Happier Than She's Ever Been... (9 page)

If she'd been fit enough, May would have run the thirty blocks home. As it was she hurried, scurried and crawled. She pushed open the front door, panting, ran the final few steps through the bookshop, up the spiral staircase and into the kitchen where she found Ben still sitting at the table, staring off into space.

‘I'm so, so, so sorry, sweetheart,' May said, as he looked up. ‘I didn't mean, well, I did, because I really lost my way and…'

Ben smiled and opened his arms and May, wondering for a moment if he had psychically attended Harry's forgiveness seminar, ran round the table and rushed right into him, almost knocking them both over.

‘I love you, I love you, I love you,' May gushed, kissing him all over his cheeks, his neck, his hair…

‘I love you too, you crazy girl,' Ben said, laughing. ‘Welcome back.'

F
AME

May was back and, for the next few weeks, everything was fine. Life resumed as normal and May made concerted efforts to really be with Ben when she was with him, instead of getting distracted by thoughts of her book and the upcoming TV show. Of course, with life always being a learning experience, she didn't succeed all the time. But whenever Ben saw May getting distracted, lost in fantasies of the future, he gently brought her back by saying something funny or giving her magnificent kisses that left her blinking and wondering what day of the week it was.

It seemed as though nothing would rock their relationship. But then, as is so often the case, the next challenge came along. If only, May would later think, the TV show had happened later. If only they'd had longer to cement the newfound trust, forgiveness, compassion and empathy between them. If only she'd known better than to make the same mistake twice. But, of course life doesn't work with ‘if only', and perhaps that's just as well or there'd be reason to be lost in regret all the time.

As the day of the TV show dawned, May and Ben pottered around, practising real love in the face of imperfection, with no idea how hard they were about to be hit. The morning was a beautiful one. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and May, unable to sleep from nerves, had got up early to make fresh coffee and bake blueberry scones, even though it wasn't Sunday. They ate breakfast together, May excited and terrified about her upcoming appearance on national television and Ben proud and reassuring her she'd be wonderful.

Three hours and twelve dress changes later, they were driving across town in Ben's cream-and-black VW Bug.

‘Hey,
bichana
, what time is Lily getting there?' he asked.

‘An hour before the show,' May replied while chewing her fingernail. ‘It's going to be awful, I'm going to freeze, I can't remember why I'm doing this.'

‘Because you've written a beautiful book, inspirational and passionate, that is changing people's lives,' Ben reassured her, ‘and you want to tell as many people about it as possible.'

‘Oh yeah, that,' May said, letting herself smile a little. ‘Now I remember:
what you have is your gift from God. And what you do with what you have is your gift to God.
'

‘Exactly,' Ben said, ‘and will you say that to the world when you get the chance? Tell me what you've been rehearsing for the last month.'

‘Okay, right, yes.' May laughed. ‘That I believe in miracles and magic and more than we can see… that life takes care of us if we let it. I don't understand tragedies, but I think a great deal of personal suffering is self-created. I believe in courage, compassion and connection – with long spoons – and that bringing joy to someone else is the biggest joy you'll ever have. And that's what I've always wanted to do with my book.'

‘
Long spoons?
' Ben asked. ‘That's new. Did you add it?'

‘Oh, yes, that.' May smiled and said, ‘Well, I heard this story once from some inspirational fellow. It was about heaven and how it's like a magnificent dinner party, every guest having one long spoon which they can't feed themselves with, only the person sitting across them at the table. So everyone has to feed everyone else. I remember thinking it was a wonderful metaphor about connection, taking care of people and what brings us the most joy.'

Ben watched the road, smiling to himself and wondering if he could possibly ever love the woman sitting next to him more than he did in that moment.

Six hours later they were back in the centre of San Francisco, walking along the pavement, hand in hand, on their way to a romantic dinner.

‘I was okay, wasn't I?'

‘You were magnificent, absolutely magnificent.'

‘Really?' May asked. ‘Really?'

Ben pulled her close and kissed her. ‘Yes, for the millionth time, really.'

‘I think I remembered to say everything I meant to,' May said. ‘I talked a lot about courage, didn't I? Maybe a little too much, and about always having compassion for yourself, how finding your passion in life is the best diet there is… what else? Oh yes…'

While May chattered away, Ben touched the little ring box in the right-hand pocket of his trousers. He'd been carrying it around for three days and nights now, and wondered if tonight would be the night. He thought perhaps he should wait until tomorrow, since this meal was supposed to celebrate May's first ever TV appearance. But then perhaps a proposal would be the perfect end to a perfect day. At least that's what he hoped.

‘What are you thinking about?'

‘Oh, what? Sorry.' May's question brought Ben back. ‘Nothing. I'm fine.'

‘I'm not fine,' May said, grinning. ‘I'm so completely and utterly happy, I can't quite believe it.' She turned to him. ‘You know, I've decided I don't want to be a multi-million-dollar bestselling author.'

‘Oh?' Ben raised a quizzical eyebrow.

‘No,' May continued, ‘I mean, I'd love for a million people to read
Men, Money and Chocolate
and have it support and inspire them all. But I don't want to be rich and famous. I don't want to be sucked into the world of Comparison, Control and Crazy –'

‘Eh?' Ben frowned, wondering what on earth she was talking about and how much he'd missed while thinking about his proposal.

‘Oh, it's just something Lily said…' May trailed off. ‘Anyway, I love the life I have – with you, running the bookshop, hopefully helping the women who come to me, knowing what's real and what matters. I don't think I could handle fame and fortune anyway. Apparently it's like heroin: you get a stab of it and you're sucked into the unreality of a world where all that matters is success, appearances, being better and more brilliant than everyone else in the room.' May thought back to the days when she sat on her sofa eating boxes of cookies and tubs of ice cream. ‘And, given how I used to be with chocolate, I don't think I'd stand much of a chance with heroin. Or cocaine…'

Ben gripped the little ring box, preparing himself, thinking this might be the perfect time. He'd just wait for her to finish.

‘Maybe some people can handle it without losing their hearts and their heads, but I doubt I could. I mean, we witnessed that last month, right, what I'm like when I lose myself in something.' May smiled. ‘In fact you'd better watch out with me; I think I have a bit of an addictive personality. You should have seen me back in England when I was miserable and eating every cookie, croissant and chocolate cake in sight…'

Ben cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. But before he could say anything, May glanced up to see that they'd reached the restaurant.

‘Hey, wonderful,' she said, grinning. ‘We're here, I'm so hungry I could easily eat a whole chocolate cake right now.'

They fell through the doorway, laughing and stuffed full of food.

‘I never said I had fat toes,' May objected, giggling. ‘You're making it up.'

‘Oh, yes, you did. I remember you wiggling your toes as you said it.'

‘Well, since the show was live, it's my word against yours,' May said triumphantly, ‘and I choose to believe mine.'

‘Oh, didn't I tell you? I recorded it.' Ben rushed into the living room to the television. ‘So now we'll know the truth.'

May ran after him and they both collapsed onto the sofa. She clutched her stomach, giggling. ‘I ate far, far too much food. If I laugh again I think I'm gonna be sick.'

‘Not on my red leather couch you're not,' Ben said. ‘Hey, May, there's something I wanna ask you.'

‘Okay.' May sat up a little, not for a moment suspecting what it was going to be. ‘I'm listening.' Then her eye caught the flashing red light on the answer phone. ‘Oh my goodness, we've got sixty-three messages!'

‘What?' Ben sat up and peered at it. ‘Who on earth…?'

‘Maybe it's just from friends who saw me on TV today,' May sighed a little. ‘Oh my goodness, how completely and utterly mortifying.' Though secretly she was really rather touched. ‘Hey, maybe Faith called, which reminds me I must call her. But, sorry, what was it you wanted to say?'

‘It can wait a sec. Let's listen to these first.' Ben pressed the playback button. And for the next ten minutes they heard messages from the assistants of every book agent, newspaper editor and TV producer in San Francisco and beyond. They'd all seen, or at least heard about, the show and they wanted to talk. They
loved
the book title. They
loved
May's story. And, of course, they
loved
May. After every single message had played, Ben and May turned to each other.

‘Wow,' he said.

‘Wow,' she said.

‘It's pretty amazing,' Ben admitted. ‘What are you going to do?'

May shrugged as though she hadn't really thought about it, as though she wasn't really considering it, as though it didn't matter much to her at all. ‘I don't know.'

Ben felt a small puff of panic float up inside him. Trying hard not to show it on his face, he prayed he wasn't about to lose her all over again. ‘Well…'