Page 6 of No Such Thing as Serendipity

“Maybe I’ve been doing you a disservice all these years—supporting you no matter what. Perhaps it’s time to try a different tactic.”

“And that would be what? Kick me when I’m down?” I knew it was unfair, but I’d had about enough of her challenging me.

“I prefer to think of it as holding up a much needed mirror.”

“And what am I supposed to see in this mirror of yours?”

“That you’re not happy.”

“Yeah. I’m unhappy that I lost my job.”

“And your girlfriend.”

Ouch. Did she need to bring Marta into it? “Her loss.”

“And Mom.”

Now she’d crossed the line. “This conversation keeps getting better and better. So Mom dying was my fault, too.”

“No. I didn’t say that. I said you weren’t happy.” She looked toward the ceiling and spoke as if reading from a book. “The more you seek to control external events, the less control you will have over your own life.”

“Thanks, Confucius. That makes me feel so much better.” I lifted my hand to the ceiling. “I see the light. You have saved me.”

“Epictetus.”

“What do epic titties have to do with anything? Although, I could go for a pair right about now.” I silently applauded my clever retort. I knew Epictetus was one of the Greek philosophers Emma taught in her advanced placement classes, but since she’d irritated me, I wanted to return the favor.

“Joke all you want. The truth is, you need a different path. You have the means, so don’t let the opportunity pass you by.”

I didn’t need her philosophical bullshit. What I needed was another job—and a girlfriend. There wasn’t anything I could do about our mother’s death, but the rest was a temporary setback. With due diligence and the advantage of the research I’d been doing, I’d be back on my feet by next month.

“It’s time to let go. Stop trying to control everything all the time. Let serendipity work its magic.”

I snorted. “There’s no such thing as serendipity. I make my own serendipity.”

“Spoken like a control freak.” Emma rose from the table and snatched up the empty mousse bowls. I hadn’t even noticed that she’d polished off both desserts. “It’s time for me to leave and let you think.”

I stared at her retreating back. Just like that, she’d ended the conversation, but I wasn’t having it, so I jumped to my feet and followed her into the kitchen.

“Okay, Epic Titties, what do you recommend I do?”

She kept her back to me as she rinsed the bowls in the sink. “Let go. Stop trying to control everything.”

“How do you propose I do that?” I wished she’d turn around, so I wasn’t talking to her back.

Her shoulders rose and fell several times before she turned. “Four weeks. Give me four weeks.”

“To do what?”

“To help you find a different path.”

I rolled my eyes. “You going to make me read poetry and philosophy?”

“Four weeks,” she repeated, ignoring my snark. “You make no decisions. I make them all.”

“What?” My face had to have shown my revulsion at her suggestion.

“You heard me. You control nothing. Let me be your serendipity.”

I smirked, thinking of the absurdity of her suggestion. “So I have to call you to ask what I should have for breakfast?”

Emma shook her head. “You won’t have to call me. I’ll be with you.”

I narrowed my eyes and stared at her. “Are you and Andrew having trouble? You’d live here?”

“No to both.”

“Oh, no.” I raised my hand and backed up. “I’m not going to move in with your family. I love them, but I’m not living with teenagers.”

Emma laughed. “Sometimes I don’t want to live with teenagers, but that’s not what I’m suggesting, either. You and I take a sister vacation.” Emma put her thumb against her own chest. “But I choose the destination. I choose everything.”

“Wait. Aren’t you going to Europe again this summer?” For several years, Andrew led the Summer Study Away program for his college. It had been such an overwhelming success the college ran a lottery for a spot in the program.

“I was, but this is more important.”

Even though I wanted to unleash a sarcastic comeback, the sincerity of her response held me back. “I don’t think Andrew would agree. Besides, you need to keep an eye on Curtis and Elena.”

“They hardly need a babysitter.”

True. Curtis was nineteen and Elena seventeen, so they didn’t need their mom to keep track of them. “Still. Andrew won’t go for it.”

“He loves you.” Emma moved toward me and put her hand on my arm. “We’ve been worried about you for some time.”

How pathetic was that? I lived in a penthouse apartment in New York City making more money in one year than they made in ten, and they pitied me.

Emma squeezed my arm. “Stop,” she said, as if reading my thoughts. “We want the world for you. For you to be happy and fulfilled. He wouldn’t think twice about giving his blessing.”

I shook my head. “The sentiment’s sweet, but I’ve got a handle on my life.” Was it true? My color-coded spreadsheet said I did, so why did I feel so lost?

“We leave for Europe in two weeks. In fairness to Andrew, he needs to know if I’ll be with him, so I need a decision by next Friday.”

I waved my hand at her. “Nothing to think about. You go with your family.”

“But you’re my family, too.”

“I’m fine. You worry too much. This is just a blip.”

“Just like Marta? Just like Mom? How about Auntie Bess?”

I glared at her.

“Face it, Blake. Everything is a blip to you. You just forge ahead with a one-track mind. Check off another box in your notebook. But life isn’t that simple.”