Supermarket(47)

“What do you mean what?” she said.

“What book?” I asked.

“Muldoon’s, dummy. The book you wrote. The entire reason you’re in this place to begin with!”

In all this time, taking everything in, I forgot the whole fucking reason I was in here! For pushing myself to my breaking point to finish a novel. And I succeeded . . .

But therein lay the question.

“Who released the book?” I asked.

“Ed Nortan at Darjeeling Publishing! Remember him? He wouldn’t stop calling and I figured it wouldn’t hurt. I knew how hard you’d worked on it, so I gave him permission as your legal guardian. He gave me your back end, which has been sitting in your account along with . . .”

She paused, as though not sure how to explain.

“Along with what, Mom?!”

“Along with . . . just under nine million dollars. After taxes.”

“WHAT?!” I screamed. “Holy shit, what the fuck?! Oh my God, I can’t believe it . . . are you serious?!”

“I’m dead serious, son! I’m so proud of you!”

“How did this happen? I don’t understand!”

“Well,” she said, “after you had your breakdown I went to your apartment to gather your things, and I found the draft of the book you had just finished. I mailed it to Mr. Nortan. In just a few months the book was out and published. Your trial attracted a lot of attention. It was televised and written about extensively. People became obsessed with the case and with you. The book became a cultural phenomenon. They couldn’t believe someone was so dedicated to their craft that he drove himself crazy!”

“Mooooommmmmm!” I said, sounding like an annoyed child.

“Oh, sorry, honey . . . but you know what I mean! Anyway, the release of the book was a smash success, an instant New York Times best seller. It blew up. It’s even being made into a movie by a big studio.”

I couldn’t believe it! She was blowing my mind. Everything I could have ever wanted had happened, and I wasn’t even in the same fuckin’ universe when it did.

“Who’s playing me in the film?” I asked.

“Joseph Gordon whatever-his-name-is,” she said, trying to remember.

“Holy shit, I love that guy!”

“And some hotshot screenwriter named Brian is writing it. Apparently you two randomly met on a plane a few years ago? He’s been great. He remembered meeting you and followed your case. Once the book came out he immediately attached himself to the project as a writer.”

“Jesus! That’s crazy. What else have I missed?”

“Well, everyone wanted to congratulate you after the book came out. Including Lola. That’s when she came to visit you.”

When she said this, everything stopped. Right then, I couldn’t hear a sound in the room except her voice.

“She wanted to come celebrate and apologize for how things ended. She wanted you to know that she was proud of you, but . . .”

My mom didn’t need to finish. The memory returned and I knew exactly what had happened. Lola showed up while I was in a loop at the diner with Dr. Cross a few months back. When she showed up, I couldn’t process Dr. Cross and Lola in the same room, and because of this I was sucked even deeper into the delusion.

But not this time. This time I was gonna make it out. I had to.

“Anyway,” Mom said. “Thank God she sent that synopsis to the publisher, huh?”

I sat there frozen. No wonder I’d never heard of the publishing company . . . it was Lola all along! She submitted my synopsis to the publisher before we had even broken up. She was the reason I got a book deal in the first place. She was not only the reason I was in this place, but the reason I was now a successful author.

“Congrats, baby,” she said. She handed me a copy of my book. It was a slick-looking cover. Minimalist design with only type. It looked so dope.

MULDOON’S: A NOVEL

Flynnagin E. Montgomery

I couldn’t believe it. It was real. Tears welled in my eyes.

“I’m going to let you sit with all of this.” My mother kissed me good-bye and said she would be back tomorrow for another visit.

Still trying to process the fact that I was an acclaimed, bestselling author, I heard an announcement over the intercom.

“Flynn Montgomery, please report to Ted Daniels’s office. I repeat . . . Flynn Montgomery to Dr. Olivia Cross’s office.”

I did a double take.

“Hey, whose office did they just say on the intercom?” I asked the man in front of me.

“BLUE ANGELS LIVE IN SIN!” he yelled. “It’s the mice that will rule once the pirate returns! Am I right?”

“Rriiiggghhttttt . . . ,” I said, sneaking away and heading to Olivia’s office.

Once I got there, I raised my hand to knock on Olivia’s door but she answered before my knuckles connected with the wood.

“Flynn,” she said, the door opening suddenly. “Just the man I was looking for! I figured it’s such a nice day out; we should have our session in the fresh air . . . what do you say?”

Even though it was December, I agreed. It looked great outside—the sun was shining, the air was crisp, and the outdoor heaters radiated warmth throughout the garden.

Dr. Cross took me on her favorite walk around the property. It was a gorgeous tree-lined walking path. I started to open up, telling Dr. Cross about my nightmare the night before—how Frank was chasing me down the hallway, and as I ran it turned into an aisle from Muldoon’s. I didn’t tell her about what I heard on the intercom, though. I was too afraid. I didn’t know what to make of it.