Happier Than She's Ever Been...

by Menna Van Praag

  ‘Yeah, I suppose it’s ridiculous really,’ May said. ‘All that time I was trying to make my life better, I never even really enjoyed the betterness of it.’

  Faith unwrapped herself and joined May on the sofa, stretching out like a cat. ‘Ah, that was lovely.’ She gave a satisfying sigh. ‘Now I just need some sex.’

  May laughed. ‘How do you do it? Stay so calm and centred in all this craziness? How do you keep your peace and perspective? Because I’m a little scared that as soon as I step back into the madness of life I’m going to mess it all up again.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Faith said. ‘It’s a life-long journey. You can’t put pressure on yourself to get it right the first, second or even fifth time. Simply try to balance your spiritual side with your material side as best you can. And remember that what your material side wants is usually not at all the same as what your spiritual side needs and, when in doubt, always tip the balance in favour of the latter. Then everything else will take care of itself.’

  May sipped the last of her tea. ‘I think I’ll get that tattooed on my fingers so I never forget.’

  ‘And some foundations,’ Faith said. ‘Get yourself some solid spiritual foundations. Then when the fame and fortune stuff tries to seduce you, when illusory promises of a fairy-tale life are waved in front of you, you’ll find it much easier to keep hold of your spirit and soul, and to stop your heart from being stomped on.’

  ‘Yes.’ May smiled. ‘I’d like to avoid being stomped on, if I can. So what are these foundations? Tell me, I need new material for my next book and, of course, my tattoos.’

  Faith laughed at her cousin’s question. ‘Oh, but I don’t know what yours are. I only know mine. I think they’re unique to each of us. We just have to find them.’

  ‘And where do we look?’

  ‘Life gives you clues,’ Faith said. ‘You’ll notice them if you’re paying attention. Look around you, and listen to what people say. Not just when you’ve asked their advice, but often when it seems like they’re saying nothing at all. I get the most wonderful insights from checkout girls.’

  ‘Yes, you would.’ May laughed. ‘Lily told me something lovely a few months ago, a quote about asking life what it wants from me, instead of only asking for what I want from life.’

  ‘Aunt Lily?’ Faith’s eyes widened with delight to hear of a ghost giving advice. ‘How exciting!’

  ‘No, sorry,’ May said, laughing, ‘it’s another Lily, my American publisher. Although she did start to become a bit of a mum to me, actually, until I started ignoring her.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you.’

  ‘Not everyone is as able to do that as easily as you.’ May thought of Ben and her heart contracted again. ‘And I don’t know they should.’

  ‘Oh, May, stop punishing yourself so much. We all make mistakes. We’re supposed to. It’s part of being human; we can’t learn without them. You’ve got to live, and bleed, and get your heart broken. There’s no other way. After all, would you have believed me if I’d told you last year that getting your book published could – if you weren’t very careful – make you more miserable than happy?’

  ‘No,’ May admitted. ‘I don’t suppose I would.’

  ‘So, please, let it go. Let yourself off the hook, get back to your life, but this time forget about what your gremlin wants,’ Faith said, ‘and instead ask your heart what you need.’

  But May didn’t have to ask. She already knew. She felt it in her heart, body, blood and bones. ‘I need to go home.’

  TRUTH

  The next day May returned to London. She met with her publishers again and told them that she needed to leave as soon as she’d fulfilled her obligations. Which meant ten days, in ten different cities. She wanted to jump on the next plane to San Francisco but needed to keep her word, so she stayed grounded and did her best to give her readings with gusto, respond with long, thoughtful answers to all her Q&As and chat with customers as she signed their books. And because May focused on taking care of those around her, instead of caring only about what she wanted, the ten days passed quickly and before she knew it she was flying home.

  By the time May stood again on the corner of her San Francisco street, she half-wished she’d waited a little longer. She didn’t know what to do or say to Ben. She paced up and down the spot where the taxi had dropped her, hoping inspiration and courage would come, but it didn’t. Eventually she gave up and walked to the bookshop, put her suitcases on the pavement and peered through the window.

  Ben was there, in the back, unpacking books and stacking them in little piles on the desk. Her heart hurt at the sight of him. The hands that had held her so tightly, the lips that had kissed her, the arms that had lifted her, the chest that she’d so often pressed her face against… May thought about everything they’d been through, the love and hate, the joy and pain. And she wished it had been different, wished that she hadn’t lost herself – and him – in striving for illusions that meant nothing. And she wished he hadn’t left her, body and soul, to sleep with someone else. But she knew there was no point; everything that had happened had happened, and all that mattered now was what would happen next.

  May paused for a moment, then pushed open the door and stepped inside. As the bell tinkled, Ben looked up and froze. She walked slowly towards him, leaving her suitcases at the door.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi,’ he said, still staring at her, still holding onto a book.

  May waited to see what would happen next. She thought about forgiveness, about how far they’d both pushed those boundaries. But, although she wanted to turn and walk away, thinking it was all too much, too painful to go through, that it would be easier to start again with somebody new, May remembered what Rose had said about love, about how soulmates must bring out each other’s most painful, unresolved issues so they can be healed. So there was no running away from this. If she ran now, she’d find herself back here again, years from now, with another man, not Ben. And she wanted it to be Ben; she wanted it always to be Ben.

  ‘I – I…’ May stepped towards him slightly, tears in her eyes. But before she could say anything else, Ben spoke.

  ‘I didn’t sleep with her.’

  ‘What?’ May frowned.

  ‘I kissed her, I touched her, but I stopped.’

  ‘I don’t understand, you told me… you told me that you did.’

  ‘I know. I think, I wanted to hurt you, I wanted to make you suffer, as much as I possibly could,’ Ben said softly. ‘I wanted to punish you, for leaving me, for everything… Hell, I wanted to sleep with her, just so I really could hurt you. I know that’s unbelievably horrible, but… anyway, I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to touch her. She wasn’t you and I just, I just couldn’t…’

  ‘Oh,’ May gasped. ‘Oh –’

  ‘We were in a restroom, for god’s sake,’ Ben hurried on, desperate to get the truth out, ‘and I looked at her, and it was disgusting, she was disgusting, I was disgusting… and I ran out. But I knew it was the one way I had left to hurt you. You didn’t seem to care about anything any more, not about me anyway; you were so… indifferent. I thought… I don’t know. I don’t know what I was doing. I never, never felt so, so… When I thought you were leaving me, I didn’t think my heart could hold so much pain.’

  May walked towards him, sniffing, tears running down her cheeks. They stood a few feet from each other. Ben held the book against his chest like a shield.

  ‘I did love you,’ May said. ‘I do. Then. Now. Always. I just… I was so lost inside another world, the insane, ridiculous world of illusions and gremlins and, anyway, I lost my heart. I couldn’t feel anything any more, not love, or pain, or joy. I was numb to everything except wanting…’

  ‘Not me,’ Ben said. ‘You wanted everything, but you didn’t want me.’

  ‘Oh, God, no, that’s not true.’ May blinked away her tears, trying to focus. ‘I wanted what I didn’t have. More fame, attention, adoration.
More fortune, book sales, deals… But it wasn’t real. I mean, my wanting wasn’t real. I didn’t really want all that, not in my heart and soul. The only problem was I’d completely lost touch with those parts of me, and all I could hear was my mind, telling me every minute of every day what I wanted, how much, how much more…’

  Ben sighed a little, leaning against his desk and sitting down. ‘I should have said something,’ he said. ‘I just let it happen. I saw it, but I didn’t even try to help you.’

  ‘Oh God, it’s not your fault,’ May exclaimed, ‘not even a little bit, not at all. I wouldn’t have listened. I’d probably just have yelled at you. Or ignored you, like I did with Lily.’

  ‘No, you’re wrong,’ Ben said. ‘I mean, I know you would have yelled and all that, but I was responsible too, for your well-being, for the state of our relationship. I let you down. I let you lose yourself and I didn’t say anything. You were like a drunk, or a drug addict shooting up in front of me, and I just let you do it, because I didn’t want to lose you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ May said. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Is it? Really? Remember what we agreed?’ Ben asked. ‘We agreed to tell each other the truth, to love each other enough to do that, to… what was it you told me once?’

  May felt her heart contract again. ‘That true love is when you love another person more than you want them to love you.’

  ‘Right, exactly, so you tell them the truth. You tell them what they might not want to hear. You tell them what might make them hate you. But you do it to try to save them from themselves because, if you don’t, they might just lose their way forever.’

  ‘Yes.’ May nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But I didn’t. I just thought about myself, the whole time,’ Ben said, ‘and I told myself I was just thinking of you, being generous with you, letting you get away with being self-obsessed for a little while, letting you be imperfect, loving you unconditionally –’

  ‘And you were, and that was amazing of you. That’s part of true love: loving the whole of someone, all their flaws, who they really are, not just the good stuff, not just who you want them to be.’

  ‘Yes, I get that,’ Ben said, putting his book down and running his finger along the edge of the desk, ‘and it’s right. But can’t both be right at the same time? Can’t you tell someone the truth about their behaviour while still loving them, in spite of it? Can’t you be honest and loving? Can’t you tell the truth about what you see, and do it with love, kindness, compassion… Surely unconditional love isn’t about silence; it’s about taking care of your beloved, to the very best of your ability.’

  May took a few steps to the desk and sat down next to him. Very slowly, Ben reached out, took her hand and held it in his.

  ‘I think people get confused,’ Ben said. ‘I know I was. They think unconditional love is letting someone be, without saying anything. But now I know that to truly love is to say something, without judging.’

  ‘I’m not sure I… what do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, you don’t yell and scream about how selfish someone is; you don’t blame them for their choices, or try to get them to feel bad. You just state the facts, as you see them, kindly and calmly, and let them decide what to do with it.’

  ‘Well,’ May said, ‘that sounds pretty amazing. But I still don’t know if I would have listened to you, even if you’d done that then. I think I was too lost’ – she gave a little smile – ‘too self-obsessed, to hear you.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Ben said, ‘maybe not. But perhaps you underestimate yourself too. You ever think of that?’

  ‘No.’ May smiled at him. ‘I didn’t, but –’

  Ben smiled back at her. ‘Well, I believe that if we say something, anything, truly to help the other person, and our relationship with them, without any underlying anger, blame, criticism… then they’ll be able to hear what we say, without getting defensive, without screaming denials and hating us for it, because they’ll feel the love with which we’d said it, and they’d know that our intention is pure and true. Then, I think, it’s possible to tell someone almost anything and they’ll listen and look for the truth of it inside themselves.’

  ‘Anything?’ May was beaming now. ‘Even when you’re telling them that they’re being selfish and self-obsessed?’

  ‘Yes!’ Ben laughed, pulling her into a hug. ‘Even that. Although, not being judgemental, you wouldn’t put it quite like that, would you?’

  ‘True, true. So,’ May went on, breathing in the smell of him, almost unable to believe they were holding each other again, ‘where did all this amazing wisdom come from?’

  ‘Hey, how do you know I didn’t come up with it all by myself ? You think I’m a duffball?’

  ‘A duffball?’ May laughed. ‘What on earth’s that?’

  ‘I don’t know, but it ain’t someone smart.’ Ben squeezed her. ‘I’ve been chatting with Lily. She comes into the bookshop sometimes and we talk…’

  ‘Lily?’ May asked. ‘Really?’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Ben looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I didn’t sleep with her.’

  May raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Well, maybe we just fooled around a little…’

  ‘Not funny.’

  ‘Sorry, too soon for jokes?’

  ‘No,’ May replied, smiling, ‘I just thought you knew.’

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘That Lily’s a lesbian.’ May giggled at the look of surprise on Ben’s face. ‘She’s been with her lover, Megan, for over twenty years.’

  ‘Ah,’ Ben said, ‘so that’s why she was immune to my charms.’

  May raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, that’s why.’

  Ben laughed and kissed her. Warmth flushed May’s skin and her lips tingled. ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’

  ‘So, do you think we can do all that compassionate honesty stuff ?’ May asked. ‘Do you think we’ve got what it takes?’

  ‘Well, I think it’s an essential ingredient to a happy relationship,’ Ben said, ‘and without it we’ll end up floating apart, separating like… like butter and milk in a bad batch of pancake batter.’

  May laughed. ‘Okay, but why the bizarre cooking metaphor?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Ben retorted, tickling her. ‘Because I’m starving, that’s why. I haven’t eaten in, like, ten hours.’

  ‘Well then, I say we go upstairs,’ May said, ‘and eat.’ She stood up, reaching out her hand to pull him up. ‘What do you fancy?’

  ‘Pancakes.’

  ‘All right,’ May said, ‘but not those small and thick, weird American pancakes. The real ones: thin and crispy with lots of sugar and lemon.’

  ‘Crêpes,’ Ben said.

  ‘You call them that,’ May said, smiling, ‘but to me they’re plain old pancakes, just like my mum used to make.’

  BIRTH

  Ben and May strolled along the pebbled paths of the Japanese Tea Garden, hand in hand. The sun was setting slowly behind the trees and they walked in silence. It had been almost six months since May had come home and she felt better than ever before. They were applying compassionate honesty to their relationship and it was working wonderfully. It was perfect. Not completely calm and utterly unblemished, which is what May used to believe a perfect relationship should be, but much better than that. She discovered that a deeper, more profound perfection was to be found in forgiveness, empathy and compassion. With trust and truth, they began to heal many of the hurts they’d been carrying since childhood, just as Rose had promised they could. And May discovered that the old lady was right all along: love that stayed true in the presence of all your flaws was a much greater experience than love that was simply flawless.

  And then Ben stopped walking.

  ‘Hey.’ May turned to him. ‘What’s up?

  ‘Why don’t you want children?’ Ben asked. ‘I’m sorry, I keep telling myself not to ask, not to pressure you, but… please tell me.’

  May lo
oked at him. ‘How do you know I don’t?’

  He shrugged. ‘Things you’ve said. Things you haven’t said. The way you reacted last time I asked.’

  ‘Oh yes, that,’ May remembered. ‘Sorry about that. Well, it’s just… I always thought I’d lose myself. I’d become a mother and I wouldn’t know who I was any more. And I’ve always been just a little terrified that I’d mess up so completely my kids would need therapy till they died. That too.’

  Ben laughed. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’

  ‘I supposed because I always thought I was a mess.’ May shrugged. ‘So, it stood to reason I’d be a mess as a mother.’

  ‘You’re not a mess.’ Ben stroked a wisp of hair from her face. ‘No more so than anyone else, anyway.’

  May laughed and said, ‘Oh well, that’s all right then.’ She looked at Ben, trying to think of another joke to lighten the mood. But she could see in his eyes that he was serious, that this was a subject he’d thought a lot about. Suddenly May panicked, scared that if they stood there any longer he might ask her to talk about things she just wasn’t ready to share, memories she didn’t want to revisit. ‘Come on, let’s go. They’ll be closing in a minute. We don’t want to get locked in.’

  May started walking, her hurried steps scattering pebbles, leaving Ben gazing after her, wondering what on earth was going on.

  ‘I can’t do it Fay, I can’t.’ May sat at the desk in her room, twisting the phone cord between her fingers, gazing out of the window into a thick fog. ‘I just can’t.’

  ‘Well,’ Faith said, ‘whether or not you’ve got what it takes isn’t really the point right now, is it? The real question is: do you want to?’

  May was silent for a moment. ‘No. Yes. I don’t know. I never did, before I met Ben. And now I just…’