by Lola Jaye
Yes, finishing The Manual was like losing Dad all over again. My deep feelings of dissatisfaction were fresh, raw and all too consuming. I would never again be reading a fresh piece of advice from Dad. Never again be able to laugh at his crummy jokes for the first time. No more brand-new entries to look forward to.
I could just get angry.
But I cried. A lot. And instead of sinking into a place I had been before, this time I was determined to move on.
Hope.
That’s what pulled me up then and that’s what’s doing so now. To quote my dad: “where there is life there is hope.” I would be forever sad about the end of The Manual but I’d only let this sorrow be a small part of me. It would not—I would not allow it to—stop me from living and loving. I was here with a fully functioning heart and for the first time in my entire life felt more than ready to share it with someone in sweet abundance.
Now I just had to hope he felt the same way.
I realized it would have been wise to ask the cab driver to stick around in case he wasn’t home. In case the whole family except Corey was home. Then again, if this was meant to be, he’d be there, I told myself, with a temporary belief in kismet, serendipity et al.
Corey answered my knock.
“I’ve been trying to call you,” he said.
“Here I am.” I took a step closer. “And I need you.”
His arms opened up to me and I molded myself into his chest and wept freely with abandon; for the last strenuous few days and for the last twenty-five years too.
epilogue
The sky was a dull shade of gray, cloudless with a promise of rain as my insides became gripped with the warmth of a fresh sunset. I moved from my window and back to the screen of the laptop just as it flipped into screensaver mode, effectively blanketing the latest cheesy family shot I’d been given until Thursday to edit. Clicking onto a fresh document, I waited, just staring at the blank screen and smiling gracefully as I placed a palm onto my tummy.
My phone sang an incoming text message from Corey. He was going to be late home and did I fancy another pizza, this time without the raspberry jam, gorgonzola and green chili topping? I smiled. So much had changed over the past twelve months. Life was something I actively took part in now, experiencing every second, minute, hour and day. And this included my family: Derek, Mom, Abbi, Calvin, Carla, her mom and Corey.
Although we weren’t about to become the Waltons, I secretly looked forward to our new Sunday ritual involving a roast dinner at Mom’s and drinks next door with the others. I was trying. Mom was trying. Everything was so new. Not least being with Corey in a real life, grown-up relationship. I was enjoying the intimacy, the closeness that existed between us, and I never, ever wanted it to end. That much I knew.
I typed the first word.
Hello.
I hit delete.
I located The Manual in the lounge cabinet—beside the Kodak Tele Ektra camera—in its new home and no longer part of a secret hiding place. I used the hem of my tunic to swipe at the film of dust that had gathered on top. Although I hardly ever referred to it any more, it remained an important, affectionate piece of my history and something I felt any child would very much love to have, if received in the proper way. Turning to the first page, I felt the words almost leap from the paper and into my consciousness. And then I returned to the laptop.
Perhaps you have your daddy’s eyes or your grandfather’s wit or even your Auntie Abbi’s cheek, who knows? But even though you haven’t been born yet, I can still picture you. Yes, really. And I can’t wait to hear how your voice will sound, or find out what your little habits are or what your favorite color is—mine’s yellow by the way. Okay, now where was I? Oh yes. I’ll start.
I think that every little boy or girl should have one of these. Something for the future. A reference to look back on when they are feeling sad, happy or just something to show THEIR children. So, this is my (Lois Bates’s) manual to my son, Kevin junior. The Love of My Life (along with your dad). I hope this explains things. Maybe it won’t. Perhaps I just have too much time on my hands.
But first, let’s start with the rules of The Manual…
acknowledgments
I’d like to thank God; Mrs. Sheila “Nanno” Graham for her belief in me; Nathan “Piza” Thomas for being my rock during those early days; Simon “Stewy” Trewin for being the perfect muse; Claire “Tha Editor” Bord for being absolutely on my level (not sure if that sounds like a compliment!); Judith “Tha Agent” Murdoch for not dissing me at Winchester and Karen “Kazzarino” Tester for reading the very first scribbles of Kevin’s Manual.
Plus, I’d also like to send a shout out to EVERYONE who has played a part in the production of my book: family, friends, ice cream makers, colleagues, HarperCollins staff,…………know who you are, but for the benefit of everyone else, pop your name in the space provided!
And enjoy the book Daddy Ted…I’ll miss you forever.
About the Author
LOLA JAYE was born and raised in London where she still makes her home. Her inspirational essay Reach for the Stars was released in 2009 as part of the UK’s wildly popular “Quick Reads” program in which bestselling authors deliver short new works. By the Time You Read This is her first novel.
www.lolajaye.com
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Credits
Cover design by Raina Tinker
Cover photograph by Gary John Norman/Getty Images
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS. Copyright © 2008, 2009 by Lola Jaye. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition July 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-190131-7
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
25 Ryde Road (PO Box 321)
Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
55 Avenue Road, Suite 2900
Toronto, ON, M5R, 3L2, Canada
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1
Auckland, New Zealand
http://www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6 8JB, UK
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com