shoes, and shorts. I wear jeans to dinner. Haven’t worn a dash of makeup, absolutely nothing, not even the night I had dinner with Eduardo. All the clothes and the jewels and the makeup look old to me, like ancient artifacts from a life that existed long ago but is now extinct. Who was that girl? What did she think? What did she want? Where is she now?

And where is she going?

That’s the question that really matters. I can remember who she was, and what I remember best is that she really didn’t know what she wanted. She liked her work but that wasn’t what her life was about. She wanted a man, and found one, and he turned out to be the wrong one, but even if he hadn’t he still wasn’t the answer. As I think hard about her now, I realize the girl who wore these clothes didn’t know what she wanted, mostly she was going about her life hoping that what she wanted would find her, and I realize now that was a mistake. You can’t just close your eyes and hope everything turns out all right. That’s a fine strategy for jumping out of an airplane, but it’s no way to conduct your life. In order to get anywhere you must first know where it is you want to go. Then you can figure out how to get there. So that’s my next move. Finish the race, go back home, then figure out where I want to go and make a plan of how to get there.

I had finished packing and was pacing again when I heard the knock.

A little smile crossed my lips. Finally, he had come. And I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to go to the door. I had wanted to all the time I had been here. There wasn’t any question in my mind about it. I walked slowly across the room, took a deep breath, opened the door slowly. And, once again, the man I found on the other side took my breath away.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said.

“Hello, Daddy.”

“You didn’t think I was going to let you do this thing all by yourself, did you?”

I put my face directly in the center of his chest and let him hold me, which he did, tightly. So much it was a little hard to breathe, but not enough that I wanted him to let go. Very few things in life are perfect. This was close enough. In a way, this was the best moment of my entire life.

KATHERINE

HAVE YOU EVER HAD an epiphany?

Let me tell you, it’s awesome.

I’m sure epiphanies come in all different shapes and sizes, like a religious statue producing tears or a painting seeming to breathe, and I’m sure there are horrible epiphanies as well, and I shudder to think what those must be like, because mine hit me like a ton of bricks and if it had been horrible I’m not sure I would have been able to handle it.

For me, it was a moment of clarity, a moment when I realized how much I have been my own enemy, and for how long. It was a moment when I finally understood what Dr. Gray has been telling me, and all the other therapists before her, about