36. Maddie #2
He asks me to meet her in the next room. That is a real interview, and she asks me some tough questions, but we also click. She escorts me back to Tristan’s office and says, “It was a pleasure meeting you, and I look forward to working with you, so I hope you accept.”
“The sooner you can start, the better,” Tristan says. He radiates a confidence that I will accept the offer.
My phone beeps. The Manhattan District Attorney’s office is indicting Deputy Commissioner Ward.
I explain to Tristan why I have to go but that I’ll get back to him tonight.
I need some time to think it over. It should be an easy decision, but I’d grown up as a reporter at The Intelligencer , and even though I’d felt betrayed lately, I still had this feeling of loyalty.
I’d always envisioned myself as an Intelligencer reporter.
And what if this venture didn’t get off the ground?
The Intelligencer is established, although Tristan seems sure that he will succeed.
Plus, it makes sense to wait and not accept immediately to convey that I have options.
After I cover the indictment and write up an article for tomorrow’s paper, Jing comes by my desk.
“The interview with Twyla was great. And you looked healthier than you’ve been looking.”
That’s a polite way of saying I look much better with my hair washed.
“Amazing how they can cover dark shadows with makeup,” I say.
“How are you doing?” she asks. “My mom made you some dumplings. We could eat them in the park outside. It’s not that cold out today.”
“Sounds great,” I say.
We walk over to the park and sit on a bench to eat her mom’s delicious dumplings. The chicken broth inside feels like it’s replenishing my strength. I tell Jing all about the offer to work for The Carrier Pigeon and that I plan to accept it. She agrees that I should.
“You can’t report to Hayden,” she says. “He has no loyalty to you.”
“I know. I’ve realized that one of the most important things in a job is having a boss who cares about you, at least in terms of your career development,” I say.
“I wish they were hiring for their business section,” she says. “But those positions are practically impossible to get.”
As we savor the dumplings, I say, “I wish Nick and I hadn’t broken up. I made a mistake in questioning our relationship. I should have trusted in us.”
“Well, you can still get back together,” she says. “If you resign, you can give two weeks’ notice and take your vacation time and fly out to wherever he is performing.”
“Tristan said he wants me to start as soon as possible. But that would work because I have to give two weeks’ notice,” I say. “What if Nick has moved on?”
“Did you hear Nick’s latest song?” Jing asks. “I need to be upfront and tell you that I messaged Amira and Sayo and told them you were miserable, and they said Nick is miserable too. They’re worried about him because he’s not eating. They sent me this.”
It’s a video of Nick performing “Breaking My Heart.” The lyrics are about how helpless he felt hearing me cry, how he wanted to hold me and protect me, and instead he’d hurt me. How he can’t eat.
He heard me cry. That ridiculous, paper-thin wall. And here I thought I’d managed to convince him that I’d get over him.
I cry again. I’ve become such a blubbering mess since we broke up.
“The video isn’t over,” Jing says. “Look.”
The camera then pans to the audience with fans holding up signs: Go Get Your Girl! and We miss Maddie.
The video ends with Amira’s face filling the frame, saying, “He’s miserable without you. Please take him back.”
I want to.
But first, I need to accept this job offer. I call Tristan to accept.
“You won’t regret it,” he says.
“I wrote something about Nick and me. It’s not an article for the city desk, but maybe you’d still be interested in it once I come on board. It was about how I felt about Nick.”
“I’m interested,” Tristan says. “Especially if it’s an exclusive on your side of the story.”
After we hang up, I send him my love letter to Nick.
Then, I draft an email to Hayden, announcing my resignation and that I’m taking my vacation time for the next two weeks.
“You don’t want to tell him in person?” Jing asks, peering over my shoulder as we craft the text of my resignation.
“No,” I say. “I have no desire to see him again—ever.”
The late-afternoon air feels practically balmy.
“I think this calls for some champagne,” Jing says. “And then you need to look at flights. He’s playing in California this weekend.”
I’m going to fly out to Nick tomorrow and tell him that I want to get back together. That we need to tie our knot tighter this time. Maybe even a double knot.
I walk into my apartment, slightly tipsy from all the celebratory champagne and drinks with Jing and Iris at Craic and Laughs.
I thanked Iris for being Cybergirl and for defending me.
She said it was cathartic. I tilt my ear towards our shared wall.
I swear I hear Nick playing in the apartment next door.
As I feed Sherlock, I say, “Do you hear that music? Do I miss him so much now that I’m starting to hear his music everywhere? It was playing in the bar, so it’s stuck in my head, right?” Every time Nick’s song came on in the mix in the bar, a huge cheer went up. “That’s our guy!”
Sherlock meows.
I shake my head. Maybe it’s another neighbor playing his music. But it really sounds so much like him. My phone beeps.
Nick: I miss you.
Me: I miss YOU.
Nick: I wish I was with you on the fire escape.
Me: It’s much warmer in California.
I hope I can book a red eye to California.
Nick: Keeping track of where I am?
Yes, because I’m planning to surprise you. If MusEn invokes the morality clause and drops him, another label will pick him up. He’s proven himself now.
Me: Craic and Laughs was playing your songs tonight on repeat. A local celebrity. They want your autograph on a poster when you return so they can frame it.
Nick: Are you hanging out at Craic and Laughs without me? No one better be hitting on you.
Me: Says the man who is mobbed by women every time he leaves a concert.
Nick: There’s a gift for you on the fire escape.
He had to tell me on a night when I’m tipsy. I put Sherlock in the bathroom, which he doesn’t appreciate, put on my sneakers, and open the window.
It’s Nick!
“Nick!” I clamber out over my windowsill onto the fire escape. He pulls me into his arms. I melt against him. Nick. I’ve missed him so much. I hug him tightly. His body, so tense when I first embraced him, relaxes.
“It’s too public out here. Should we go back into your apartment?” he asks.
“Yes, plus Sherlock was not happy to be in the bathroom.”
We climb back through the window. Nick hands me his guitar before he climbs in behind me.
I let Sherlock out of the bathroom; he looks all huffy until he sees Nick, and then he hurries over to him and winds around his legs. Nick reaches for me and holds both my hands.
“You smell of champagne,” he says. “Here I thought you missed me.”
“I did miss you—so much. But you’re now speaking to a Carrier Pigeon city desk senior reporter! I resigned from The Intelligencer today and accepted an offer to be a senior reporter.”
“What? Tristan’s paper? Congratulations!”
“That’s why we were drinking champagne.” I nod very seriously. “I do miss you.”
Nick kisses me quickly on the lips. It’s so natural that I don’t register it for a moment. But then I stare at him.
“I love you, Maddie, and I want to get back together. I was going to fly you out to California and sing my latest song about how much I love you, but I wanted to tell you privately in person. So much of our lives will be public that I want this moment to be for the two of us.”
“I thought ‘Breaking My Heart’ was your public declaration.”
“It is. I’m still in trouble for playing that without clearing it first, but since the YouTube clips are going viral, they’ll forgive me.
I’ve basically written an album about our breakup.
And I’ve renegotiated some parts of our contract.
But this, this is ‘My Woman: The Only One,’” he says. “You’re the only one for me, Maddie.”
He slips his guitar on and sits on my bed, patting the spot next to him. I sit there as Nick sings to me, his graceful hands sure as they pluck the chords. My heart is beating so fast.
The lyrics are raw.
I found the one,
but for so many reasons (all of which I regret),
I didn’t blurt out how I feel. And now I sit here alone,
thinking of her smile and how it lights up my soul.
But there’s no Band-Aid that’s going to cure my broken heart.
There’s only one for me.
Maybe someday I’ll be whole again.
She’s my woman.
Thinking of how she nibbles her lips when she’s thinking hard
and how that makes me want to kiss her and distract her.
Thinking of how she carries supplies and surprises in her bag.
Prepared for anything.
But there’s no Band-Aid that’s going to cure my broken heart.
There’s only one for me.
Maybe someday I’ll be whole again.
She’s my woman.
My eyes tear. I kiss him again when he finishes. “I love you. You’re the only one for me too. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’m so happy The Carrier Pigeon recognized your worth and hired you,” he says.
“I also wrote an article where I tell everybody how much I love you and miss you. I sent it to Tristan to see if he will publish it.”
“You wrote that in an article?”
“It helps me to write out my feelings, and I wanted to fight for us.”
I open my draft on my phone and show it to Nick, and he reads it, his eyes watering.
“I’m framing this,” he says.
I hug him again because I missed him so much.
“Your Valentine’s Day gift also arrived after we’d broken up.” I give him a personalized wood box with four wooden guitar picks. I love you, Nick. Love, Maddie is engraved on the first one. And then the next three have I pick you forever. M & N engraved on them.
“I love it,” he says. “And I pick you, Maddie Hughes.”