The Ex(14)
O, here’s the back and forth b/w Jack & Charlotte, publisher of the Room. Read from bottom up to read in order. (Please tell me you would know that without me telling you.) –E
Begin forwarded message:
I did as Einer had instructed, scrolled down to the earliest message, and read from there.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
DATE: June 7, 2015 8:46 AM
Subject: What did you DO?
B just texted me to see if you had another best friend who went to Columbia and writes books. A missed moment? When I figure out a way to get you back, you will wish that I had killed you. Can I persuade you to take it down?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
DATE: June 7, 2015, 8:58 AM
Subject: RE: What did you DO?
You know I have no other friends. You, Buckley, Dog. Admit it: You wouldn’t have told me about her if you didn’t sort of want me to do something. If we find her, it’ll at least make a great story, maybe more. Besides, think of it as a blind item to get you some free publicity. As for Buckley, she just told me yesterday that she thinks you need a girlfriend!
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
DATE: June 7, 2015 9:04 AM
Subject: RE: What did you DO?
Don’t try to throw Buckley under the bus for this. I know for a fact that the thought of me with a woman totally “grosses her out.”
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
DATE: June 7, 2015 11:12 PM
Subject: RE: What did you DO?
I can’t believe I’m asking this, but any word?
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
DATE: June 7, 2015, 11:19 PM
Subject: RE: What did you DO?
Nothing credible yet but lots of shares and tweets. We’re gonna find her. I feel it. Go to bed.
Sent from Charlotte’s iPhone. Mention typos at your own risk.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
DATE: June 10, 2015, 3:27 PM
Subject: RE: What did you DO?
What did I do, you asked? Found the woman in the grass, that’s what I did! Booya.
Got a whole bunch of prank responses (as usual) but hers is legit, down to the details. Here’s the copy and paste:
Dear Charlotte, I just saw your Missed-Moment post on a friend’s Facebook page. Little did the friend know that I’m the woman you’re looking for. At least I think I am. Check with your mystery man: I have long dark hair and was wearing a bridesmaid’s dress. Oh, and I had a basket with me. Just so he knows I noticed him, too: if he’s the guy I smiled at, he was wearing a T-shirt that said “World’s Okayest Runner.” How great is that? If he wants to reach me, I’m at [email protected]. My name’s Madeline.
Here are my thoughts, Jack, whether wanted or not: 1) She uses excellent punctuation. 2) You really shouldn’t wear that shirt in public. 3) The fact that she liked said shirt means you could be perfect for each other. E-mail her, goofball.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
DATE: June 10, 2015, 6:27 pm
Subject: RE: What did you DO?
Me again. It’s been exactly three hours. Did you reach out to Madeline? Do it, Jack, or I may do it for you. And who knows what I might say? (Maniacal laugh.)
xox
I found myself smiling. Here I was, thinking of Jack as the guy to feel sorry for. His mother died when he was in high school, followed by his father our sophomore year in college. Then everything that happened with us, plus Owen, plus the aftermath. Then he starts a new life with Molly, only to lose her so violently.
But he still had Charlotte, who I knew from experience would stop at nothing to look after Jack. He had someone to e-mail at midnight. And he had a daughter who was probably the one to buy him cheesy T-shirts that were right in his humor wheelhouse.
I of all people had no reason to feel sorry for someone who had all of that.
I CLICKED ON THE FINAL e-mail message from Einer. It was a forward of all the exchanges between Jack and Madeline.
A quick scroll revealed that there was a lot to read, so I jumped back to the top for the important stuff.
Just like Jack had sworn, Madeline was the one to suggest the meet-up at the football field. She had set the time, the date, and the location. She was the one who told him to bring the picnic basket. She’d bring the champagne.
All good.
I was starting to read the messages from the beginning when an incoming text message appeared at the top of my phone’s screen: Are you at the precinct? Have you seen my dad?
I ignored the text and continued to skim. Jack’s first e-mail to Madeline explained that the silly T-shirt was a gift from his daughter. Most men wouldn’t lead with the kid, but Jack never did have much game. He asked her what book she had been reading when he spotted her at the pier. She told him Eight Days to Die.
Okay, he responded. I may need to verify that you’re actually real, and this isn’t Charlotte punking me. Eight Days to Die is far and away my favorite book from last year. What are the odds of that? I’ve stopped recommending it to people, because they insist that a person with only eight days to live is “too sad,” but it’s one of those clean, simple novels that proves heartbreaking stories can be life affirming.