Maame(79)
Email David about contracts
Anglicize text for DF
Organize review copies to be sent out
Draft letter for above
Unanswered emails
Add Hungry to MDX
Type out pre-order pack notes
Penny’s expenses
Find missing ?5.72 receipt
Invoices x3
Excel spreadsheet of MTS editorial and design costs
Public enquiries
Add amends to publishing schedule then upload on database
Order milk jug for the office
Send out foreign rights deals for approval
I write down my to-do list for tomorrow so I can keep busy, same as today. Then I look up and realize I’m the last person in the office.
I shut down my computer, pack my bag, and slip on my jacket. I remain seated, staring at the quiet office. The only noise is the hum of the dishwasher—not sure who turned it on as the task typically falls to me. Well, it could have been me.
Am I hungry at all? I could probably go without dinner.
I turn off the office lights and go home.
Chapter Thirty-two
Alex
How do you feel about bowling tonight?
Maddie
On a school night? Sounds like a second date.
It turns out I’m rather skilled at bowling. It wouldn’t have been my preferred hidden talent of choice, but right now, it’s serving me well.
“How was the barbecue?” Alex asks.
“Barbecue?” Yes, your fake weekend plans. “Oh, right, it was great.” I recall what I overheard Jo saying to Cam. “Dad burnt more than he should have but called it caramelized. Classic.”
“So it was your barbecue and not your friend’s?”
“What? Oh.” I look at the scoreboard to buy time. “No, the barbecue was at her place, but our families are really close. We’ve known each other since we were babies and our dads are best friends. So naturally they had a cook-off.” I smile as I say this, just at the thought of a big, warm extended family bonded together by decades of memories and charcoaled burgers. “How was the film?”
“It was fine.” He bowls and knocks down five pins. “But I don’t love sitting in the dark for hours during the day. It’s like my body itches to go outside and do something physical.”
“Like lose at bowling?”
Alex raises his eyebrows. “I’m not that far behind! Be warned, all great comebacks start like this, with a cocky opponent.”
“You’re right. I should be more graceful.” I watch as he approaches the alley, ball in hand. I shout, “You suck, Alex!” just as he stands at the line.
He laughs, “Mature!” and rolls his ball into the gutter.
* * *
After the fifth round, we sit in a booth with a milkshake each, watching a couple bowl. They look to be in their forties and she’s winning but we think he’s letting her.
“So, senior sales executive but photography?” I ask. “Tell me more.”
Alex rests his arm behind me—he has one of those smiles where his sharp incisors manage to amplify it to twice its worth. “Yeah, so sales is my to-live job and photography is my dream job. I used to have big dreams when I was a kid, or maybe they just seemed big because I was so small. Typically, as I got older, I just wanted to make a lot of money; I thought if I could buy everything I wanted when I wanted it, then I’d be happy. So I got a job with a great salary, et cetera, but it just doesn’t…” His inability to verbalize this specific feeling has him settle for a gesture instead. He taps his chest, right above his heart. “It just doesn’t live in here,” he says. “I’m a late subscriber to the theory of being responsible for your own happiness and only realized recently that your job has a huge part to play in that. I think a lot of us prioritize money and appearances and instant gratification. And in the process, genuine happiness became undervalued. Does that make sense?”
I nod. “It does. I had a theater job that made me miserable, but I needed a steady salary. Then I was fired.”
He straightens up. “What happened?”
I tell him the whole story; I pause for him to laugh at Avi and roll his eyes at Katherine; I tell him about the lack of fulfillment and the alienation. “I cried almost every day. I thought I was depressed.”
Whoa, that’s a big word to use on a second date. I don’t think Lisa Fiener would approve.
Subconscious Maddie removes the sleeping mask from her face and rubs her eyes. Hey, at least you’re telling him the truth now. She stretches excessively. See how good it feels? Telling him all about CGT. You didn’t even tell your own mother the truth about that.
I turn to Alex, who only considers me. Why did I tell him so much?
To negate the lies. Yes, maybe.
To give him at least some authentic piece of yourself. He’s been nothing but honest with me; I owe him some truth.
Doesn’t make the preceding lies forgivable and, wow, have there been many. I’ve become so good at lying. Yes, you have. At inventing an alternate Maddie, a happy, carefree Maddie. A Maddie that’s effortless to love. A Maddie I wish I was.
Maybe you want to tell him the truth now, though? Do I? Why would I want that when the truth is so sad? I like Alex, but the person he thinks I am isn’t real and I’m not ready for my reality and this fantasy to clash in an irreparable way.