Page 143 of The Boyfriend Goal

The letter whispers to me the whole time I’m at Frieda’s house. It taunts me, saying I’m here. But I focus on meeting Wesley’s dad for the first time and Frieda for the third time. Even though we’ve of course already met, Wesley re-introduces me to her saying, “Like I said, this is my girlfriend.” And Frieda is cordial to me for the first time ever. Wesley’s father is friendly enough too, but I love Wesley’s sister immediately. She welcomes me with open arms, and so does her girlfriend and their dog. But I think about the letter my mom gave me the whole time. I don’t dare open it until I’m home and safe. Hours later, after we’ve driven back from Sonoma and pulled into the garage, I’m desperate to rip it open. I told Wes about it on the drive up and told him, too, that I was going to wait.

We go inside, take off our shoes, and head straight to the living room. I fish the letter out of my bag, and it’s like I’ve slipped out of time, like I’m floating above my body as I stare at the envelope one more time.

It’s not often that you get a letter from the next life.

“Do you want me to leave so you can read it alone?” he asks, his tone gentle.

I shake my head. “I want you to stay.”

He squeezes my hand then lets go.

I close my eyes, breathing in the quiet stillness on Christmas night. When I open them, I slide my finger under the flap and read.

My darling Josie,

By now, you’ve finished the list. Knowing you, you’ve probably researched it thoroughly. Done your homework. Studied every single item. Am I right, baby? Or am I right?

Of course I’m right because I know you, and I hope after taking on this top ten list you know yourself a little better—the person I’ve been so lucky to know for your whole life. A woman who’s funny, kind, bold, bright, caring. And maybe now, a little more daring.

You might be wondering why I left this list for you. Was it a way for us to stay connected once I’m gone? Is it a way for you to honor my memory?

Please.

It’s none of those things.

I gave this to you because I’ve lived exactly the life I wanted. So much of that is because of the one thing I did that’s at the top of my own list of no regrets—spending so much time with you.

You made me so very happy in this life, and, I’m sure, I’ll carry that joy with me into the next one.

With so much love in all our lives,

Greta

I don’t know how long I cry. But it’s long enough to go through a whole box of tissues, to turn my face red and splotchy, to soak through Wes’s shirt with my salty tears as he holds me and strokes my hair.

But they’re happy tears. Or maybe they’re the happiest. The kind that only come once you’ve made it through the sad moments and come out on the other side.

50

THAT SAID

Josie

The library’s open the next day since lots of patrons like to hang out with books they can borrow during the holidays. As Wes drives me to work—he’s seriously the best chauffeur with or without a shirt—my phone pings with an email. The envelope icon winks at me on the top of the screen.

A promise, full of hope. It’s from the library in Petaluma. “This might be it,” I say, then I tell him who it’s from.

“Open it right now,” he says as he pulls up in front of my little library and turns off the engine. I only have a few more days here.

I click on it, and it takes all of three seconds for my heart to sink.

It’s the “that said” in the email.

It’s one of those turns of phrases that means a rejection is coming. We enjoyed the interview with you immensely and you were one of our top candidates, but that said, we had many exemplary candidates for the information specialist role. We wish you the best in your job search.

I hate that I want to cry.

“You’ll get the next one,” he says, reaching for my hand and squeezing it.

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