All of Us and Everything Read Online Free PDF Page B

the commitment-avoidant mama’s boys of New York City—while sitting down week after week, flipping through the engagement announcements and never really seeing them for what they are? Gold!” Liv gestured like she was panning for gold. “See?”
    Mrs. Kwok stared at Liv. “What?”
    Liv felt the Adderall propelling her forward, her mind whirring decisively now, flitting above the Scotch like a clipper ship. “This is a directory of men who are capable of asking a woman to marry them. Period. A directory, Mrs. Kwok.”
    “But they are getting married to someone already, right?”
    Liv shook her heard. “This brings me to (B).” She walked Mrs. Kwok down the row. “These men are in a vulnerable position—dibs have been called but they aren’t yet off the market.”
    “Dibs?”
    “Don’t ask questions right now. Okay?” Liv paused and stared at one couple, the man’s arms wrapped protectively around his fiancée’s shoulders. “And (C). Look closely.”
    Mrs. Kwok squinted at the photograph.
    Liv pointed to the man’s bright and yet terrified smile. “These are the faces of men under the most stress of their lives. They want out. Look at them.”
    “He looks happy to me,” Mrs. Kwok said, pointing to the man’s teeth.
    “He isn’t. None of them are. Their fiancées have changed on them almost overnight. Before the engagement, they were happy and content. These men are being forced to make decisions and no one cares about their opinions. They’re being railroaded into buying things they don’t want to buy, arrange people’s seating in ways they don’t want to arrange, pick from samples of food they don’t want to eat, list their friends in a hierarchy, cut cousins off lists. They’re spending more time with their in-laws. Look, Mrs. Kwok. They’re dying inside. These are photographs of desperation.”
    Mrs. Kwok shook her head.
    “What? You don’t believe in the quiet desperation of weddings?” Liv picked up
The New York Times.
It usually contained the best contenders, and she’d been saving it for last. She spread one of the pages open on the floor. “Do you see all of those eyes staring up at you? Might as well be looking at dogs in the animal shelter. They want to be saved, Mrs. Kwok. We all just want to be saved.” She thought of the conversation with Esme and felt guilty. Esme wanted to be saved too. From what? Who knew? She had a perfectly good life, constructed in a very purposeful way.
    Liv stared down at the faces. She was dizzy—drunker than she’d thought. The faces swam around like fish trapped in an indoor pond. She put her bare toes on the edge of the newspaper, hoping to pin it down.
    And there she saw a face she recognized—a woman with wide eyes, curly hair, a crooked smile.
    Liv knelt down, spread her hands on the floor, and read the names aloud: “Clifford Wells and Ruby Rockwell.” She hadn’t thought about her sister Ru in a long time. She was a novelist who also adapted her own work into screenplays, a hit cult-fave whimsical romantic comedy—and totally ripped from Liv’s own life. Liv had never forgiven Ru for using Liv’s life as material—thievery—a point Ru seemed oblivious about.
    Liv and Ru hadn’t seen each other in years. Ru had surrounded herself with creatives, and Liv didn’t care for artsy types. They didn’t appreciate the things that Liv appreciated. The last time she’d been at a party with Ru’s friends, a German woman had gotten naked and let people write on her body—for free. Liv didn’t understand it. Why not at least charge a nominal fee? That didn’t make it stripping. And even stripping could be deemed art. Moreover Ru ignored the whole scene and was talking about an old children’s book about a duck named Ping or some shit.
    “You okay?” Mrs. Kwok asked.
    Baby Ru was getting married? How was that possible?
    The notice referred to her as
the acclaimed novelist and screenwriter whose hit film—
Trust Teddy