Page 6 of Promise Me Sunshine

“Fine then, Wise One. Lay it out for me. How. How am I supposed to come back to life after…”

“Oh, come on, complainer. Where’s that happy-face T-shirt I bought you? You think that was ironic? No way. Life is for the living, yadda yadda.”

“Easy for you to say, butthead. You’re the one who won’t have to go through all the after.”

“OMG! I just came up with a brilliant idea for a T-shirt slogan. Ready?”

“Hit me.”

“Life is what happens during the yadda yadda.”

“We’re going to be rich.”

“Right?”

“…”

“…”

“You really have no idea how to live again on the other side of this? Like, seriously? No ideas?”

“Not one.”

“Okay, fine. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll make it so easy. The easiest. We’ll make it multiple choice.”

“My life?”

“Yeah. We’ll make a list. All you’ll have to do is check the boxes. Pick task, perform task, reclaim your joie de vivre.”

“A list for living again?”

“Bingo.”

“Look, yes, you’re my best friend. You obviously mean well. I know I’m not easy to be around sometimes. But…can we just not talk about this? Trying to imagine living again. Living without—Can we just not talk about this, please?”

“We’re making the list. If you want to throw it in the garbage afterward, that’s on you. Where’s my pink pen?”

“I can’t stop you, can I?”

“Item number one on the Live Again list: fall in love with a gorgeous man who is obsessed with you and is, like, a fireman or something.”

“Wow, you even wrote the ‘or something.’ ”

“There should be a little wiggle room to increase the odds of it actually happening.”

“ ’Kay. Got it. Gorgeous man. Should be easy.”

“Atta girl. Item number two: wear ridiculously ugly clothes and pretend that they’re expensive ugly, not cheap ugly. Then eat amuse bouche and go underbid on outrageously priced art.”

“Unless ‘amuse bouche’ is a fancy word for ‘chili dog,’ I don’t want it.”

“Fine, just the art, then.”

“The Met?”

“Always…I bet your mom would let you wear your grandma’s vintage fur coats.”

“Fine! But I want one of those little Jackie O hats where the lace comes down over your eyes.”

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