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When You Read This

Page 28

by Mary Adkins


  * * *

  Hi Boss,

  Great news—Jade emailed me that she’s fine with the excerpt! Do you know what I’m talking about or have I not filled you in?

  Belle is going to publish a portion of Iris’s blog. Which is good because Hadley was not a fan of my listicle, so this really does feel like our last shot, no pun intended.

  Jade also sent some flowers for you. They are yellow with orange centers. I have not read the card. They are very pretty. I am attaching a photo.

  Also Rosita has decided to rehire us—a plot twist that I will openly admit I find bittersweet.

  Also my parents are interested in investing in Jade’s bakery given that she is a former Barn chef. Do you want me to tell her the good news or do you want to?

  Carl

  MESSAGES—DRAFTS

  Sat., Nov. 21, 12:55 PM

  Smith: Hi Jade. Thank you for the flowers. I think maybe you misunderstood—

  * * *

  from:

  jademassey@yahoo.com

  to:

  ENTER RECIPIENT’S ADDRESS

  date:

  Sat, Nov 21 at 2:03 PM

  subject:

  DRAFT no subject

  * * *

  Smith,

  I wish I never read the

  http://dyingtoblog.com/irismassey

  April 24, 1:11 AM

  In the end it’s not only everything we remember but what we don’t, too. The moments that passed unobserved, not celebrated or noted, just lived. We scold ourselves: I failed to appreciate so much as it was happening! I wasn’t paying attention!

  But to be bothered by that is only time playing tricks on a mind that thinks itself smaller than it is.

  Don’t try to appreciate it. You can’t do it by trying. Don’t try to do anything.

  If anything, try not to try.

  The thing is, there isn’t one meaning that you remember or don’t. It was what it was and is what it is, both simultaneously, along with every version it evolved into along the way, and will, the million iterations all stacked on top of each other like cans.

  And what about the moments we forget? They are there, too, needles in our haystack-selves, a part of us even though we may never find them again and wouldn’t know where to look. They prick us every now and then so we know they’re there.

  COMMENTS (1):

  HarryBeastMan: I liked this blog more when it was less preachy. ☹

  Sunday, November 22

  * * *

  from:

  carl@simonyi.com

  to:

  smith@simonyi.com

  cc:

  YOPLAY

  date:

  Sun, Nov 22 at 11:34 AM

  subject:

  An Intervention

  * * *

  Dear Boss,

  This is an intervention from me and Phil.

  You have been home for one week and have been responsive to nothing and have eaten Christ knows how much pizza. While this is perfectly acceptable for a limited period, we agree that one full week is enough for this particular phase of grieving. It is now time for you to enter a new phase. You can still sulk and mope and so forth, but we feel this new phase should involve coming to work at least because I am completely worn out from doing both of our jobs. Remember that I am ONLY A COLLEGE STUDENT!

  Also we are going to Sonoma later this week for Thanksgiving to spend it with my family.

  Please advise.

  Carl

  * * *

  from:

  smith@simonyi.com

  to:

  carl@simonyi.com

  cc:

  YOPLAY

  date:

  Sun, Nov 22 at 3:24 PM

  subject:

  re: An Intervention

  * * *

  Wait. You’re both going to California to see your family?

  * * *

  from:

  YOPLAY

  to:

  smith@simonyi.com

  cc:

  carl@simonyi.com

  date:

  Sun, Nov 22 at 4:04 PM

  subject:

  re: An Intervention

  * * *

  HE’S ALIVE!

  YES

  WE ARE BOTH GOING TO CALI

  I AM GOING TO MEET CARL’S PARENTS WHO

  HE DESCRIBES AS PINK

  * * *

  from:

  smith@simonyi.com

  to:

  carl@simonyi.com

  cc:

  YOPLAY

  date:

  Sun, Nov 22 at 5:06 PM

  subject:

  re: An Intervention

  * * *

  I’ll be back to work tomorrow. Thanks for carrying the load, Carl. I’m really grateful. I’ll write you the best “LOR” anyone’s ever seen. And thanks, Phil, for forgiving (but not rehiring) me.

  * * *

  from:

  carl@simonyi.com

  to:

  smith@simonyi.com

  cc:

  YOPLAY

  date:

  Sun, Nov 22 at 5:12 PM

  subject:

  re: An Intervention

  * * *

  (*^_^*)

  PS—Since I know you will ask, that’s bashful face.

  * * *

  from:

  carl@simonyi.com

  to:

  smith@simonyi.com

  date:

  Sun, Nov 22 at 5:40 PM

  subject:

  re: An Intervention

  * * *

  Hi Boss,

  Taking Phil off for this thread because it doesn’t seem professional to loop him in on this.

  Soooooo this morning I accidentally spilled coffee on the card from Jade that came with the flowers she sent, which is super weird because I never spill. The last time I spilled was the first week of my internship (I was so young!), when I was at lunch and drenched the Post-it from Iris in Arnold Palmer. Remember that?

  I didn’t want it to become saturated to the point of incoherence, so I did open the card. It reads:

  I’m sorry. You were right.

  What do you think she means? Right about what?

  So cryptic!

  I am also attaching to this email a screenshot of Iris’s last draft for your information and well-being.

  Carl

  Attachment (1)

  http://dyingtoblog.com/irismassey

  UNPUBLISHED DRAFT

  Last opened November 22, at 5:22 PM

  Tonight I am going to the office to print this blog and leave it for Smith to publish. Guessing he’ll have to get in touch with my sister at some point. And then, who knows?

  http://dyingtoblog.com/irismassey

  April 29, 3:42 PM

  I was here

  * * *

  And I remember some of it

  But most of it I don’t

  * * *

  Between what I do

  And what I don’t

  * * *

  * * *

  * * *

  And loved.

  COMMENTS (2):

  DyingToBlogTeam: Happy National Pretzel Day!

  BonnieD: :) this made me cry a little bit

  Monday, November 23

  MESSAGES

  Mon., Nov. 23, 9:42 AM

  SMITH: Thank you for the flowers.

  JADE: How are you?

  SMITH: Saddest I’ve ever been.

  JADE: I hope that doesn’t mean you’ve gambled away everything you own.

  SMITH: No. I’m just getting fat on pizza.

  JADE: Sounds reasonable.

  SMITH: How are you?

  JADE: I’m okay.

  SMITH: Is it true—you’re fine with Hadley publishing an excerpt of Iris’s blog?

  JADE: I said I’m okay with Belle publishing it. I still have mixed feelings about an adult named Hadley.

 
SMITH: Yes, I recall.

  SMITH: Why the change of heart?

  JADE: I read it. The whole thing. I finished it.

  JADE: I gave the link to my mom to read, too.

  SMITH: Wow.

  JADE: I’m not saying you were right to go behind my back.

  SMITH: I know. I owe you an actual apology.

  JADE: But I’m not opposed to the idea of people reading it now. And you’re right—I’m glad I read to the end.

  SMITH: I’m sorry I went behind your back.

  JADE: It’s okay.

  SMITH: What else is going on?

  JADE: I got the space. The one in Brooklyn.

  SMITH: Congratulations.

  JADE: Thanks.

  SMITH: Did Carl tell you his parents want to invest?

  JADE: Yeah. Ha.

  SMITH: Does that mean you aren’t interested?

  JADE: My plans have changed.

  SMITH: Oh?

  JADE: I don’t know. I might open a restaurant or something.

  SMITH: I imagine his parents would be into that as well.

  JADE: You really aren’t gambling, or was that a lie?

  SMITH: I found this video online called The Easy Way to Stop Gambling. The whole time it didn’t need to be a struggle, I was just making it a struggle. It seems to have worked. Go figure.

  JADE: Is this a joke?

  SMITH: Nope.

  JADE: The Easy Way? Don’t recruit me for your cult please.

  SMITH: Or maybe you were right earlier in the fall when you said I do it to make things worse before they can get worse on their own. Things got as bad as they could get. There’s no “worse” now.

  JADE: I said that?

  SMITH: Yes.

  JADE: Were you able to see your mom before she died?

  SMITH: No.

  JADE: She knew you were coming.

  SMITH: So what kind of food are you going to serve in your restaurant?

  JADE: Good question.

  SMITH: We should probably get to work. Dinner at 6?

  JADE: I’m supposed to see Henry tonight for dinner.

  SMITH: I see.

  JADE: I could cancel.

  SMITH: Cancel.

  JADE: Okay.

  SMITH: Go ahead and cancel all of Henry’s upcoming appointments.

  JADE: Okay.

  SMITH: Dude got his shot. It’s over.

  * * *

  from:

  smith@simonyi.com

  to:

  rosylady101@yahoo.com

  date:

  Mon, Nov 23 at 12:44 PM

  subject:

  re: Dancing with the Stars

  * * *

  Dear Rosita,

  You certainly make a case for joining the cast of DWTS—quite impressive, that video of your latest merengue competition. Such footwork!

  Unfortunately, I don’t think our continuing to work together is meant to be. Best of luck to you, in mouth artistry, merengue, and beyond.

  Sincerely,

  Smith S. Simonyi

  President

  BRANDISH

  http://dyingtoblog.com/irismassey

  April 30, 12:02 AM

  My sister has been staying with me. A few days ago she was going to spend a night back in Jersey so she could swap out her clothes and water her plants. She asked what needed to be done before she left. I said go dancing but I was kidding. Then I took a nap.

  I woke up to her putting makeup on me: rubbing eye shadow on my lids, stroking mascara onto the tops of my lashes, dabbing lipstick onto my chapped lips. Of course, I didn’t have any hair to do, and the wigs had started itching, so she tied on a scarf. I’m not sure which one. She put me in black pants and a gauzy, fitted blouse I wore when I was younger and hotter. I had saved it thinking that maybe, one day, I’d become thin enough to wear it again. In fact, I had.

  She hailed us a cab and still wouldn’t tell me where we were going.

  “It’s a surprise,” she kept saying. We had to stop twice so I could throw up. The driver seemed annoyed the first time, but when I got back in, I could tell Jade had told him what was going on, because in the rearview mirror he stared at me with pity. The third time I threw up into a grocery bag he passed back. Finally, the car stopped in front of Rinse, the club where Jade and I went sometimes in our twenties when we wanted to get wasted and dance.

  There was a bearded, husky man in all black standing outside, waiting. He shook Jade’s hand and introduced himself to us as Pete, the guy she’d spoken with on the phone. Pete let us into the empty dance hall. The strobe light was already on, and Beyoncé’s “Best Thing I Never Had” was playing. The dance floor looked enormous without anyone on it, and stepping onto it was strange, like going out into a snowy field that no one has walked on yet.

  We danced by ourselves. I forgot I was sick. I forgot it was ending. I just danced with my sister, and it was the best. The very best. I can’t even think of the words for how good it was.

  Thank you, Jade. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  COMMENTS (122):

  BonnieD: RIP Iris

  XYZLots: just found this blog! sad too late. rip

  BigJessBarbs: This was my favorite blog!

  TigerSashRox: are we sure she’s rip?

  BonnieD: I think so? Iris u there?

  Click to see 116 more . . .

  WinsomeDorothy: Dear Everyone on this Blog, Yes, Iris is RIP. Thank you for your support of her, on behalf of Dorothy Massey, her mother. We miss you down here, girlie. Love, Mom.

  Epilogue

  * * *

  from:

  carlvansnyder@gmail.com

  to:

  jademassey@yahoo.com

  date:

  Fri, May 13 at 12:34 PM

  subject:

  OUR WEDDING CAKE

  * * *

  Dear Jade,

  I hope you are doing well! I hear from Smith that restaurant plans are going well. Please keep me posted on the date of the launch, as I would love to come if I am available. I will be moving back to New York at the end of the month, after graduation.

  Smith has warned me that you might say no given that you hate sweets, but I have an enormous favor to ask that would mean so much to Phil and me. Would you be willing to make our wedding cake? You have until October!

  I know there are probably people we could find who would make better cakes, but since Smith is officiating the wedding, it feels very much like a family affair.

  Reasons I think you should do it:

  You will be anxious waiting for Iris’s book proofs in November, and this will be a welcome distraction.

  It will mean a lot to Phil and me.

  It’s good for the mind to try out new things. Our brains crave plasticity, longing to be exercised in fresh capacities in order to prolong mental acuity. In a way, we’re doing YOU a favor!

  Today is Friday the 13th. I don’t know if you’re one of the 21 million people who suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia—fear of this day in the Gregorian calendar—but if so, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to summon good energies your way by doing friends a favor. (They say that once you can pronounce paraskevidekatriaphobia, you’re cured, though I can’t test this claim myself, as I find the fear to be irrational and thus unrelatable.)

  In exchange, I offer my services as an Elite Yelp reviewer four years and counting. Have you seen the Yelp page for BRANDISH recently? It’s a masterpiece. When your restaurant launches, I will promptly post a rave review and recruit the like from my Yelp compatriots (we do that for each other).

  What do you think?

  Carl

  * * *

  from:

  HelloCupid

  to:

  jademassey@yahoo.com

  date:

  Fri, May 13 at 4:27 PM

  subject:

  MANOFLAMANCHA is looking at your profile!

  * * *

  JadeJadeJava,

  We can’t believe it either! It’s been over a year since you
logged in—and people are checking out your profile! Here’s a sneak peek at the latest message you’ve received:

  From NOTABRIT:

  Hi! I am a freelancer living in Crown Heights, just arrived from Chicago where I dwelled for 15 years. Before that, I grew up in Evanston, Illinois. But I won’t blame you for thinking me an Englishman, as I suffer from FAS (Foreign Accent Syndrome), which has caused me to speak with a British accent since falling victim to a ferocious migraine in the spring of 2010. Don’t worry, I’ve been assured it’s of the posh variety.

  Or maybe it even makes me MORE sexy to you???

  How about you, Java, where are you from?

 

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