Chapter 20
“Hi, Mommy,” Lucy said distractedly while working out how to jump Rebecca’s king.
Rebecca said to Lucy, “Take your time with this next move while I chat with your mommy outside for a minute. Before you commit, try your hardest to imagine how I might respond.”
Then Rebecca stood up and pointed her chin toward the door, tugging William by the elbow on the way out. “Let’s go hear Thea’s news.”
I wasn’t sure why they thought my news required privacy, unless they were concerned it was something about Max, but I followed Rebecca and William out the door anyway.
With the sun beaming on my face, I reached for the words I’d rehearsed in the car.
“So, um, after all the little things I’ve avoided telling you directly the past couple of years—whether from immaturity, procrastination, or anxiety—I wanted to be certain you’d hear this news straight from my mouth.
” For some reason, as I prepared to say these next words out loud to Sam’s parents, my beloved family, the moment felt like a rite of passage.
They glanced at each other with barely concealed trepidation.
“Don’t worry, it’s good news.” Clearly I’d conditioned them to expect the worst from me lately, which made me feel more than a little ashamed.
But at least this news was something we could all rejoice in.
“I heard from my agent, Harper, this morning, and it appears that we officially have a bestselling author in the family!”
William’s arms were around me in a bear hug before I finished the sentence. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. Wowzer! If only Sam were here to be a part of this. Can you imagine how happy he would have been?”
I looked over at Rebecca, who still hadn’t spoken. For an instant, her face was the color of ash. But then she seemed to shake off whatever worry had encroached and stepped forward to enfold me in her arms. “Congratulations, honey. What a tremendous accomplishment.”
“Thanks, you guys,” I said. “I couldn’t have done this without your support, and I’ll always be grateful to you for not holding it against me that I kept the fact I was writing this book a secret.
I hope you know it was never personal. I needed to do this for myself, and I was afraid I wasn’t strong enough to resist being talked out of it.
” Even as I said it, those words seemed inadequate. I needed to do better. To be better.
“No more secrets,” I promised.
“We’re always happy for more time with Lucy, whatever the reason,” William said. “Right, hon?”
“Absolutely.” Rebecca smiled. “And thank you for saying that. We know you weren’t trying to hurt us, but—” Her weary expression made me wince, as it made clear that hurting them was exactly what I’d done. “Well, anyway, never mind. That’s all in the past. We hope you know you can tell us anything.”
“Thanks, that means a ton.” And then, maybe just to prove to myself that I could indeed be open and honest about my feelings, I added, “I have to confess, I’m kind of in shock. I mean, can you believe I’m a bestselling author? Yet another thing that I imagined in my book and then it came true!”
A quizzical glance passed between them.
“What do you mean?” Rebecca asked.
After all this time, had they really not bothered to read my book?
“What I mean is . . .” I groaned on the inside.
“First, I randomly meet a man who’s the spitting image of Zach.
” Their eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You know, Zach? The astronaut in my book? The love interest who was based on the things I loved most about Sam?” When this explanation didn’t seem to register, either, I plowed on.
“And now, just as improbably, I’ve written my first bestseller—exactly like my protagonist did in the book.
” I laughed. “I don’t know, but with all these coincidences, I’m suddenly thinking my next book should be about a child tennis prodigy who goes on to have all the success her late father never got to experience. What do you think, William?”
William cleared his throat. “Well, I guess as long as we also commit to hard work and a solid training plan, a little wishful thinking can’t hurt.” But then he looked over my shoulder and his eyes shuttered. I spun around and caught Rebecca’s open-mouthed gape.
“Oh, come on, Rebecca,” I teased. “Is there no room at all for magic or serendipity in your life?”
Her face contorted. “Coincidence is not—”
“I won, Grandma,” Lucy said, poking her head out the door.
“Is that so? I think I’d like a rematch,” Rebecca said to Lucy, cleverly indulging her granddaughter’s flexible rules while not letting her off the hook entirely. “I have an idea. How about if you two come over for a swim and celebration dinner?”
“Yay! Can we, Mommy?” Lucy jumped up and down. “What’s a celebration dinner?”
Although what I really wanted was to go home and eat macaroni and cheese with Lucy in the privacy of our own apartment and revel in my new status as a bestselling author while waiting for Max to text back, I couldn’t refuse this kindness. “Thanks, Rebecca. That would be great.”
Then I bent over to answer Lucy’s question. “A celebration dinner is where we eat dinner while celebrating something happy. Tonight we’re celebrating that a lot of people are reading Love You to Mars and Back.”
Present company excluded? LOL.
As it turned out, a dip-and-dine was just what the doctor ordered.
Before dinner, I floated around in the pool on a turquoise raft with an Aperol Spritz, soaking up the late-afternoon sun and handing out a generous number of perfect tens in my role as judge and jury of Lucy’s underwater handstands.
Even with only a few hours’ notice, Rebecca and William managed to pull off a truly celebratory meal—rib eye steak and corn on the cob, both grilled to perfection by William, a gorgeous caprese salad with the most delicious heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil from the local farmers’ market, and a loaf of ciabatta from our favorite bakery.
Not to mention an insanely delicious berry tart for dessert.
We ate out on the patio with a view of the pool and the hydrangeas and begonias in full bloom in Rebecca’s spectacular garden.
When Lucy finished eating, Rebecca suggested she go watch an episode of Wild Kratts in the family room. Lucy was now more proficient than the rest of us combined at operating William’s mind-boggling array of TV remotes, so she scurried off to take advantage of some bonus screen time.
“Put on your pj’s and brush your teeth first, Jellybean,” I hollered to her. “Everything’s in your backpack in the mudroom.” The rest of us were happy to linger a bit longer in the warm summer night before breaking the spell to tackle the dishes.
“Thea, we need to talk to you about something.” Rebecca glanced at me, then up at the darkening sky, before turning back with her lips pressed together.
Fear snaked down my spine. Please do not let one of them be sick. This family couldn’t bear another major loss so soon. Or ever. “Is everything OK?” I croaked.
William pushed the fat and gristle he’d trimmed from his steak around on his plate.
“Rebecca?” I prodded while I tried to recall: Had I accidentally written something in my book about a parent or grandparent getting cancer?
“We’ve come to the unfortunate conclusion that we have some very real concerns about your mental health,” she said.
“Excuse me?” I squinted at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said.
“But that’s absurd,” I said. “This is the happiest I’ve been since Sam died.”
“That’s what worries us, honey. We’re concerned you’re experiencing some sort of minor break from reality,” she said. “How else can we explain some of the alarming reasoning you’ve been exhibiting recently?”
“Alarming reasoning?” My mouth gaped. “What are you talking about?”
Rebecca sighed. “Well, first you admitted publicly that you believe you have the power to manifest reality through your writing and told the world about your encounter with the so-called astronaut. Then you moved out, removing Lucy from the only home she’s ever known, presumably so you could spend more time with this mythical boyfriend, who it seems no one but you has ever laid eyes on.
Not even Frannie. Are we wrong about that? ”
I recalled my very recent promise of no more secrets, and wondered briefly if an outright lie qualified as a secret.
But of course it did, at least in spirit.
I shook my head. “No, but that’s only because the stars haven’t align—” I choked on my words.
Way to make a bad situation worse. “Sorry, poor choice of metaphor. What I mean is, the only reason they haven’t met is because he’s busy and Frannie’s busy and the timing hasn’t worked out. Yet.”
“I need to be honest, and I hope you know this comes from a place of love.” Rebecca dabbed her eye with a napkin.
“But we’re petrified for you and Lucy. Thea, how can you not see that you’re being exploited—or worse—by this supposed astronaut who somehow has you convinced that he miraculously jumped off the pages of your novel? ”
“He’s not mythical or so-called or supposed!” I raised my phone in the air as I stood up. “He has a real phone number with a 310 area code. He lives in Venice, he texts, he drives—but he doesn’t text and drive—he drinks coffee. He’s real. Why won’t you believe me?”