I switch off my phone and sit down on the edge of the sand, slightly shaded by a tree. I feel so helpless, stuck here in 1996. I want to talk to future Ed and get reassurance that we’re fine.
At least I only have to wait for an hour.
Around 6pm, I start to feel drowsy. I lie down, using my bag as a pillow and hope that if there is another Anna who takes over after I leave, she isn’t too freaked out about waking up here.
Back in the present, I feel more lost and lonely than ever. I sit up in bed and look around at the room. It’s always been just as much my space as Ed’s, and I can feel his overwhelming presence everywhere I look. His clothes hanging over a nearby chair…the scent of his hair product lingering on the pillow next to me…the ghost of what I thought were happy memories, but which now feel slightly tainted.
My phone is lying next to me on the beside table. I’ve had no missed calls.
I dial Ed’s number. He shouldn’t have left for work yet, but it just rings out and goes to messages.
Damn him. Why can’t he be who he led me to believe? I always thought my husband was a quiet person, someone who considered things seriously and never tolerated silliness. But now I know that he used to be light-hearted and fun. Was it his mum’s passing that changed that? Or something that happened with Maddie? I wish I knew.
I go out into the study and sit in front of my computer. I don’t know why, though. Ed doesn’t believe in social media. He doesn’t have a Facebook account and he isn’t even registered on LinkedIn, which is unusual for someone who works in a corporate office in the city.
It’s not like I can see if he’s friends with Maddie online. I look through my own friend list on Facebook and see if there’s anyone who would have known Ed back when he was a teenager.
It’s a shame I’m not closer with his dad. We got along pretty well in the beginning, but over the last few years, Ed has distanced himself from him, because his dad has a bit of a drinking problem. As a result, I have also had less contact. It wouldn’t feel right calling him out of the blue. Or would it?
And then I see a guy called Ty in my list. I remember that he went to school with Ed. I’d unfollowed him a long time ago due to his prolific posting about Isagenix supplements. We only became Facebook friends in the first place because he was getting married and wanted to get in touch with Ed to invite him to a boys’ weekend.
I gingerly open his profile, ready to face the onslaught of spammy marketing posts. Ugh. Yep. He’s still at it.
Is it worth risking being promoted to?
Yes, it is. This is my marriage in crisis. I need to have all the information if I’m going to make any major decisions about my future.
I reluctantly send him a private message.
Hey, Ty. I know this is kind of random, but do you remember any of Ed’s ex-girlfriends?
He doesn’t answer immediately, so I pace around. I don’t have much housework to do and I’m not hungry, so I flick on the TV and half pay attention to a cooking show. I normally like watching that kind of stuff, but today I don’t find any enjoyment in it.
This is ridiculous. My life was good before. Why did I have to go and mess with it?
After almost twenty minutes, I hear my laptop beep. I cover the ground between where I am and the study in one flying leap.
My heart races as I read the reply.
LOL. Why?
I’m going to have to come up with a plausible excuse. Um…
Me: I have some weird chick messaging me on Facebook who claims she knew Ed in high school and wants to catch up on old times. I just wanted to know what I’m letting myself in for before I agree.
Ty: Oh my God! That’s hilarious. OK, I only knew of one real girlfriend. Her name was Maddie.
There it is. Proof that she’s a real person and not a figment of my imagination.
Me: And what was her last name?
Ty: Mcfeeley. I only know because we used to make jokes about it. So is it her?
I roll my eyes. This guy is a class act.
Me: Oh! Ed just got home. Sorry, I have to go! Thanks for the info!
Ty: No worries. Say hi for me.
Me: Will do. Bye.
I let out a deep breath between pursed lips. I guess that means I am literally travelling back in time.
I shiver.
Now that I have Maddie’s name, do I want to take this any further? I hope Ty doesn’t contact Ed to let him know I’ve been digging into his past. Maybe I should have gone back to 1996 and asked someone there instead.
But I’m starting to wonder if I should use the compound again at all. It’s brought me nothing but heartache so far. And now that I know everything is real…
I type Maddie’s name into Google and click on Images. No one that looks like her comes up. Maybe it’s short for Madison.
A quick search disproves that theory.
Hmm. Maybe Madeline?
Bullseye.
I know it’s her straight away, even twenty years on. She’s like Will Smith and doesn’t seem to have aged at all. In fact, I think she looks even better now.
My hands shake as I click on her photo and follow the link to the website it belongs to.
It’s a fancy media agency. Maddie is the CEO.
I know immediately Ed would love that. He likes that I cook, because it means he doesn’t have to, but he has never really respected my job. I think he secretly thinks it’s unfair I make money from doing something I enjoy.
My heart sinks as I read her bio. There’s not a single thing on there that would make me think Ed wouldn’t be impressed.
I write her an email, mentioning that I might be interested in rebranding my website to attract more readers. I’m not sure what I’m trying to achieve, but I need to do something.
Just before I shut down my email program, I notice a new message from my supplement company.
Hi Anna,
We are happy to hear you received our latest batch of supplements and hope you are able to use them in one of your fantastic recipes. However, we are a little confused as to what you mean by ‘youth compound’. We don’t have a product by that name and hope you haven’t opened it yet. We advise that you send it back immediately so we can look into its origin for you.
Please let us know if you have any further questions.
Regards,
Pam – Marketing.
I don’t know what to do with this information. They don’t know what it is? What if the compound was doing some sort of long-term damage to my brain? I could end up like those people who have bad acid trips and turn partially psychotic for the rest of their lives.
Except I don’t feel any after-effects from taking it. It kind of worked exactly as advertised. And it did have the company’s logo on it, which makes it even weirder. I suspect Pam in marketing might not know every product in their range.
That has to be it.
At least that’s what I’m going to tell herself.
Any other option is too frightening to contemplate.
***
Ed doesn’t call me back all day. Normally I would be a little put out that he’s too busy to phone his wife, especially after our last conversation, but part of me needs some time to process and think about what I’m going to do next. If Maddie gets in touch tomorrow, I might arrange to meet her. I don’t know what I would say, but I always have the excuse of talking about my business. I guess I’ll just wing the other stuff.
I sleep restlessly and dream about 1996 again. But this time, I know it really is a dream. Everything is disjointed, and I see flashes of Kelsey and a young Ed down at Shell Beach. Ed’s face morphs into Kurt’s, and I wake up feeling guilty.
I feel like I should spend some time out and about in the present day, reminding myself that I have an actual life outside of my husband and work—but just as I’m contemplating a trip into the city, my phone beeps with an email notification.
It’s Maddie.
Hi Anna!
Thank you so mu
ch for getting in touch! I’ve followed your work for a couple of years now and I absolutely love your recipes! I would be honoured if we could meet to discuss some tweaks to your branding. You’re already doing really well, so I wouldn’t change anything too dramatically. As it happens, I have an hour free around ten if you want to meet for coffee? I’m a little obsessed with Jocelyn’s on James Street. Let me know if you can make it.
Maddie.
I gulp. Okay. I know I could just ignore her invitation, but I feel like I’m on a trajectory I have to see out. I won’t be able to relax until I get the full story.
I quickly write a reply, thanking her for making time at short notice, and tell her I’ll meet her in a few hours.
This is really happening.
***
I feel slightly ill as I near Jocelyn’s Patisserie. This is the final chance for me to back out and pretend like nothing ever happened. But of course, it’s already too late for that. I know things I can’t unlearn and I need to hear it all.
I take a deep breath and push open the door to the café.
I look around. She’s there, sitting at a small table in the corner. We make eye contact and she smiles. I sit down opposite her.
“Hi, Maddie. I’m Anna.”
“I figured,” she says, gently teasing. I don’t want to like her, but I do. She has a quiet confidence and charisma that I can imagine would make her quite popular. “Would you like a coffee? I was just about to order one.”
“Oh, no, let me. What would you like?”
She stands up. “Don’t be silly. You’re the potential client. It’s on me.”
“Uh, then maybe a double shot espresso?”
She laughs. “A woman after my own heart. I’ll be back in a sec.”
I watch her head over to the counter and order our drinks. I know this probably won’t end well, but it’s like a scab I can’t leave alone.
Maddie returns and puts the two coffees down on the table. “So, you’re looking to rebrand?”
“Uh, yeah. As you said in your message, I’m doing okay already, but I haven’t revamped my image for a few years and I read somewhere it’s good to do that.”
“Well, only if your existing branding isn’t working. Say, if you wanted to reach a different audience or reposition yourself with a different focus, then you should do it. But despite being the CEO of a media agency, I’m a big believer in not fixing something that isn’t broken. With that said, how are your web visitor figures? Are they increasing? Decreasing? Stagnating?”
“I guess I get about a dozen new followers on Instagram each week. My web traffic is pretty stable. I have decent interaction on Facebook.”
“Good.” She opens a notebook and starts writing notes. “And you have a sponsor, so I guess they provide the majority of your income?”
“That’s right.”
“They’ve never expressed any displeasure with their ROI?”
“No. I send them a report each month with all the stats. They seem happy.”
“What about your book? How’s that going?”
“Wow, you really do know my business,” I say, smiling.
“That’s my job. To be honest, I usually delegate these kinds of meetings to my account managers, but I’ve always liked your stuff and wanted to meet you personally.”
Damn it. She’s too nice for her own good.
“That’s very sweet of you to say. Well, to answer your question, the book is doing all right. It’s through a publisher, so they take care of everything and send me a royalty cheque every few months.”
“Have you ever thought of indie publishing?”
“Not really. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“I have a guy in the office who knows the ins and outs of Amazon. If you’re interested, I can introduce you to him and you can have a chat. It might be a good way of developing further passive income. And you’ll be able to keep more of the profits. You already have a huge fan base, so the bit that most people find difficult is already done.”
“Sounds good.”
She takes a sip of her coffee. “As for your website, I don’t know if you need to do much. Maybe tweak the colour scheme a little? Metallics and pinks are in at the moment. Also, maybe add in an identifying mark that you can carry across all your marketing? You don’t really have a logo, so it will help more people remember you if you have an icon of some sort.”
“That’s a good idea. I take it you have a guy who can help me with that too?”
“Yep.”
“Thank you.”
I hadn’t actually expected to take the business side of this meeting seriously, but I quite like her ideas.
“I bet you work long hours as a CEO,” I say.
“I probably do. But I don’t notice anymore. I love my work.” She doodles on her notebook. “My husband used to hate it, though.”
Here’s my chance. “Used to?”
She sighs. “We split up about five years ago.” She then covers her mouth with a hand. “Sorry, I don’t know how we ended up talking about my personal life. Ignore me.”
“No, no. That’s totally fine. I’m sorry to hear about your marriage.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time coming. He wanted to start a family, but I wasn’t ready.”
“Ah. Yeah, my husband and I don’t want kids either.”
“Oh, I do want them, but there was something stopping me then. I suppose if I’m being honest with myself, it was that I wasn’t ready to have kids with him. I know we were married, but sharing a child seemed more final. Like our lives would be linked forever if I got pregnant, even if we split up.” She laughs. “Wow. I never talk like this to my clients. Do people ever tell you you’re really easy to open up to?”
I chuckle. “Sometimes.”
“I guess I feel like I already know you from following your blog.”
And I already know you from meeting you in 1996.
“I like that,” I say honestly.
My heart starts racing. This is it.
“The reason you didn’t want kids…was there…someone else? Feel free to not answer that if it’s too personal,” I say, half-joking.
She’s quiet for a second.
“Not in an affair kind of way, no. But yes, there was someone who seemed to overshadow my relationship with my husband.” She suddenly focuses on me with laser-beam accuracy. “Do you feel like your husband is the best man you’ve ever been with?”
Until recently I would have said yes without hesitation. But after finding out what I have…
“I do,” I say, deciding I don’t need to complicate things. I’m glad I retained my maiden name for business purposes so Maddie won’t be able to make the connection.
“See, you’re lucky. I feel like I messed up. Or the universe messed up. I met my soulmate just after high school.” Her eyes glaze over. “He was so sweet. I felt like we were especially made for each other. I don’t know if it was teenage hormones or not having the weight of the world on our shoulders, but life was so easy and fun. I know that sounds silly and I’m sure everyone has a first love they look back on fondly, but I really thought I would end up with mine.”
“What happened?”
Her face goes dark. “His mum died. I wanted to support him and make sure he was okay, but he shut me out. I knew he was hurting, so I gave him space when he needed it, but I also tried to stop him from falling into that void.”
“You couldn’t?”
She shakes her head slowly. “We didn’t break up right away, but it wasn’t the same after. He started drinking heavily and getting into fights with people whenever we went out. He never seemed to notice I was even in his presence. In the end, he broke up with me. I told him to take some time to sort out his head and that I would wait, but he insisted we cut ties permanently. I think he was trying to protect me, rather than himself.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She looks at me again. “I always wondered what happened to him. I tried lo
oking him up on Facebook, but he doesn’t have a profile. I couldn’t even find him on LinkedIn or anywhere else online.”
“Some people don’t like social media,” I say.
My husband is one of them.
“Yeah, but it makes it difficult to get closure, you know? If I found out he was happily married with a bunch of cute kids, then I could move on. But not knowing…”
This is the moment where I tell her everything. Only I can’t.
“You never know what the future holds,” I say. “You might meet someone else just as good.”
“I don’t think so,” she says, resigned. “I guess I just have to be happy with the memories. Some people never find that kind of love. At least I had it for a short while.”
I suddenly feel awkward. I sip my coffee and wait for Maddie to collect herself.
After a moment, she becomes business-like again. “Anyway, we should get back to the reason you’re here.” She rummages around in her purse and hands me a tasteful business card in light blue and grey. “Here are my details. I’ll talk to the guys in the office and we’ll come up with a proposal for you. But feel free to contact us in the meantime if you have any ideas you want us to consider.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate you meeting me here.”
“No. Thank you.”
I stand up and half wave as I try to exit the cafe as naturally as possible.
It’s only after I’m outside and have walked up the street and turned the corner into a narrow alley that I start to hyperventilate.
I don’t think I wanted to know any of that after all.
SIXTEEN
For the rest of the day, it’s as if I’m in limbo. Ed and I need to have a serious talk when he gets home.
He finally arrives just after 7pm. I’ve made him his favourite dinner, which is mushroom risotto, and I’ve poured him a glass of white wine so we can start the evening off as gently as possible. Especially considering we haven’t spoken since Tuesday morning when we argued.
He comes through the door holding a bunch of lilies. His expression is suitably apologetic, but I don’t know if it’s because he knew he was being harsh when we last spoke, or because he hasn’t been in touch since.
1996 (90s Flashback Series) Page 12