Happier Than She's Ever Been... (16 page)

May squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip.

‘But you have to remember,' Faith went on, ‘your life is
your
life, and it's up to you to make the most of it, right now. It doesn't matter what happened in the past. You'll never get anywhere by looking back and blaming. Your parents did the best they could, just like you always do, and of course they made mistakes; they messed up, just like we all do. But if you blame them, or indeed you, for everything that's gone “wrong”, then no matter how good life finally gets you'll never let yourself enjoy it. You'll have to suffer, just to justify the blame.'

May was silent, letting it all sink in. She opened her eyes again and looked out at the fog, relieved that Faith was at the other end of a phone in England and not able to see her face. Because, while May still didn't want to admit it, she knew her cousin was right.

‘Yes,' May said at last. ‘Okay, so you have a point. My whole fairy-tale fantasy about perfect parenthood, the ideal I couldn't live up to, has come from blaming my own parents, my father, for not doing it right, for everything that went wrong.'

‘Ah, but that's another thing I have a theory about,' Faith said, ‘and it works extremely well, whether or not it's really true.'

May raised an eyebrow, wondering what wacky theory her kooky cousin had concocted to see her through life's traumas. Although May had to admit, given how happy Faith always seemed to be, whatever it was, it certainly worked.

‘I have this theory, about the wisdom of the heart, or the soul, I'm not really sure which,' Faith said, ‘but the point is that it's our highest wisdom, and it brings all events into our lives for us to learn everything we need to learn in order to be truly happy, like letting go, loving ourselves, surrendering, peace, compassion, empathy… any number of things. Anyway, it means to me that painful events, although momentarily heartbreaking, aren't ultimately awful. At least they don't have to be. Because, if we really want to, we can use them to make us more compassionate, kind, thoughtful, understanding… So, while they begin as heartbreaks, they can end as gifts.'

May sighed. ‘Well, I like the theory, but I can't see how something like my dad leaving me could be a gift. Of course my life would have been better if it hadn't happened. And the same can be said of anything awful' – May paused to think of some awful things – ‘like death, divorce, any kind of devastation. I don't think…'

‘Yes, of course,' Faith said, ‘if you choose to see it and live with it like that, then you're right. But the point is it's really up to you. You can turn it into a gift; you can let the event either open your heart more or shut it down. Which, of course, you'd be perfectly within your rights to do, but it would mean you'd never be happy again.'

‘It's not that easy though,' May objected. ‘If you're angry and hurt, you can't just decide not to be.'

‘Oh, but you can,' Faith replied. ‘That's the first step. You can decide to begin to forgive your father, and you can begin to forgive yourself. You can decide to stop fighting reality, to let go of fairy tales and to start to surrender to the fact that we're all flawed and we're all in need of forgiveness. You can accept that life is both totally messed up and yet extraordinarily beautiful. Or you can keep on insisting that it should be different, more peaceful and less painful. But I'm afraid it is what it is, and it's up to you to make the best of it.'

May smiled. ‘I feel like a little kid, who's just been given a good talking to by her teacher.'

‘Well,' Faith said, giggling, ‘that's because it's time to realise that sometimes life is sweet, and sometimes it isn't, but refusing to forgive your dad will only make it sourer and mean that you won't give yourself the gift of having a child, even if you really want one.'

May couldn't help but smile at Faith's persuasive logic. ‘Yes, nice segue, oh crazy but brilliant cousin of mine.'

‘Right. Good, then stop worrying that everything will go wrong, 'cause even if it does, it doesn't really,' Faith said. ‘Have a baby, write a book, do whatever you want.'

May wished her cousin was there so she could give her a huge hug. ‘You are amazing,' she said instead.

‘Oh, I know,' Faith said lightly, ‘I know.'

For the rest of the day May sat at her desk, tapping her fingers on the wood, chewing the end of her pen, occasionally scribbling things down and then crossing them out. Five hours later the fog had cleared, the sun was starting to set behind the Golden Gate Bridge and May had a full, unblemished paragraph.

‘A little messy and a little perfect,' she said, after reading it through for the tenth time. ‘A great place to start.'

Doughnut jumped onto the desk and sat down on the page, his furry bum covering every word. May laughed and lifted him off.

‘I suppose having a child would be a bit like having a hundred cats, in which case I'd better postpone it for a while, or finish this book before she or he is born.'

She held Doughnut in her arms and walked slowly down the spiral staircase, recalling what Faith had said. It occurred to her that her cousin's wisdom could help create an interesting book, and she began thinking about how she could structure it. As she did so, May crossed the flat and descended the main staircase to see Ben, since she now had something rather important to say.

‘Are you sure?' Ben asked for the twentieth time as they lay in bed together. He had one hand on her belly and was gazing at her intently, his big brown eyes wide with hope. ‘Are you
really
sure?'

‘No,' May said with a small smile, ‘and since I can never know how this'll all turn out I don't think I ever will be. But I do know that I love you, that I feel the desire to do this deep in my heart, and that I'm ready for another…'

‘Crazy adventure?'

‘Yes,' May replied, grinning. ‘exactly.'

It didn't happen that month, or the next, or the sixth month after that. They kept trying, and May kept writing, and by the spring she had a new book. She showed it to Ben first, who loved it and kept promising he wasn't biased. And May believed him, since they had so far kept their agreement of compassionate honesty, no matter what. And now she wanted to show it to someone else – to Lily.

May had seen Lily every week since her return. They had dinner, with Megan and Ben, and saw each other at book readings and the like. May's agent still arranged various public-speaking engagements and other publicity events, and May went along with them as long as they were in good taste. She reinstated her own evenings of fun and inspiration, twice a week, talking to readers about their own men, money and chocolate challenges, and she tried her best to help. And, wherever she went, Ben was always in the front row.

This time May invited Lily for coffee and cake at The Tea Cup. May was early and stood chatting with Alice while she waited. A few months earlier she and Alice had founded the Insight & Inspiration Book Club and they spent many happy hours together trying out cake recipes and new books for the meetings.

‘Hi.' Lily tapped May on the shoulder.

‘Hey,' May said, turning round to hug her.

They bought cappuccinos and slices of caramel cake, and sat in the window, though this time Lily took the lucky chair.

‘Apparently that chair has witnessed many marriage proposals,' May said, taking a sip of coffee and a big bite of cake.

‘Oh yeah.' Lily smiled. ‘That's lovely, but I bet none of them were as utterly fabulous as mine.'

‘Really?' May asked, intrigued.

‘Oh, absolutely,' Lily said. ‘I asked Megan to marry me in our garden, at twilight, with a thousand fairy lights hanging through the trees. Of course, until they change the law, we can't actually get married. But since we've been unmarried for the last twenty-two years, I don't suppose a few more will make much difference.'

‘You asked her?'

‘Yes, why? D'you want tips?' Lily asked. ‘Is that why we're here?'

‘No,' May said, blushing. ‘I wrote a new book, I'd love you to read it.'

Lily's eyes lit up. ‘Now that is fabulous. I'd love to.'

May reached down and took the manuscript out of her bag and slid it across the table. Lily picked up the pages and read the title.

‘
Happier Than She's Ever Been
…' Lily smiled. ‘I don't suppose this would be another work of fiction based rather closely on fact, would it?'

‘Well, yes,' May admitted. ‘Yes, it might just be.'

‘Wonderful.' Lily slipped it into her bag. ‘Well then, I look forward to learning even more about you.'

‘Me, and my cousin, and Ben, and you…'

‘Me?' Lily looked surprised.

‘Yep, I've added some of your wisdom in there,' May explained. ‘I hope you don't mind. I can always change it, if you do.'

‘Mind? Why should I mind? I'm flattered. Now I'll look forward to reading it even more.' Lily smiled and, just for a moment, May felt as though her mum was there, sitting at the table and smiling.

‘What's the surprise?' Ben asked, as May led him through the gates of the Japanese Tea Garden.

‘It wouldn't be one if I told you now, would it?' May said, taking him over the bridge and towards the bench where they had first sat together, three years earlier.

‘Is it a good one?'

‘Yes, I think so.'

They reached the bench. Ben sat down, looking up expectantly. ‘Well?'

‘Patience isn't one of your virtues, is it?' May smiled.

‘Nope. So what is it?'

‘Well' – May started to kneel on the pebbled path – ‘it's not something to tell you; it's something to ask you.'

Ben started to smile.

‘So here goes.' May became serious. ‘Ben, will you –'

‘Yes. Yes. Yes.'

‘Hey, I haven't even asked you yet!'

‘Sorry,
bichana
, I couldn't wait. The suspense was killing me.'

‘Oh, come on…'