AMANDA: And since you brought it up, Ms. Roberts, I heard a rumor that you know what his actual name is and that you’re even putting clues to it in something you’re writing about him. No offense, but I think the least you could do is tell me.
GILLIAN: You’ve been together with no-name a while now, haven’t you? Is marriage on the horizon?
AMANDA: Have you been talking with my mother?
GILLIAN: He’d have to sign his actual name on the marriage certificate, so you’d finally know it.
AMANDA: You have definitely been talking with my mother. Don’t you want to tell me what an exceptional man he is? Or where the hands point on my biological clock?
I have nothing against marriage—it’s just more frightening than crime. So complicated. So long! And Mackenzie and I—except for loving and liking each other—are totally incompatible. I am uncomfortable with the unpredictable life of a homicide cop and he has no qualms about it. All I can figure to do about that is balk, dither, and avoid. That’s my strategy. (But have you ever met him? He’s really cute and smart and funny and kind—and oh, that Southern accent. I probably don’t have a choice. Don’t tell my mother, okay?)
GILLIAN: If you didn’t have any constraints—economic, professional, or emotional—what would you do?
AMANDA: Probably the same as I’m doing now—but first, I’d take a year or however long and travel the entire world. I’d buy the sort of blank map of the world used in geography lessons and fill in each country as I visited it. I’d like to ride a camel and an elephant, and see animals in their native habitats, and be in cultures that are totally different from everything I know. I’d like to see all the places that made history, and have Mackenzie, the history buff, along. He’d be the best guide. I’d like to be in St. Petersburg for the White Nights, and see the Aurora Borealis, and swim with dolphins, and dance on the beach in Rio on New Year’s Eve, and—
GILLIAN: I think I’ve got the idea. This interview does have length constraints, so let’s move on.
AMANDA: No, Gillian. Let’s not. Because after I got back home, I’d like to take a year or two to write.
GILLIAN: Travel articles?
AMANDA: Don’t laugh, okay? I’ve always had a yen to write a mystery. I know it must be hard—all those twists and turns and secrets. But I’d like to try. In fact, given recent events, I could almost use my actual life as a plot—write a mystery about a Philadelphia English teacher. Write what you know—isn’t that what they say? Or is that idea just too farfetched?
GILLIAN: In truth, I think it’s been done. But don’t be discouraged. There are no new ideas, just new writers. Something like that. But from what you say, I take it that you read mysteries?
AMANDA: Well, of course. I read everything. When I was a child, I tried to read the library fiction shelves A to Z. I scrutinize the print on the cereal box if there’s nothing else around to read. But I’d prefer a touch of crime with my coffee. Mysteries are aerobic exercise for the brain. I love the puzzle, and trying to outguess the sleuth, and of course, the great characters and ideas. Guess I love everything about them.
In school, I have to maintain the stance my principal wants, which is “Upholder of capital L Literature.” Which means the books he read in school in his childhood. Which literature I, of course, adore—but when the kids are assigned a “free reading” book report, I’m happy to say that they dive into mysteries. So do I.
Someday, maybe, one of those mystery writers will be me … under a pseudonym, of course. Otherwise, Dr. Havermeyer would have apoplexy. Not that my headmaster’s bright enough to read mysteries! Not that he reads anything besides the bottom line.
GILLIAN: You know, I’m glad you’re a fan of mysteries because, actually, that’s what I write.
AMANDA: Oh. Sorry. I thought you were a reporter. You’re a mystery writer? Should I have heard of you?
GILLIAN: Never mind. Is there anything else you want to say?
AMANDA: Only that if by chance you are reading this, Dr. Havermeyer, she made me say everything. Honestly. Or am I sounding paranoid again?
A Fawcett Book
Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group
Copyright © 1999 by Judith Greber
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by The Ballantine Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Fawcett is a registered trademark and the Fawcett colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
www.randomhouse.com/BB/
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 00-190324
eISBN: 978-0-307-41672-8
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