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From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Happy New Yeeeeear!
Happy New Year, Rhys! I’m so happy you’re enjoying yourself there. I looked for the place on Google, obviously, and you’re right, it looks like one of those dreamlands that don’t exist anymore. Have you met lots of people? My guess is yes. I don’t know how you can hang out with so many people being all closed up and reserved the way you are. How do you do it, Rhys? I don’t think I ever asked.
I didn’t do anything that special last night. After dinner I went to the bar where Donna works, drank a few glasses of wine, and hung out with some friends of hers till her shift ended. Then we went somewhere else. I had a good time, but it also felt weird.
Tomorrow it’s back to the dorms.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: Why?
I don’t do anything special. I just hang out with people. But I get what you’re saying. I guess I offer every person what they expect of me. It’s easy.
Why did you feel weird the other night?
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: Why?
Do you also give me what you think I expect of you?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: Why?
No. That’s why you’re my only real friend.
You didn’t answer my question.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Weirdness
I don’t know, I don’t want to make this complicated, but I keep thinking about what happened between us. It almost doesn’t seem real, you know? And I’m sorry that things have been different or weird since then, but they have been, right? Am I crazy? Or have you noticed too? I guess it’s normal, but at the same time, I don’t want anything to change. I don’t even really know what I’m writing…
It’s just, Rhys, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: Weirdness
It was real. It was perfect. But you said it…don’t let anything change. We’re good like this, right, Ginger? Someday you’ll meet someone else, someone special, and you’ll think just that: I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Listen to me.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: RE: Weirdness
Okay. I get it. You’re right.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Weirdness
Ginger…don’t listen to me.
That’s just what I was scared of.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Forget it
I know, Rhys. I’m sorry. These weeks have just been so up and down, between Christmas, going back to the dorms, realizing that I barely have a few days to present my work proposal for graduation…
I’m freaking out. I don’t know what to do.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: Forget it
Imagine yourself leading a company. What do you see?
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: The reality is…
I see a warehouse full of wooden samples and sawdust. Further off, to the right, I see a long gray hallway that leads to the offices where the managers meet with the PR people, the board, and the designers. That’s what I see, Rhys. I guess I could focus on the job differently, somehow, examining the company as it exists, looking at the weak points or possible areas of improvement. But if my father reads it, he’ll probably have a heart attack. And I’m afraid my professor will fall asleep during my evaluation. Let’s be honest, no one gets excited about cabinets. Kate is doing an amazing project (she started a month ago) about an electric car company that rents to tourists. I wish I could just steal it from her.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: Change reality
The cabinet doesn’t have to be the be-all and end-all of your future, does it? Forget cabinets for a second, and imagine what kind of company you’d like to run if you had the means to do so. You told me that when we met, right, that you loved the idea of running something? Creating. So think of it like that. What would your dream be? (It doesn’t matter if it’s just that, a dream.)
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: Change reality
I’ve been thinking about it all day…
And I think… I don’t know… I imagined a publisher. A little one, right? Nothing too pretentious. I’ve never been tempted by the idea of writing, but every time I read a book, I wonder not just about the writer, but about the person who decided to publish the book when it hit their desk—who got excited, looked at the letters and words, and saw potential, something interesting that needed to be shared with people. Isn’t that something? I mean, almost everything in life is like a chain. Like dominoes, one falls, and the rest just go along with it, but there’s always got to be something that starts it, a spark, even if we don’t think about it much of the time. Things are so weird… I’m going to stop rambling.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: Change reality
I love it when you ramble. And I like your ideas even more. Tell me, what would your publisher be like? How would you focus your work?
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Okay, let’s ramble then…
The project is to develop a business plan with hard numbers and strong proposals, just like if I was putting it together for investors, understand? There are many different aspects, and I have to take a global approach, looking at the economic and social aspects, anticipating possible roadblocks, looking at my location, the competition, the market as it exists, strategy…
I don’t want to bore you. I probably am though…
I think I avoided thinking about it until now because what’s the point? I always knew what I was going to do when I graduate… I knew it even before I started college. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not dying from excitement, but I’m grateful. Not everyone has a family business. I’m lucky.
I guess I can dream though, right?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: Okay, let’s ramble then…
You can always dream, okay? Before and after leaving college. Who knows? It’s impossible to predict what we’ll be doing in ten years. Or are you really so sure?
I think I get the idea behind the project…
I wish you’d tell me how you imagine it. Your publisher, I mean, if it existed. What would it be like? The décor, the mood, going in every morning.
Come on, take a walk on the moon once in a while. It’s not so bad up here.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Ten years
Okay, look, however tempted I am to take a mental trip to the moon and let my fantasies of outer space carry me away, in another, parallel life, if I did decide to start an independent publisher, I couldn’t afford an office in a good area of downtown, not even a little one, so I’d locate my offices somewhere in West London, for example. Somewhere calm but easy to get to.
I imagine a small but nice office. With light and plants (even if we both know finding light is almost impossible in this city). The walls: white or some warm color, soft ocher maybe. The furnishings should be in different styles and different colors, I don’t want the place to look like a hospital. And shelves, obviously. Lots of white shelves lining the (wide) hallways and the meeting room.
The working environment should be optimal, of course. I’d be a flexible boss and really nice; every morning I’d bring in coffee and cakes. My employees would never criticize me. The only things they’d ever say behind my back would be stuff like, Did you see what a cute blouse Ginger’s wearing? She looks amazing in that color. In the midst of all that positive energy, we’d publish one or two books a month, maybe less. I like the idea of carefully choosing each project, taking good care of it, giving it space, making it shine as much as possible.
Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself…
As far as your question, yes, Rhys, I do pretty much know what my life will be like in ten years. I’ll be working at my family’s company, I’ll be happy when I take the reins and make improvements, I’ll be married, maybe, or be close to getting married. I’ll be living in a two-story home with an attic, and I’ll have a dog. Or a cat. I haven’t decided, but I’ve got time to figure it out.
How do you see yourself in ten years?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: Ten years
For someone who supposedly doesn’t want to walk around all the time on the moon, I’d say you’ve spent a lot of time up there lately. I like that, Ginger. I like that little fantasy of yours, and I can almost imagine you between the shelves, listening to your employees’ murmurs as they compliment that T-shirt that fits you so well. (Is it low-cut? I need details.)
For right now, your biggest question then is whether you’ll have a cat or a dog. I don’t know if it makes sense, but I haven’t stopped laughing since I read that. It’s no surprise that I’m aimless by comparison. And you know what? You were right, I don’t know where I’ll be in ten years. It scares me to think about it. I’ll be thirty-seven. What are people that age supposed to do?
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: I’m going to kill you!
Oh God. Oh God. OH GOD.
I’m going to kill you, Rhys. How could you? Today is exactly one year since we met. It’s our friendiversary. AND I JUST REALIZED YOU HAD A BIRTHDAY AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME. SO OBVIOUS. I don’t know how I never realized it. Oh wait, yes, I do. BECAUSE YOU NEVER TOLD ME.
When was your birthday, Rhys?
CONFESS.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: I’m going to kill you!
It’s not that big a deal, Ginger. It’s just a birthday. I didn’t even think about it. But if you’re so interested, it’s August 13. I don’t like celebrating it though.
So today’s our friendiversary. (I’ll try not to repeat that outside this email to keep my pride intact.) So tonight, one year ago, you and I were walking through the streets of Paris. And dancing to “Je T’aime…Moi Non Plus.” And eating cup noodles. And looking at that moon you sometimes avoid…
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: You’re the worst
I know your tactics, Rhys. You get (me) all sentimental to try to make me forget about your birthday, when we both know it was an out-and-out betrayal. We’re going to celebrate our friendiversary. (It’s a cool expression; I don’t know what you’re so embarrassed about. I want to throw open the windows and scream it to the world.) You visit me for my birthday, and I don’t even get to visit you for yours?!
Give me your address. I’ll send you a present.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: I’m the best
You’re the funniest girl I know. Did I ever tell you that? Seriously, I can’t read your messages without smiling, and I don’t mind admitting smiling isn’t my thing. But you’re blowing everything out of proportion. I just don’t like getting older. I already told you my favorite story when I was little was Peter Pan . And thinking about what I’ll be doing in ten years—screw that. Same for presents. Presents get on my damn nerves. Not the way you do—I like that—but in the bad way. So, Ginger Snap, let’s forget all this and stick with the original thing: I’m twenty-seven, got it?
Would you really have visited me anyway? We both know the answer’s no. I was in LA, and I remember you turned me down when I extended an invite.
PS: I love you getting sentimental over me.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: You’re not the best
Rhys, let’s be serious. You invited me to visit one night when you were drunk, and I barely had time to respond before you had a so-called friend named Sarah at your place. She and I probably would have walked past each other through the front door. I don’t know if you realize that.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: I sure am
Do I notice a bit of anger?
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: Come down to earth
No, Rhys, I’m not angry. I just wanted to say that what you offered me was anything but an invitation. This whole thing is because of you not telling me about your birthday. And your fear of getting old. Give me your address, and let’s stop worrying about it.
BTW, I started my project. I like it so much, I was up late mapping it out. I thought about interviewing the heads of some small publishers in town and maybe even including that as an appendix. Obviously my focus would be on the business side.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: Come down to earth
Fine, address below, but I don’t know how the mail system works here. My mother sent me a package a couple of weeks ago, and it still hasn’t arrived. I live outside of town in a house that looks like it’s about to collapse. I’ll send you a photo later on, but it’s getting dark out, and I’m writing from the porch. The sky’s red. Not pink or orange, intense red like a ripe cherry. I wish you could see all this, Ginger…
I like the idea of those interviews.
And I like hearing you’re excited.
But what you said is wrong. I’m not afraid of getting old. I just like (but am also freaked out by) living with uncertainty. Not knowing what I’ll be doing, not having a plan. It’s addictive. I don’t think you can understand, Ginger, but there’s something freeing about it. Thinking that maybe I’ll be in India next year or New York or here. And the bad part…well, I guess that implies certain things. You know. Solitude. Or the feeling that I’m just treading water sometimes. But I like that. I don’t think I would know how to live otherwise now. And I don’t feel like stopping to think about what I should do or my future plans or what my life will be like in ten years. Maybe I’ll be dead. That’s how hard to predict it all is.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: RE: Come down to earth
Dammit, Rhys, don’t say that. If you were here, I’d hit you. I know it’s true, that the possibility exists that we won’t be in this world in ten years, but it doesn’t even cross my mind. And it shouldn’t cross yours.
You want to know how I imagine you?
Victorious. I think you’re going to end up putting out a song, probably while you’re working in some bar, and hundreds or thousands of people will hear it. Millions. You’ll get famous, you’ll be walking around looking all tough and melancholy, and it will drive your fans (or do you prefer the term groupies ?) wild. Probably you’ll have a kid with some Russian model with an impossible-to-pronounce last name.
And you’ll still be free and off traveling.
What do you say? Is that tempting?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: [No subject]
First off, yeah, I like groupies way better. Thanks. And second, if I had a kid with some Russian model with an impossible-to-pronounce last name, I wouldn’t still be off traveling. I mean, maybe, if I got custody or whatever. I don’t even know why we’re wasting our time imagining this nonsense. Anyway, I wanted you to know I wouldn’t let my kid grow up far away from me. I don’t know why you’d think that.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: [No subject]
I don’t know, I guess you just don’t seem like someone who would enjoy having a schedule and responsibilities and all that. I was just joking, Rhys. Just being silly.
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: [No subject]
Anyway, I know how to use a condom, so you can discard that theory. I’m working a double tonight, so I’m going to try and get some sleep. XXX