Page 167 of The Love Haters

But I didn’t give up making videos.

I guess there are many industry people among Jennifer Aniston’s infinite followers, because I got so many offers to collaborate and do projects in the wake of her post that I had to get a manager. Of all things.

As we speak, I’m working on a documentary about shipwrecks for HBO.

When I’m not doing my scuba lessons, of course.

RUE TURNED OUTto be a medical team’s dream.

She did everything they suggested—times ten.

They told her not to do any exercises that involved holding her breath, so she started walking laps in the pool instead of swimming. She bought one of those motivational water bottles marked with encouraging phrases likeTime to hydrate!andHalfway there!andGet quenched!She cut out all alcohol and switched to virgin sangrias. She started a morning walking group with The Gals, reduced her sodium, bought a cookbook calledOne Hundred Salads, and started going to bed before the double digits.

And it all seems to be working.

Really, to sum up: she’s doing great. She made the absolute most of that diagnosis—and she’s grateful for the reminder to be grateful.

We all need those once in a while, I guess.

But as far as I can tell, Rue and her lady friends do a better job of appreciating their lives than anyone I’ve met. Their days might get busy like everybody else’s, but they gather at sunset for dinner almost every night—cooking out and then eating and chatting in the breeze until it’s time to turn in. They look after each other, they keep each other company, and they crack each other up in waves. They’ve taken my understanding of friendship to a whole new level.

COLE IS ALSOdoing fine, for the record.

He and Sully really did start dating. She’s ten years older, and at least twenty years wiser, but for some crazy reason, it’s working. And we’ll never know if it’s just a coincidence, but it certainly seemed like the intensity and pace of her corporate restructuring seemed to ease in the wake of Sullivan’s trip to the keys. Maybe that was the plan all along. Or maybe Sully and Cole both found something they’d been looking for with each other.

Did fighting with Hutch solve everything for Cole?

Nah.

He was self-focused and competitive before, and that’s still true after.

But something shifted that night—no question. He no longer talks about his brother asall exterior, no interior. He no longer picks fights with him, or looks for reasons to be angry. Maybe he goes easier on himself now. We all have parts of our pasts that we keep contending with, over and over.

I don’t know what shape time itself is, but I know our minds move through it in spirals—returning over and over to the mysteries that hook us, to the questions we’ve never been able to answer, to the pieces that don’t quite fit. It’s the same questions, over and over—and the only thing different is us.

Cole learned something new about his life that night. The old question got a new answer. It didn’t change his personality, but it did change his story of his own life.

He’s nicer now. That’s true.

And being nice has a lot of upsides.

Now, when Cole comes to visit Key West, he brings Sully—and The Gals converge around her like a flock of birds-of-paradise, while the boys go off fishing. Or to play pinball. Sometimes, Cole tries to join Hutch for his morning workout, until he gives up halfway through and collapses, splayed out in the grass, to recover.

Mostly, Cole and Hutch play in the Starlite pool like they’re kids. They set up a water polo net and talk The Gals into forming teams. Plus, they’re working on a whole compendium of nutty ways to jump into the water. Old standards like cannonballs, jackknifes, and forward-flips made the list, of course—but also made-up moves like the switchblade, the Hammer Time, the corkscrew, the Air Jordan, the flying squirrel, the break-dancer, and the hallelujah.

Cole still complains about Hutch being too perfect—but now it’s in a jokey way.

Mostly.

Before, he could only see his brother from the outside, as some two-dimensional antagonist. But one hard conversation—one peek inside Hutch’s perspective—was enough to flip on a switch of empathy that never flipped back off.

So, yes, Hutch is still perfect. But in a relatable way. In a human way. In ajust trying to get through life the best we canway. Cole can’t oversimplify him anymore. And something about that just deflated all his anger like air out of a balloon.

I think it put an end to the lying, as well—at least, as far as I can tell.

Before the big talk, Cole really had told a disturbing number of lies for an adult person. It left me wary of him for a long time—like, was this guyjust a liar? Was that just how he lived his life?

But maybe it was situational.

---