Happier Than She's Ever Been...

by Menna Van Praag

  May stared at Rose with tears in her eyes.

  ‘And every time you have the courage to stand strong in the face of your fears, to stay together and keep loving each other through the growing pains,’ Rose told her, ‘you’ll be rewarded with the greatest gift of all.’

  ‘What’s that?’ May asked.

  ‘Well, the ultimate purpose of your soulmate,’ Rose explained, ‘is to give you the gift of unconditional love. Firstly by loving you before he really knows you, and then by loving you after he knows everything. Of course, he’ll only be able to do that if you do it too. For it is one thing to love yourself when you’re happy, peaceful, joyful and calm. It’s quite another to still love yourself when you’re sad, angry, upset and stressed. And you, my dear May, you still have this to learn. And, if you let him, Ben will help teach you how.’ Rose smiled her most magnificent smile and her little blue eyes twinkled with compassion and love. And then she disappeared.

  May awoke, her heart beating fast, palms sweating, her T-shirt sticking to her chest. She blinked in the darkness trying to catch her breath. She glanced over at Ben sleeping soundly, a little smile on his lips. In that moment May had the urge to cling to him and never let go. In the next, to leap out of bed, run and never look back. But instead she remained still, then slowly sank back into her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. For the next five hours, until the sun came up, May wondered over and over again whether or not, when the time came to it, she would have the courage to stand strong in the centre of the circle of fire or if she would get burned.

  FEAR

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Ben asked, as May sat down on the edge of the bed and handed him his morning cup of coffee. He held her gaze as she looked at him. For a moment May almost said something, almost told him everything. But she was scared, of so many things. Of Ben thinking she was crazy, of creating conflict, of losing what they had together. So instead she shook her head.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ May said, ‘and I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’ Ben kissed her, knowing something was up and hoping May would tell him when she was ready. He didn’t want to press her, didn’t want to push her away. So, in that moment, as they both suppressed their feelings instead of speaking up, their relationship was knocked a few degrees off course. But the shift was so subtle that neither of them even noticed what was happening.

  That afternoon May cleaned. It was an old habit she had when she wasn’t expressing herself, though she wasn’t really aware of it. She set to work on the bookshop, hoovering the floors, dusting the shelves and rubbing the books’ spines with a tea towel. She’d made it halfway along the third shelf of the Astrology, Astronomy & Alchemy section when Ben hurried in through the front door. May glanced up, feeling the now familiar surge of happiness she got whenever she saw him. Though this time she also felt a tiny undercurrent of trepidation. She should talk to him, tell the truth, be honest – just as Rose advised. And she would; she just didn’t have the guts to do it quite yet. ‘Hey, you’re early.’

  ‘The guy didn’t show,’ Ben said, referring to a source who sometimes supplied him with second-hand books. ‘He gets good books, but he’s a bit of a feckless bum.’

  ‘Are you trying to be a Brit again?’ May raised an eyebrow with a smile and walked towards him.

  ‘Yep, I’m learning your ways,’ Ben teased, ‘the self-deprecating wit, the self-flagellating false modesty, the condescending sarcasm…’

  ‘You forget our innate and effortless superiority,’ May added, laughing, ‘especially to all things American.’

  ‘Oh, is that so?’

  ‘But of course.’ May smiled as he stepped close to her and slid a single finger down the front of her shirt, grazing the top of her breasts.

  ‘Well then, I think it’s time you taught me some of your superior skills,’ Ben whispered into her neck. ‘I might still have a lot to learn.’

  ‘Yes, you might,’ May breathed as his tongue followed his fingers. ‘Oh, Ben, no, not here. We might scandalise a young child, scar it for life.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Ben gave her an impish grin. ‘Why – are we going to be very naughty?’

  ‘Not here, we’re not,’ May said in teacherish tones.

  ‘Okay then.’ Ben leapt over to the door, turned the lock and the ‘Closed’ sign over, rushed back and grabbed May’s hand. ‘I think it’s time to go upstairs.’

  ‘Okay,’ she giggled, wondering if it was possible to love someone more than she loved Ben.

  They lay together in bed, the late afternoon sun falling through the windows and warming their bare skin. Words danced around May’s mind, forming and reforming, trying to explain something she didn’t quite comprehend, to describe a feeling she’d never felt before, to articulate a fear she couldn’t put her finger on. But everything between them still felt so nearly perfect that it seemed silly to upset it for the sake of something half-imagined and half-understood.

  As he looked at her Ben knew this was the moment to ask May what was wrong. And May knew it was the moment to tell him. But both were too scared to cause cracks in the closeness they’d so carefully and lovingly created.

  ‘I love you,’ she said.

  ‘I love you too,’ he said.

  Afterwards they dressed, had dinner, then watched a TV show to distract them from the silence and separation that was, by now, just a little bigger, just a few inches wider, than before.

  May took the next day off from the bookshop and, leaving Ben painting the walls of the Magical Mystery section bright yellow, set off downtown to give a book reading in a little café. The owner, a regular customer of Ben’s, had invited May along to entertain her customers one afternoon and May, extremely flattered at the offer, had said yes.

  The Tea Cup was a sweet coffee shop that reminded May a little of The Cocoa Café. Light pink-and-white-striped wallpaper lined the walls, and creamy soft sofas and chairs were scattered across fluffy carpets. It was, May thought, rather like walking into a bowl of multicoloured marshmallows, and she loved it.

  The first time May had done a book reading at Ben’s bookshop – suggested and organised by him – she’d been dragged to it kicking and screaming. Not literally, but almost. Although May had really wanted to connect with other women, to tell them about her experiences, about what she learnt about life, love and weight-loss, and to help them if she could, she’d also been terrified that no one would show up, or only one person would, thus making her humiliation public, or that many people would arrive but they’d all hate it and boo her off. As it was, seven women came along, each clutching a copy of Men, Money and Chocolate, and they’d listened closely while she talked about her life, asked May for advice on theirs and clapped with great enthusiasm at the end. When she saw their faces at the end, full of renewed hope for love and excitement for life, May was absolutely touched and delighted. She’d found her calling, her way to give back to world, to say thank you for everything she’d been given.

  Today about thirty people came, filling the little café to the brim. They crowded onto the sofas and comfy chairs and even spilled onto the carpets. They were all drinking coffee, eating cake and holding her book in their hands.

  ‘Hello, welcome.’ May smiled, stepping through the crowd to the back of the café where a chair awaited her. ‘It’s lovely to see you all here.’ As she sat May waved to Alice, the owner, who stood behind the counter serving customers. She smiled and waved back, nodding an invitation to begin.

  ‘I’m really honoured you all came, and even bought my book.’ May grinned, still amazed that people actually bought something she’d written and sold all by herself. ‘So, well, while you’re enjoying Alice’s yummy cakes, I thought I’d read you the first chapter of my book. I do hope you like it.’

  Twenty minutes later everyone in The Tea Cup was clapping and May was beaming. She signed books, smiled, spoke individually to everyone, gave them advice and help when they asked for it, and wondered how on earth her life had wor
ked out this way.

  She could hardly believe that it was less than two years ago that she’d been so unhappy she could barely get out of bed in the morning. When she’d sat in her own café, devouring croissants in a guilt-laden frenzy, desperately wondering why she couldn’t win a battle of wills with a chocolate fudge cake and trying not to sob at the sight of her cake-rounded belly under her apron. When every day she’d tried to impose a strict diet on herself, and every day she’d succumbed to temptation. When she’d tried to write, to find fulfilment in words, but couldn’t find the time, energy or creativity to do anything more than simply get through her day. When she’d been in love with the tall, blond and heart-stoppingly gorgeous Jake, the one she pursued even though she knew he could never love her, and the one she drove away with her neediness and desperation.

  She couldn’t believe that now, despite what Rose had warned, all that was behind her and now she was actually able to help those going through the same things she’d finally triumphed over. Such was May’s delight, such was her gratification at touching the lives and hearts of all these women, that it eclipsed her worries about Ben and her dream with Rose. And when she’d finally finished chatting to readers and thanking Alice, May decided to hold onto the feeling of gratification and use the focus of helping others to push all her fears aside. Which, she was rather surprised to discover, wasn’t too hard at all.

  ‘Hi, honey, I’m home,’ May called out as she stepped into the flat. An almighty crash came from the kitchen, and what sounded like the entire contents of the pots and pans cupboard clattered to the floor. Ben ran out of the kitchen, skidding along the wooden floors and colliding with May as she closed the door behind her.

  ‘Wow, what’s up?’ May smiled at him as he danced from one foot to the other, looking into his big brown eyes lit up with excitement.

  ‘I have amazing news,’ Ben exclaimed, ‘absolutely amazing news.’

  ‘Oh?’ May asked, wanting to kiss him. ‘What – what is it?’

  ‘Sit down.’ Ben took May’s hand and led her over to the sofa. ‘You’ve got to be sitting down for this.’

  May followed, wondering what he was so excited about, wishing the moment would last forever and almost believing that it could, no matter what Rose had said. May sat while Ben stood in front of her, clasping her hands and jumping from one foot to the other. She gazed up at him expectantly and suddenly Ben stood perfectly still.

  ‘May,’ he said softly, ‘I think I’ve found you a publisher.’

  May paced up and down the pavement outside The Tea Cup, where she’d arranged to meet the publisher for coffee and cake. Not that she’d be able to eat a single thing. Her stomach was rumbling now and May wished she could shut it up, but she was so nauseous with nerves she couldn’t.

  It had taken a moment or two for Ben’s words to sink in. They’d hovered in the air like hummingbirds, fluttering bright and beautiful, far too fast to hold. But the beating of their wings echoed in May’s ears and finally she’d been able to focus and listen to his story. The woman had walked into Ben’s bookshop that afternoon, and they’d started to chat about books: their favourites, the ones they’d read at least ten times over, the few they’d never finished. At some point in the conversation Ben had boasted about May’s debut work of self-published fiction and was delighted to discover the woman had already read and loved it.

  ‘Well, it does have a permanent post in the window,’ he’d said, smiling at May, ‘and I do promote it at least once a week.’

  ‘Yes, yes, you’re wonderful and amazing and the very best boyfriend in the whole wide world.’ May grinned. ‘Now, what did she say next?’

  Ben explained that the woman ran a small company: Insight & Inspiration Publishing, dedicated to books she believed would help transform the world, ‘or at least the hearts and minds of those who read them.’ And she thought May’s could be one such book.

  ‘She wants to meet you tomorrow,’ Ben had said, ‘if you’re free.’

  ‘If I’m free?’ May had squealed, jumping up and down on the sofa, while Ben laughed. ‘If I’m free?’

  They’d danced around the living room and when she’d finally stopped squealing May had given Ben deep, soft kisses that lasted long into the night.

  May glanced at her watch and stood still. She was still twenty-three and a half minutes early, and if she kept marching up and down the pavement she’d pass out before the publisher even arrived. So, deciding to go inside, sit and try to calm down, May opened the door and went in.

  ‘I’m here to meet a real live publisher,’ May explained to Alice, who stood behind the counter, cutting a cake.

  ‘As opposed to a fake, imaginary one?’ Alice smiled, handed her a slice of hazelnut chocolate cake that May knew, given the still topsy-turvy nature of her stomach, would go horribly to waste.

  ‘Well, there have been a fair few of those, believe me,’ May said, remembering her old life and the endless hours daydreaming and fantasising about one day being published. Fantasies that, of course, also included marrying Jake and being able to indulge in vast quantities of chocolate cake without putting on a single pound.

  ‘Take the table next to the window,’ Alice suggested. ‘Sit in the chair next to the wall. It’s lucky. A lot of very fantastic things have happened to people sitting in that chair. It’s had more than its share of marriage proposals, let me tell you.’

  ‘Really?’ May asked, wide-eyed, her heart quickening as she thought of Ben. They’d never talked about that, though she thought about it, hoped for it often enough. She was nervous about the subject that might follow it though: children. When her mother died May developed a fear of becoming a mother herself. She worried that she wouldn’t be enough, that she wouldn’t know what to do and how to do it right and, since she wouldn’t be able to go to her own incredible mother for help, she might scar them for life. And that she couldn’t quite bear.

  ‘Yep.’ Alice handed her a cappuccino. ‘And now the chair can have its first ever book deal. How cool.’

  ‘Oh, well, I don’t know about that,’ May mumbled, desperately trying not to get her hopes up too much in case they were soon to come crashing down in disappointment. ‘I hope, I wish, but… we’ll see.’

  After May settled herself into the lucky chair, trying to swallow some cake and silence her rumbling belly, the next seventeen and a half minutes were the longest of her life. She tapped her finger on the table, crumbled the cake into a pile of crumbs and gazed out of the window, trying to distract herself from her nerves.

  At ten past twelve exactly a short, slim woman, with shiny blonde hair in a pixie cut that highlighted her big green eyes, stepped into the café. Before she reached the counter she stopped and glanced around the room. Then, spotting May at the window, smiled and turned to walk to her.

  ‘You, I see from the photo on your book jacket, must be May.’ She reached out her hand. ‘I’m Olivia Greene, but call me Lily.’

  May stood, trying not to tremble, and she shook Lily’s hand and smiled.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Lily.’ May forced herself to stop grinning, lest the publisher think she was a crazy person, and gently let go of her hand, though she wanted to hold on tight and kiss it.

  Half an hour later they were sitting together, drinking coffee and chatting, while sunlight shone through the window, bathing them both in a warm glow.

  ‘Lily was my mother’s name,’ May said, because she didn’t know what else to say and because she’d been thinking about it since yesterday.

  ‘I remember reading that in your book,’ Lily said, smiling, ‘but didn’t know if it was true or not. I wondered how much of it was autobiographical.’

  ‘Almost all of it,’ May admitted. ‘I suppose perhaps I don’t have much of an imagination.’

  ‘Oh, I doubt that,’ Lily said, ‘and anyway, it takes courage to write like that, to expose your heart for everyone else to see.’

  ‘Well, to be honest,’ May said, ‘I never rea
lly imagined very many people ever would. When I sold my hundredth book I was so surprised I –’

  ‘You know,’ Lily interrupted, laughing, ‘if you want to make it over here, you might want to acquire a bit of shameless self-confidence. We don’t really do self-deprecating modesty and all that. After all, how can you expect other people to believe in you, if you don’t even believe in yourself ?’

  ‘Yes, I see, of course.’ May nodded, rather worried she might have just put Lily off entirely. ‘I understand.’

  ‘Good.’ Lily settled back in her chair. ‘I’m glad. Especially since your book is so much about teaching women courage and confidence, it’d be a little unfair if you didn’t live like that yourself. And I wouldn’t want to be the only one of us who believes in you.’

  ‘Really?’ May’s eyes widened. ‘You do? Yes, well, and I, um, I do too.’

  May maintained an earnest gaze until Lily winked and they both burst into simultaneous giggles. May relaxed after that and they talked until long after The Tea Cup had officially closed, and Alice had retired to the kitchen to clean. They discovered they shared many similarities: personally, emotionally, historically… But underneath all the words lay an unspoken sense of connection, there since the moment they’d met and that only deepened the longer they sat together. Lily was delighted the young author was every bit as lovely as her prose. And May felt, for the first time in fourteen years, that she’d met someone who had the same spirit as her mother.

  ‘We should go,’ Lily said finally. ‘I think we might have outstayed our welcome.’

  ‘Yes,’ May said, feeling as though she was on a date she didn’t want to end. ‘I suppose we should.’