The Buenos Aires Broken Hearts Club (30 page)

I give everyone the chance to order and introduce themselves to the people sitting beside them. When all the glasses are full, I stand up and wait until I catch everyone’s attention. A hush falls around the table. Every eye is on me. Some of these people will become friends; most I’ll never see again after tonight. I am in a country thousands of miles from where I started. I take a deep breath and begin.

“Welcome to the Buenos Aires Broken Hearts Club,” I say. The table erupts into cheering. “My name is Cassie.” More cheering. “But I guess you already know that.”

When the laughter dies down, I raise my glass. From behind the bar, where he’s training the new manager, Mateo raises a glass of water and smiles. I smile back at him, a founding if silent member, and begin.

“Here’s to the ones we love.” To my surprise, a chorus of voices joins in. “Here’s to the ones who love us. Here’s to the ones we love who don’t love us. Hell, screw them all, here’s to us!”

The table bursts into laughter and cheering and glass clinking against glass.

I let out a slow breath. I have come a long way. Thousands of miles, six months, one marriage proposal, countless good friends, an old plan, a new plan, no plan, a new business, a surrogate family, a man who loves me and believes in me, a man I love and believe in. I am unsure and unsteady and occasionally convinced I’ve gone insane because I don’t know what the future holds—and I like that more and more. Whatever comes, I’ll be okay. I have learned that even a life shattered into a million pieces can be put back together, better than new. I have discovered that I am brave.

As I sit down, a pretty brunette beside me leans in.

“I’m Kate,” she says abruptly. “Is that your boyfriend?” She points to the bar.

“I guess he is,” I say, smiling.

“Let me get this straight. You live here, run your own website,
and
have a gorgeous Argentine boyfriend?”

I nod.

“So, basically”—she leans in closer, her eyes lighting up—“your life is perfect.”

“Oh, Kate.” I burst into laughter. “What an awful thing to say.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Like my main character, Cassie, I spent several, shall I say enlightening, months in Buenos Aires. Unlike Cassie, I never had much of a plan before, during, or after that time—unless you consider tearing pages out of a guidebook and shoving them into my pocket planning. This characteristic lack of foresight might explain why I got married at twenty-two and divorced at twenty-eight (the only true casualty being my parents’ hope that I would ever settle down); why I got my Master’s in English Literature (anything to prolong entry into the real world); and why I’ve changed hair color more often than Sarah Jessica Parker (will switching to Carmel Golden Blond No. 63 actually change my life? I think so!).

Yet somehow, despite or perhaps because of the zigs and zags my path has taken, I’ve managed to end up at a fairly good place. Indeed, had I the foresight to make a plan I might very well have planned for this exact life. Okay, I’m unmarried, I still rent, and I don’t have a nine-to-five job. But on the upside, I’m unmarried, I still rent, and I don’t have a nine-to-five job. Which is to say, also like Cassie, I’ve found happiness in unexpected places. So here’s my hard-earned advice for those of you tottering along your own winding road: Be true to yourself whether you follow a plan, follow your dreams, or follow the cute cowboy in the red pickup. And always, always, do a strand test first.

TOP 5 TIPS

FOR
Female Travelers

1 Do not assume people in foreign countries don’t understand English. They will assume you are an idiot, and by shouting things like “Internet? Internet?” you only confirm their suspicion.

2 Do assume people in foreign countries will instantly dislike you for being a loud, brash American who shouts things like “Internet? Internet?” You can either prove them wrong or pretend you are from Uzbekistan or Canada or some other fake-sounding place.

3 Accept that you will forget your toothbrush, run out of tampons, and break the strap on your only pair of leather sandals; be grateful that these will likely be your worst catastrophes; and take a credit card with lots of room on it.

4 Say yes to the chicken bus. Say no to the street meat. A stay in the local hospital is not the adventure your travel agent was talking about.

5 There will be nights when you find yourself hungry or lonely or both. Keep a bar of very good chocolate on hand for just such emergencies.