The Perfect Mother(56)

He’s wearing two different-colored socks, which Nell assumes is deliberate. “It’s an adjustment. But I’m happy to be back.”

“Yeah, I know how it is.”

She smiles. No, he doesn’t. He’s a forty-four-year-old single man, rumored to be dating one of the assistants of Wedded Wife, the company’s bridal magazine. What does he know about leaving a baby, practically still a newborn, at a day care for nine hours a day?

“I have to say, I’m glad you’re back,” Ian says. “We’ve lost so many good people to their babies since I’ve been here. They take their maternity leave, tell us they’ll be back, and then, wham!”

Nell raises her eyebrows. “Wham?”

“Yes, wham. A few days before we expect them to show up at the office, we get the call.” His voice gets a little smaller. “‘I can’t do it. I can’t be away from the baby.’ I’m glad that’s not you.”

The image flashes in her mind. Knocking this wanker to the ground, straddling him, grinding his face into the carpet. “Thanks a million, Ian.”

“Sure. And now, Clare and I need some help.” He gestures at Clare to come forward. “We’re disagreeing on a cover and decided to come straight to the expert.” Clare removes two printouts from her folder and lays them side by side on Nell’s desk. They’re mock-ups of this week’s Gossip!—the company’s largest magazine—showing the actress Kate Glass, who recently gave birth. She stands on a beach in two different poses, wearing a bikini top and shorts, holding the American flag, under the bold headline How I Got my Body Back.

“What do you think?” Ian asks Nell.

“What do I think?” Nell is aware that Clare is looking at her expectantly.

“Yeah. As a new mom, how does this resonate with you?”

“Lemme see.” Nell picks up the images. “Well, I’m very pleased to hear this.”

Ian’s head is tilted. “Which part?”

“That she got her body back.”

“Crazy, right?” Clare says. “This is just five weeks after she had a kid.”

“Wow,” Nell says. “That must have been terribly difficult for her. Trying to care for an infant, and all without a body.” Nell addresses Clare. “So what happened? Had someone stolen it? Were those abs recovered at a CrossFit in Cleveland by a search party?”

Ian laughs. “Told you she’s hilarious,” he says to Clare, his gaze on the printouts. “It can be a little silly, I know. But these postpregnancy covers kill it every time. Women love this stuff.” He studies the two samples, side by side. “I’m wondering if we should photoshop out that flag she’s holding.”

“I don’t think so.”

“No?”

Nell can’t help herself. “No. All new mothers typically remember to pack their American flag for a day at the beach.”

He laughs again weakly. His impatience is apparent.

“Sorry,” Nell says. “It’s just . . .” She glances at Clare. “This particular magazine. Not my favorite among the ones we publish.”

“I know, I know. But remember. If we didn’t have the ad revenue from Gossip! we could never publish Writers and Artists.”

“Okay, sorry. Let me give it another go.” She surveys the images again. “I like this one,” she says, holding up the image in her left hand. “And lose the flag. It’s ridiculous.”

Clare executes a soundless clap, her rose-painted fingernails just in front of her mouth. “I told you that’s the better photo.”

Ian nods as he collects the images, his face pensive. “I don’t know. I still think we’re making a major mistake.”

“A major mistake?” Nell waves her hand dismissively. Having a photo of yourself taken at a bar, drunk and overweight, wearing maternity pants two months after having a child, and then having that photo distributed to the residents of Brooklyn: that’s a major mistake. This is foolishness. “It’ll be fine. The photos are nearly identical.”

Ian is shaking his head again. “That’s not what I mean.” He returns to the window, gazing out at Lower Manhattan, to the Hudson River a few blocks away. “It’s a mistake not to go with a cover story on Baby Midas.”

Nell keeps her expression blank as Ian turns to look at her.

“But we’ve gone over it a million times,” Clare says. “Everyone will do a cover on that. We’re banking on getting all the readers who are having Baby Midas fatigue.”

“But nobody is having Baby Midas fatigue,” Ian says. “People don’t want to read less. They want to read more.” He looks at Nell. “Right? Don’t you want to read more?”

“No,” Nell says. “What is the point of constantly covering the story? Besides ad revenue, I mean. That family needs—”

“But who is Midas’s dad?” Ian is becoming more upset. “Why is she not saying anything about this?”

“I heard it is a sperm donor thing, and—”

“Fine, Clare, fine. But then why not come out and say that? Why not talk to Oprah, like so many moms in her situation have done before?”

“Oprah retired.”