‘What?’ Faith asked softly. ‘You… what?’
‘I feel… I feel…’ May stumbled, almost too scared to put it into words. ‘Sometimes I feel a completely overwhelming desire in my heart to do it. But then I think I’m just being mad, naïve, stupid…’
‘Being a little hard on yourself at all?’ Faith asked, a light tone in her voice.
May giggled. ‘I suppose so. But I just… I really, really don’t want to mess up. Not that. I mean, I figure if I mess up my own life, in the end the only person I really hurt is me, but with a kid –’
‘And Ben,’ Faith said, ‘and of course everyone else who loves you.’
‘Well yes, true,’ May admitted. ‘But, I mean, even if Ben and I split up he’d be okay, he’d move on and all that. But with a kid… you mess that up and they don’t get over it; it wounds them forever.’
‘Says who?’ Faith asked.
‘Well, everyone knows that,’ May said. ‘I mean, if your parents mess up, then they mess you up forever. They bequeath you loads of… “baggage”; you carry it for the rest of your life, and you have to spend loads of time learning how to let it go. And I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be responsible for permanently messing up somebody else’s life.’
Thinking she’d made the definitive point, May looked out of the window again and wondered if the fog would clear, squinting through it, trying to see the bridge.
‘You know,’ Faith said, ‘I don’t think this is about fear. I think it’s about forgiveness.’
May was silent for a moment. ‘What?’
‘I don’t think this is just about you being scared of being a bad parent,’ Faith said. ‘It’s about you still blaming your parents for all the issues you’ve ever had: low self-esteem, lack of courage, all that stuff…’
‘No,’ May said firmly. ‘No, that’s not true, I don’t, I don’t –’
Faith stopped her. ‘Hey, remember what you told me about living in denial? Well, perhaps if you don’t say “no” so quickly, and give yourself a moment, you might realise I have a point. Perhaps, possibly, maybe…’
‘Sorry,’ May said softly. ‘Yes, I suppose you might, just possibly, have a point.’
‘Good!’ Faith clapped. ‘I thought so.’
‘How did you know?’
‘Deduction. Supreme intelligence. Intuition. Your cousin is not to be trifled with, you know.’
‘Yes, I’m starting to see that.’ May smiled.
‘The thing is,’ Faith explained, ‘if you blame your parents, especially your father, for giving you “issues” that messed you up, then you’ll blame yourself for whatever happens to your kids, whether or not it has anything to do with you.’
May squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip.
‘But you have to remember,’ Faith went on, ‘your life is your life, and it’s up to you to make the most of it, right now. It doesn’t matter what happened in the past. You’ll never get anywhere by looking back and blaming. Your parents did the best they could, just like you always do, and of course they made mistakes; they messed up, just like we all do. But if you blame them, or indeed you, for everything that’s gone “wrong”, then no matter how good life finally gets you’ll never let yourself enjoy it. You’ll have to suffer, just to justify the blame.’
May was silent, letting it all sink in. She opened her eyes again and looked out at the fog, relieved that Faith was at the other end of a phone in England and not able to see her face. Because, while May still didn’t want to admit it, she knew her cousin was right.
‘Yes,’ May said at last. ‘Okay, so you have a point. My whole fairy-tale fantasy about perfect parenthood, the ideal I couldn’t live up to, has come from blaming my own parents, my father, for not doing it right, for everything that went wrong.’
‘Ah, but that’s another thing I have a theory about,’ Faith said, ‘and it works extremely well, whether or not it’s really true.’
May raised an eyebrow, wondering what wacky theory her kooky cousin had concocted to see her through life’s traumas. Although May had to admit, given how happy Faith always seemed to be, whatever it was, it certainly worked.
‘I have this theory, about the wisdom of the heart, or the soul, I’m not really sure which,’ Faith said, ‘but the point is that it’s our highest wisdom, and it brings all events into our lives for us to learn everything we need to learn in order to be truly happy, like letting go, loving ourselves, surrendering, peace, compassion, empathy… any number of things. Anyway, it means to me that painful events, although momentarily heartbreaking, aren’t ultimately awful. At least they don’t have to be. Because, if we really want to, we can use them to make us more compassionate, kind, thoughtful, understanding… So, while they begin as heartbreaks, they can end as gifts.’
May sighed. ‘Well, I like the theory, but I can’t see how something like my dad leaving me could be a gift. Of course my life would have been better if it hadn’t happened. And the same can be said of anything awful’ – May paused to think of some awful things – ‘like death, divorce, any kind of devastation. I don’t think…’
‘Yes, of course,’ Faith said, ‘if you choose to see it and live with it like that, then you’re right. But the point is it’s really up to you. You can turn it into a gift; you can let the event either open your heart more or shut it down. Which, of course, you’d be perfectly within your rights to do, but it would mean you’d never be happy again.’
‘It’s not that easy though,’ May objected. ‘If you’re angry and hurt, you can’t just decide not to be.’
‘Oh, but you can,’ Faith replied. ‘That’s the first step. You can decide to begin to forgive your father, and you can begin to forgive yourself. You can decide to stop fighting reality, to let go of fairy tales and to start to surrender to the fact that we’re all flawed and we’re all in need of forgiveness. You can accept that life is both totally messed up and yet extraordinarily beautiful. Or you can keep on insisting that it should be different, more peaceful and less painful. But I’m afraid it is what it is, and it’s up to you to make the best of it.’
May smiled. ‘I feel like a little kid, who’s just been given a good talking to by her teacher.’
‘Well,’ Faith said, giggling, ‘that’s because it’s time to realise that sometimes life is sweet, and sometimes it isn’t, but refusing to forgive your dad will only make it sourer and mean that you won’t give yourself the gift of having a child, even if you really want one.’
May couldn’t help but smile at Faith’s persuasive logic. ‘Yes, nice segue, oh crazy but brilliant cousin of mine.’
‘Right. Good, then stop worrying that everything will go wrong, ’cause even if it does, it doesn’t really,’ Faith said. ‘Have a baby, write a book, do whatever you want.’
May wished her cousin was there so she could give her a huge hug. ‘You are amazing,’ she said instead.
‘Oh, I know,’ Faith said lightly, ‘I know.’
For the rest of the day May sat at her desk, tapping her fingers on the wood, chewing the end of her pen, occasionally scribbling things down and then crossing them out. Five hours later the fog had cleared, the sun was starting to set behind the Golden Gate Bridge and May had a full, unblemished paragraph.
‘A little messy and a little perfect,’ she said, after reading it through for the tenth time. ‘A great place to start.’
Doughnut jumped onto the desk and sat down on the page, his furry bum covering every word. May laughed and lifted him off.
‘I suppose having a child would be a bit like having a hundred cats, in which case I’d better postpone it for a while, or finish this book before she or he is born.’
She held Doughnut in her arms and walked slowly down the spiral staircase, recalling what Faith had said. It occurred to her that her cousin’s wisdom could help create an interesting book, and she began thinking about how she could structure it. As she did so, May crossed the flat and descended the main staircase to s
ee Ben, since she now had something rather important to say.
‘Are you sure?’ Ben asked for the twentieth time as they lay in bed together. He had one hand on her belly and was gazing at her intently, his big brown eyes wide with hope. ‘Are you really sure?’
‘No,’ May said with a small smile, ‘and since I can never know how this’ll all turn out I don’t think I ever will be. But I do know that I love you, that I feel the desire to do this deep in my heart, and that I’m ready for another…’
‘Crazy adventure?’
‘Yes,’ May replied, grinning. ‘exactly.’
It didn’t happen that month, or the next, or the sixth month after that. They kept trying, and May kept writing, and by the spring she had a new book. She showed it to Ben first, who loved it and kept promising he wasn’t biased. And May believed him, since they had so far kept their agreement of compassionate honesty, no matter what. And now she wanted to show it to someone else – to Lily.
May had seen Lily every week since her return. They had dinner, with Megan and Ben, and saw each other at book readings and the like. May’s agent still arranged various public-speaking engagements and other publicity events, and May went along with them as long as they were in good taste. She reinstated her own evenings of fun and inspiration, twice a week, talking to readers about their own men, money and chocolate challenges, and she tried her best to help. And, wherever she went, Ben was always in the front row.
This time May invited Lily for coffee and cake at The Tea Cup. May was early and stood chatting with Alice while she waited. A few months earlier she and Alice had founded the Insight & Inspiration Book Club and they spent many happy hours together trying out cake recipes and new books for the meetings.
‘Hi.’ Lily tapped May on the shoulder.
‘Hey,’ May said, turning round to hug her.
They bought cappuccinos and slices of caramel cake, and sat in the window, though this time Lily took the lucky chair.
‘Apparently that chair has witnessed many marriage proposals,’ May said, taking a sip of coffee and a big bite of cake.
‘Oh yeah.’ Lily smiled. ‘That’s lovely, but I bet none of them were as utterly fabulous as mine.’
‘Really?’ May asked, intrigued.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ Lily said. ‘I asked Megan to marry me in our garden, at twilight, with a thousand fairy lights hanging through the trees. Of course, until they change the law, we can’t actually get married. But since we’ve been unmarried for the last twenty-two years, I don’t suppose a few more will make much difference.’
‘You asked her?’
‘Yes, why? D’you want tips?’ Lily asked. ‘Is that why we’re here?’
‘No,’ May said, blushing. ‘I wrote a new book, I’d love you to read it.’
Lily’s eyes lit up. ‘Now that is fabulous. I’d love to.’
May reached down and took the manuscript out of her bag and slid it across the table. Lily picked up the pages and read the title.
‘Happier Than She’s Ever Been…’ Lily smiled. ‘I don’t suppose this would be another work of fiction based rather closely on fact, would it?’
‘Well, yes,’ May admitted. ‘Yes, it might just be.’
‘Wonderful.’ Lily slipped it into her bag. ‘Well then, I look forward to learning even more about you.’
‘Me, and my cousin, and Ben, and you…’
‘Me?’ Lily looked surprised.
‘Yep, I’ve added some of your wisdom in there,’ May explained. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I can always change it, if you do.’
‘Mind? Why should I mind? I’m flattered. Now I’ll look forward to reading it even more.’ Lily smiled and, just for a moment, May felt as though her mum was there, sitting at the table and smiling.
‘What’s the surprise?’ Ben asked, as May led him through the gates of the Japanese Tea Garden.
‘It wouldn’t be one if I told you now, would it?’ May said, taking him over the bridge and towards the bench where they had first sat together, three years earlier.
‘Is it a good one?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
They reached the bench. Ben sat down, looking up expectantly. ‘Well?’
‘Patience isn’t one of your virtues, is it?’ May smiled.
‘Nope. So what is it?’
‘Well’ – May started to kneel on the pebbled path – ‘it’s not something to tell you; it’s something to ask you.’
Ben started to smile.
‘So here goes.’ May became serious. ‘Ben, will you –’
‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’
‘Hey, I haven’t even asked you yet!’
‘Sorry, bichana, I couldn’t wait. The suspense was killing me.’
‘Oh, come on…’
‘Okay, that’s a lie,’ Ben admitted. ‘But I didn’t want you to ask, I mean, of course I did, but I wanted to ask you.’
‘Oh.’ May smiled. ‘I see.’
Ben shifted from the bench to the path and knelt in front of May, who was still kneeling herself. May giggled as a few passersby slowed to watch them. Ben put a finger to her lips.
‘May, will you –’
‘Yes,’ she said. And they both laughed.
They walked all the way home, hand in hand, underneath a fogless sky spotted with stars. Then they had dinner, went to bed and made love. And that was the night it happened.
Three nights later May woke up sweating, her heart racing. This time she didn’t try to calm herself down, or suppress her feelings and keep all her fears secret. Instead she woke Ben, who squinted up at her with a sleepy smile.
‘I just had another dream,’ May said. ‘A portentous one.’
‘Is that a word?’ Ben mumbled.
‘Yes, it’s a word, of course it’s a word. Well, at least I think it is,’ May said. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point.’
‘What is the point then, bichana?’ Ben groaned. ‘Is it specifically a three thirty a.m. point or one that could be made at nine a.m.?’
‘I just met our son.’ May couldn’t help but smile. ‘Well, his spirit at least.’
‘Really?’ Ben asked, his eyes shining. ‘Really?’
May nodded. ‘Yep, I think so, if my latent, and completely untested, psychic powers are anything to go by. And he told me something.’
‘Oh?’
‘He told me that this next adventure is going to be a brilliant and very bumpy ride.’
‘Oh boy.’ Ben laughed, pulling May into a hug. He held her tightly for a while, tucking his head into her shoulder, then wiped his eyes and looked into hers. ‘Are you nervous?’
‘Oh, no.’ May smiled at him. ‘Only vaguely terrified. But I have a little feeling that as long as my heart keeps beating, and I keep breathing, then it’ll be all right. No matter how much I mess up, he’ll be okay, and we’ll be okay and, whatever goes wrong,’ she said, thinking back to her conversation with Faith, ‘death, divorce or devastation, if we keep looking for the good stuff in it all, then it’ll work out. And, either way, life won’t stop being –’
‘Messy and beautiful and –’
‘Perfect –’
‘Exactly as it is –’ Ben said.
‘Right.’ May smiled.
And then they kissed.
ALSO AVAILABLE BY MENNA VAN PRAAG
Men, Money and Chocolate
www.menmoneyandchocolate.com
If you’ve enjoyed May’s experience of enlightenment, and want to have a magical lifetoo, then we invite you to seek inspiration from the real-life Rose: Vicky van Praag
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She’ll give you all the insight and inspiration you need to make all your daydreams come true: a loving relationship, work that fills your heart, and a body that makes you smile!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
© Mark Ashwor
th
Menna van Praag is the author of the bestselling Men, Money & Chocolate, the autobiographical tale of a woman who longs to be a writer but lacks the courage and self-belief to succeed. As a little girl, long before self-doubt settled in, Menna wrote stories and read them aloud to anyone who would listen. As a teenager, her English Literature teacher suggested her writing was ‘publishable’, thus planting a secret seed of hope in her heart. But, being full of self-doubt, Menna decided to focus on a sensible and safe future and went to Oxford University to take a degree in Modern History. There she read many books (texts during the day, novels at night) and tried to forget about writing her own.
She graduated into an office job but, sensible as it was, it also made her feel slightly suicidal and Menna realised it was writing or nothing. So, for the next eight years she worked as a waitress and wrote numerous unpublished novels. About to turn 30, with enough rejections to wallpaper her flat, she thought it might be time to give up hope. Luckily, a month before the birthday, Menna attended an enlightening workshop in New York, with Ariel & Shya Kane. Now determined never to give up, Menna remembered a life-changing conversation (one of many) with her mum, Vicky van Praag, and sat down to write a different book: about hope, courage, self-belief and truth.
Menna lives in Cambridge with her husband, Artur. Happier Than She’s Ever Been… is her second (published) book. She is currently working on her third, The House at the End of Hope Street.
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Happier Than She's Ever Been... Page 10
