Page 7 of Dear Debbie

When he asked me out, I almost said no automatically. I was so close to shutting him down. I wasn’t dating back then, but there was something in his eyes that changed my mind. Now, all these years later, I have no regrets—not about him anyway.

I wonder if he feels the same way.

I finally break away from the kiss with a twinge of regret. As much as I’m anticipating this photo shoot, a quickie with Cooper wouldn’t be a bad thing either. He always seems up for it in the morning, but neither of us have the time.

“You’re wearing my lipstick,” I tease him, gesturing at the smear of red that rubbed off my lips onto his.

He chuckles and grabs a napkin from the table to wipe it away. “Ken would frown on me showing up to work with lipstick on.”

That’s not saying much. His boss frowns on everything.

“So,” I say, “is today the day you’re talking to him about…you know?”

Cooper flinches. He has been working for Ken Bryant for a decade now, and he’s not getting paid nearly what he deserves. Cooper Mullen has many good qualities: he’s a good husband, a good father, and a damn good accountant. But his fatal flaw is that he’s not ambitious. He doesn’t want to strike out on his own, even though it would be more lucrative. He’s been feeling Ken out about the idea of a partner share in the accounting firm, and they’re supposed to have a meeting about it today. Hence the tie that he can’t figure out how to tie.

“Supposed to,” Cooper mumbles, not meeting my eyes. So much for feeling amorous.

I snatch the little piece of toilet paper off the nick on his chin, and he winces. “He won’t want to lose you. You’re amazing at what you do. Just tell him what you want, and I bet he’ll be happy to make you a partner.”

“He won’t be happy,” Cooper says, which is probably true.

“Still. Just make your case, and hold your ground.”

Cooper is saying something else, but I’m not listening, distracted by a glimpse of a truck driving by the side of the house. It looks like an electrician has arrived to help poor Brett. I sure hope the damage to his fuse box isn’t far worse than he thought.

5

COOPER

Debbie ties a perfect knot.

I’ve tied dozens of ties—no, hundreds—but whenever I do it, it looks like the handiwork of a small child. I don’t know what’s wrong with me; my dexterity is just lacking. But Debbie does it perfectly every time. It’s one of her superpowers, along with all those brightly colored flowers in the backyard that seem to appear out of thin air.

And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. My wife is good at everything she tries. She’s a genius: she’s created multiple apps for our phones that actually work. She writes them herself. I can barely figure out how to use most of the crap on my phone, and here she is, creating apps out of nothing.

Honestly, I wonder sometimes how she ended up in this life, married to a schlub like me.

“Just remember.” Debbie tilts her face up to look at me. I’d almost forgotten how hot she looks with makeup on. “Don’t ask for what you want. Tell him what you want.”

She’s talking about the partnership at the firm. She’s more confident than I am, which is because she’s never even met Ken Bryant. My boss has a very firm policy about separating home life and work life. We don’t have elaborate Christmas parties at the firm where spouses and children are invited and one of us dresses up as Santa. Ken gets upset if you even put up a photo of your family in your own private office. The guy smiles maybe two times per year—tops.

So no, I’m not confident about this meeting. Not by a long shot.

I can’t admit to Debbie that this meeting almost certainly isn’t going to go the way she hopes. The mortgage on our house is depressingly high, and the cost of living in our town is through the roof. Debbie makes some money at the paper, but I am the primary breadwinner. We need this boost in salary—badly.

But maybe she’s right. Maybe Ken will go along with it. He doesn’t want to lose me, after all.

“Confidence,” Debbie reminds me. “Now eat your cereal.”

I grin at her. “Yes, ma’am. But only because you said it with confidence.”

I settle down into the seat across from her to dig in. It’s this terrible fiber cereal she started buying a while back. I shove it down my throat, even though I hate it. I keep meaning to tell her to buy something that doesn’t taste like the cardboard box it was packed in, but at least it’s healthy. Judging by the way it tastes, it’s got to be.

While I eat, I rest my hand protectively over my pocket where my phone is nestled. I tried not to let on, but that unexpected phone call threw me off my game. How could she call me when she knows I’m still home, likely in the middle of breakfast. If Debbie had seen…

I don’t want to think about that.

I shove a few more mouthfuls of cardboard flakes into my mouth, and that’s about all I can stand. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and get to my feet. “I better get going. I don’t want to be late today. Let me just grab my lunch.”