Ian
Mason called me to help haul away a couch. I wasn’t worried about running into Em because Abby was currently mad at me. She wouldn’t allow Em within a kilometre of me.
When would I see Em again? Maybe at hockey next season. Em wouldn’t ever come to one of my games again, but of course she’d watch Lucas’s. Would she root for me to lose or not care? Even the thought of pasting Lucas against the boards didn’t make me feel better because that would hurt Em. And I never wanted to hurt Em. She’d only done nice things for me. Sure, she was really smart, but she was easy to please. She liked to give to others and be appreciated. She’d make a great wife—for Lucas.
I backed into the driveway and opened up the tonneau cover. My big thermos was in the back corner. When we went skating on the canal, Em had filled it with a weird chai drink that I ended up liking. All the little things she did which made me feel trapped before were what I missed most now.
“Thanks for coming,” Mason greeted me at the front door.
We wrestled the old sofa out of the house. Abby closed the door behind us, without a word to me.
Mason shook his head. “Sorry about that. I’m sure she’ll come around soon. Abby gets so passionate about stuff.”
In this case she was upset with me for hurting Em. I respected her for being a good friend, but couldn’t Abby see that Lucas was the better match for Em? Even if Abby hadn’t liked him.
“Are we going to the dump?” I asked.
“No, Smitty wants the couch.” It was a pretty ugly couch, but Smitty was getting a new place, so he must have been hard up for money.
I pulled out of the driveway. Suddenly a memory of New Year’s Eve popped into my head. Arriving here for the party and seeing Smitty and Carl. Em rushing up in her purple dress—so happy to see me. Although that didn’t last long.
I missed Em. I wanted it all: Em kissing me goodbye, Em coming to my games and talking hockey afterwards in her cute way, Em making lunch for me, Em complaining about work, Em making me watch romcoms. And sex. Was sex ever going to be fucking awesome as what we had?
“Are you thinking about Em?” Mason asked.
Jesus, if Mason could tell how I was feeling, it must be really obvious.
“Yeah. I miss her.”
“Well, what are you doing to get her back?” he asked.
“I broke up with her. I can’t give her what she wants.”
“She’s not back with Lucas, if that’s what you think she wants. She never wanted that.” Mason inhaled sharply. “Oh no. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”
Abby and Mason were like the world’s worst dam—things were always leaking out of them. Which meant Em must know how pitiful I was these days. But if she hadn’t gotten together with Lucas yet, maybe she never would.
“I can’t give Em what she wants,” I repeated.
“Why not?” Mason asked. “You knew that someday you were going to find a woman you wanted to settle down with. I can remember exactly what you said: ‘I’ll know because she won’t want to have anything to do with me.’ That actually fits your relationship with Em to a T.”
His perfect memory could be a huge pain in the ass. “I was tossing the b.s.”
“I know you were kidding, but it had a grain of truth in it. You don’t think highly enough of yourself.”
“Now, that’s bullshit,” I said. Self-esteem had never been my issue.
“You’re confident when it comes to your work, your hockey, and most women. But for some reason, when you finally meet someone you could settle down with, you think she’s too good for you.”
“She is too good for me.” That was clear to anyone on the planet.
“That’s up to Em to decide. You’re my best friend, Ian. That’s because of everyone I’ve ever known, you’re the best person. You’re loyal, you’re sensitive even though you pretend not to be, you’re hard working, and you’re smart. Apparently, women find you attractive, although I don’t get that part myself.”
I tried to smile at his joke. “Things are good with Em when it’s just the two of us, but there’s this whole business world she belongs to that I could never be a part of.”
“Honestly, I don’t even understand some of the stuff that Em does. All you have to know is enough basic stuff to ask intelligent questions. Em’s happy to explain her work.”
“Yeah, but I can’t even ask intelligent questions.”
“You could learn. I’d be happy to help you. My dad could help too.”
I wasn’t excited about that possibility. David Harrington had some big government job in foreign trade. Whenever he spoke, he sounded like he was lecturing me.
Mason continued, “An economy is like running a hockey team. You have to manage the salary cap, so you can’t sign Crosby, McDavid, and MacKinnon, or you won’t have money left for the rest of the team. It’s about scarce resources.”
“So, like playing the franchise mode in the EA NHL game?” I knew this stuff, but I never thought of it being economics.
“There’s terminology, of course, but you could learn that.”
I thought of the invitation on my dresser. It was the ticket to Em’s big awards lunch, and I’d never given it back to her. “Do you think I could really fit into Em’s world?”
“Could you have ever predicted that I would be able to tell the difference between a kitten heel and a platform sole?”
“Are you talking about shoes? I have no clue,” I replied.
“I rest my case. For someone so style challenged, I know a lot about fashion now.”
We got to Smitty’s new place and dropped off the couch. He offered us beer, but Mason was all excited about Project Make Ian Smarter, so we took off.
We drove to the Carleton University bookstore. We started looking for books on economics, but there were so many that it was impossible to choose. Most of them had so much jargon that they didn’t even seem to be written in English.
Mason sighed. “Here’s what I think we should do. I’ll get a copy of Em’s paper, and we’ll focus on understanding that. Meantime, let’s get this.”
He handed me a book that looked like it might be aimed at kids with charts and photos. I exhaled in relief. “Thanks, Mase. This looks like my level.”
“Hey, don’t underestimate yourself. I know you don’t read much, but you’re a really smart guy. Your job means you’re constantly working with math and physics.”
“It’s just calculations.”
“No. It’s 3-D modelling—just like what I do virtually, but you do it in your head.”
“Look, I know I’m not a dummy, but Em is so fucking smart. And she notices everything. It’s kind of scary, actually.”
“Yes, but Em doesn’t need someone as smart as her. She needs someone who appreciates all the sides of her.”
Was that really enough? I did get what Em needed.
Mason’s face was solemn. “I don’t know why you think you deserve to be alone. You’re an amazing person.”
“Cut the crap, bud.” I hated this kind of discussion.
“An amazing person who has trouble accepting compliments.” He smiled and smacked me on the shoulder.
I felt hopeful now. I liked action, and now there was something concrete that I could tackle.