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Authors: Menna van Praag

Tags: #Spiritual Fiction

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BOOK: Happier Than She's Ever Been...
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Half an hour later they were sitting together, drinking coffee and chatting, while sunlight shone through the window, bathing them both in a warm glow.

‘Lily was my mother's name,' May said, because she didn't know what else to say and because she'd been thinking about it since yesterday.

‘I remember reading that in your book,' Lily said, smiling, ‘but didn't know if it was true or not. I wondered how much of it was autobiographical.'

‘Almost all of it,' May admitted. ‘I suppose perhaps I don't have much of an imagination.'

‘Oh, I doubt that,' Lily said, ‘and anyway, it takes courage to write like that, to expose your heart for everyone else to see.'

‘Well, to be honest,' May said, ‘I never really imagined very many people ever would. When I sold my hundredth book I was so surprised I –'

‘You know,' Lily interrupted, laughing, ‘if you want to make it over here, you might want to acquire a bit of shameless self-confidence. We don't really do self-deprecating modesty and all that. After all, how can you expect other people to believe in you, if you don't even believe in yourself ?'

‘Yes, I see, of course.' May nodded, rather worried she might have just put Lily off entirely. ‘I understand.'

‘Good.' Lily settled back in her chair. ‘I'm glad. Especially since your book is so much about teaching women courage and confidence, it'd be a little unfair if you didn't live like that yourself. And I wouldn't want to be the only one of us who believes in you.'

‘Really?' May's eyes widened. ‘You do? Yes, well, and I, um, I do too.'

May maintained an earnest gaze until Lily winked and they both burst into simultaneous giggles. May relaxed after that and they talked until long after The Tea Cup had officially closed, and Alice had retired to the kitchen to clean. They discovered they shared many similarities: personally, emotionally, historically… But underneath all the words lay an unspoken sense of connection, there since the moment they'd met and that only deepened the longer they sat together. Lily was delighted the young author was every bit as lovely as her prose. And May felt, for the first time in fourteen years, that she'd met someone who had the same spirit as her mother.

‘We should go,' Lily said finally. ‘I think we might have outstayed our welcome.'

‘Yes,' May said, feeling as though she was on a date she didn't want to end. ‘I suppose we should.'

After thanking their host, they stepped outside into darkness, onto a street lined with trees and fairy lights. They stood for a little while outside the café, chatting under the glow of a bright full moon that hung low in the sky. When they both started to shiver in the autumn breeze, they at last hugged goodbye. Lily crossed the road to her car and May turned to walk the thirty blocks home, waving at Alice through the window and giving her the thumbs up with both hands.

They'd decided to meet the next day at Lily's offices, where they'd sign the contract. The book would be published in six months. Lily would advance May a few thousand dollars and apply to extend her visa under the employment programme. She had it all covered. And in six short months
Men, Money and Chocolate
would be in bookshops all over America, or at least parts of it. Now thousands of women would have the chance to read May's story, to hopefully find inspiration and comfort in its twists and turns. May might lift their hearts and bring a little joy into their lives. Just the thought of it made her giddy.

As she meandered home, gazing up at the moon through the shifting clouds May felt as though she was looking at the floor of heaven: luminous cracked marble scattered with bright pinpricks of light. And she hoped her mother was gazing down at her, grinning from ear to ear to witness the happiest day of her daughter's life.

W
ISDOM

‘
W
e'll have the book launch here,' Ben said, ‘won't we?'

‘Of course we will,' May replied, laughing. ‘Where else could it be? This is the only place in the world I'd have it, even if they offered me the Empire State Building.'

Ben smiled. ‘I'm not sure they hold book launches there, but I'm touched you want it here. I'll invite every customer I've ever had and every single person I've ever met. You bake five hundred cupcakes and we'll be set.'

‘I still can't believe it.' May beamed. ‘I still can't quite believe it.'

It was two months until Publication Day, and May could hardly think about anything else. Conversations about book covers, manuscript edits, reading dates, tours and publicity left little room for other topics.

Ben was wonderful throughout it all. He listened to every concern she had, read through all the edits she wanted to make, helped to plan events, even called magazine and newspaper editors when May was too shy. For her part May continued to work in the bookshop, although she often came late and left early to do something or other connected with her book. She'd kiss Ben on the cheek as she was flying in or out and thank him yet again for everything. She still held her twice-weekly cake and inspiration evenings, but everything else they'd done together was put on hold. And he noticed, as the weeks and months went by, that she flew out faster and no longer stopped to let her lips linger for long. He began to feel himself pushed to the edge of May's world, and the only sure-fire way he could get her attention any more was to talk about the book. But Ben understood that the realisation of a lifelong dream always needed to be honoured, and he believed the obsession would settle down into pure passion once May saw her books on shelves and knew that the dream wasn't an illusion after all. When she had really done it. When it had come true. Then Ben imagined May would start writing again; they would go out on dates again, make love more often and even have entire conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with literature or helping the female population with their love lives or weight worries at all. And until that day he would wait. Although he had to admit that, after almost four months of this, that day couldn't come soon enough.

‘Hum, it's still not quite right,' May mused. ‘What if we make the gold lettering shiny instead of matt?'

It was long past midnight. Lily and May had been staring at the new book cover proofs for the last five hours, batting ideas back and forth.

‘I really liked the other one by that other author,' May said, waving one hand towards the computer.

‘With the moon – can't we make it more like that?'

‘Sure,' Lily said sleepily, ‘sure we can. But…'

‘But?' May looked up.

‘Why don't we talk about it tomorrow?'

‘Yeah, okay, of course. I'll study more covers, other authors' websites, and bring you more ideas. It needs to be noticeable, so women pick it off the shelves, so they read it.' May thought of her Tuesday and Thursday night audiences. ‘Otherwise it'll be wasted, which would be such a shame. I really think it might touch a lot of lives, help a lot of people. I don't mean to be arrogant, 'cause it's not really about me; it's about them. I never thought it possible before, but now I see how it touches the women who love it and… anyway, what time shall I come over?'

‘Honey.' Lily reached across the table and placed her palm over May's, giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘I echo your feelings for wanting to help the whole world entirely – that's why I'm publishing your wonderful little book – but you're in danger of having your altruistic impulses corrupted by obsessing and thinking about it all too much. Also, given the lures of any venture into fame and fortune, no matter how slight, you must be careful about not getting sucked into the wild and not-at-all-wonderful world of Comparison, Control and Crazy. I think you might want to let go a little. Stop thinking about it. Step back. Why don't you take a few days off ?'

‘What?' May frowned, nervous. ‘Why? I'm fine. Aren't we fine? I thought we were fine.'

Lily just looked at her with a kind smile. May bit her lip, puzzling.

‘What do you mean anyway?' May asked. ‘About the not-at-all-wonderful world of Comparison, Con–'

‘Comparison, Control and Crazy,' Lily finished, ‘is the world you step into whenever you leave your private comfort zone for the public arena. You stop to survey your surroundings; you take a look around to see who's out there in the public eye with you. And if you're not careful you lose yourself completely in comparing yourself to those materially more successful than you. Then in an attempt to gain back your sanity you lose yourself even more by desperately trying to control everything, especially those things you have absolutely no hope of controlling: like how popular you are, how many books you sell, or how many friends you have on Facebook. Just everyday ridiculous things like that. And after a few weeks is when the crazy settles in… And, sadly, by then you might have been so corrupted that you've forgotten all about wanting to help people, the reason you started in the first place.'

‘I won't forget,' May said. ‘I don't even want to be famous. I can't imagine anything more embarrassing.'

‘Yes, my love, I know that's true,' Lily said. ‘I know that's who you really are and it's one of the many reasons I love you. But fame is a drug that few are immune to. It's like a daily dose of heroin and it's nearly impossible not to get addicted.'

‘Well, but –' May looked a little panicked. ‘But surely I can control those things. I can publicise my book, invite people to events, do readings, TV, magazines, and just focus on
why
I'm doing it and not get lost in…'

‘Oh, my dear, sweet May,' Lily said, ‘I hope so, but I worry for you anyway, and I have to tell you now while you're still innocent and uncorrupted. Because if you do become addicted to the fame drug, then you'll stop listening to anything Ben or I might say. You'll become a completely different person, not lovely little May any more.'

‘No,' May said. ‘No, I can't. I won't let that happen. Never. Not in a million years.'

‘I'm sure you wouldn't want it to, but such drugs can corrupt the purest of us. We can all lose our souls and our centres in the desire for things like love, popularity, wealth, chocolate…' Lily winked. ‘Didn't you write a book about that?'

May managed a smile. ‘Yes, of course, I know what you mean. I just think, well, I've learnt my lessons there and I wouldn't make those mistakes again.'

‘I know you'll try,' Lily said, ‘and I know you wrote the book both to do something courageous and then to help other women in their own lives. You were doing it for self-fulfilment rather than success, which is right and wonderful. But as you carry on down the path, making choices about what to do now and next, remember always to ask yourself if it's an impulse that springs from the purity of your heart, or from the desires and demands of your mind.'

May sat back in her chair. ‘What do you mean?'

‘The mind tells you what you want,' Lily said, ‘and often those things are pieced together from what you think is wrong with you and your life. So you want to fix it. If you want fame and fortune because you don't think your life is enough as it is, and you don't think that you're perfect just as you are, then it will only end in heartache. If you don't get enough of it – and it'll never be enough then – you're unhappy, and if you get it you're unhappy too. Because, as you well know, self-fulfilment might precede success, but it's never a product of it.'

‘Why?' May asked. ‘Why does it work like that?'

‘Because those desires go against the wisdom of the heart.'

‘What's that?'

‘The heart has true desires that have nothing to do with making you a better person, or your life a better life,' Lily explained. ‘The heart only expresses itself; it doesn't want anything more than that. Just to be heard. Just to reach out and touch others; that's all it wants.'

BOOK: Happier Than She's Ever Been...
13.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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