Love Your Life(88)

Things are generally good, I keep reminding myself. The party was deemed a massive success—in fact, it went on till 2 A.M. and ended with everyone drunkenly swearing lifelong friendship. But I still feel tetchy. The more I watch Matt, the more I can see that Topher’s right: He’s stale. But I can also see how conflicted he is. Even I feel conflicted, and it’s not my family company.

    I mean, it’s an amazing heritage. Whenever I see a Harriet’s House ad on the TV, I feel a vicarious flicker of pride. But at the same time, I can’t help resenting it. The day after our party, Matt had a closeted phone call with his parents, in which he told them he wasn’t going to Japan, and ever since then he’s been even less communicative than usual.

I haven’t said a word on the subject, because Matt’s been too preoccupied by the upcoming expo. But at last, thank God, Harriet’s World day has arrived. Matt’s event is at midday and we’re in a taxi on our way to the venue, and then it will be over. Genevieve won’t have an excuse to phone every night, and maybe Matt and I will sit down for a good talk. Meanwhile, I’m trying my hardest to keep an open mind. As our taxi drops us at the conference center, I notice a pair of girls walking toward us on the pavement, and I can’t help gaping.

“Look!” I nudge Matt. “They’ve dressed up as Harriet.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He glances up without interest as they approach. “They do that.”

Both girls have auburn wigs on, I notice as they get near. And turquoise shoes and dresses which they must have made themselves. How many hours did they devote to these outfits?

“Here’s your VIP pass.” Matt hands me a printed pass on a lanyard, and I stare at it, slightly astonished. I’ve never had a VIP pass in my life.

    “VIP, huh?” I say. “You do treat me well.”

Matt laughs and gives me a kiss, which is interrupted by a voice saying, “Matt?” One of the girls has come to a halt nearby and is staring at Matt, bug-eyed. “Are you Matt Warwick?”

“Yes, I am.” Matt smiles at her, looking uncomfortable. “Welcome to Harriet’s World. Enjoy your day.”

“Is that Genevieve?” asks the other girl, pointing at me in excitement.

“No,” says the first girl. “They broke up. And Genevieve’s blond. Don’t you know anything?”

“So who’s that?”

“Dunno.” The first girl addresses me with an air of antagonism. “Who are you?”

“I’m Ava,” I say, bewildered.

“We have to go now, guys,” says Matt hurriedly. “Have a great day at Harriet’s World. Catch you later.”

“Wait, can I have a selfie?” says the first girl, and my jaw drops. A selfie? With Matt?

I watch as he poses awkwardly with each of the girls, then chivvies me into the conference hall through a side entrance. I’m already drawing breath to question Matt urgently, but as we step into the giant space, my queries melt away. Because…oh my God.

I’d pictured the expo, of course I had. But I hadn’t imagined the scale of it. Everywhere I look, there are life-size dollhouse-room sets. Or stalls piled high with merchandise. Or real-life Harriets walking around. It’s all a little creepy, if you ask me.

    “This way,” says Matt, leading me briskly past the stands. But I can’t stop swiveling my head to look at all the attractions: little stages with entertainers already in full swing, and cotton-candy stations, and life-size toy ponies standing in a life-size toy stable.

“You make life-size toy ponies?” I say incredulously, and Matt glances at them as though he’d never noticed them before.

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, we put on this expo in a few locations around the world, so it’s cost-effective to produce them. I guess they’re popular….”

He’s so dispassionate, I almost want to laugh. Everywhere I look I can see bright, exhilarated expressions—except on him.

As I’m glancing around, I notice that a few visitors are holding Genevieve’s book. Oh God, she’s probably here already, isn’t she? We’ll probably bump into her any minute.

“Matt.” I tug at his arm so he stops walking. “I need some answers. What was that outside? Those girls.”

“Oh,” says Matt, after a pause. “That.”

“Yes, that! Why were they talking about you and Genevieve breaking up? How did they even know about you?”

“OK,” says Matt reluctantly. “Well, a few superfans are interested in the company. The history. The family. All that. They can’t get enough of it. And they became…Well.” He hesitates. “Invested in Genevieve and me. As a couple.”

“Invested? Because, what, they saw you on social media?”

    “I guess,” he says, looking slightly tortured. “They followed us, they chatted on the forums….For some people this is their major hobby. They dig in deep. I mean, it was Genevieve’s thing more than mine,” he adds, just as his phone rings. “Hey, Dad. Yes, just got here.”

As Matt chats with his dad, I whip out my phone and do a quick, very specific google: Matt Genevieve gossip breakup Harriet’s House.

I’ve googled Matt before (several times). But I obviously wasn’t using the right search terms, because I never happened upon this stuff. There’s a whole forum called “Harriet’s House gossip.” I stare at it in disbelief, then click on an old thread entitled Genevieve and Matt…where are they at?