“I agree. I asked Julie if she would officiate for us.”
“That’s great.”
“That brings me to my next question,” Nancy paused. “There is absolutely no obligation, so feel free to say no, but I was hoping maybe you could saysomething?”
“At the ceremony?”
“Well, at the reception. The ceremony will be pretty quick I would imagine. A lot of people strolling by, etc. so I thought maybe the speeches could be done at the receptionafterwards.”
“Okay, obviously I would be delighted to, but what would you likeme to say?”
“I’ll leave that to you. You’re amazing, I know you’ll come up withsomething.”
“No pressure, then.” Ashley laughed. “Who else is speaking? I want to know my competition.”
“Probably just my son, Michael. He spoke at the wedding, so I think he’d like to and Christopherof course.”
“And then me?” The request took herby surprise.
“Why do you soundso shocked?”
“I don’t know. It’s a big deal, isn’t it? It’s such an intimate setting with all the people that know you the best and I just feel…” Ashley searched for the right words, “…probably a littleinadequate.”
Nancy sighed. “How long have I known you now?”
“Three years I think.”
“How often have I seen you in those three years?”
“A lot.”
“Exactly. Probably more than my children, my grandchildren and my friends. People come into our lives for a reason. You came into mine unexpectedly and brought me so much joy from the words you wrote. After that, you continued to bring me joy, day in day out, sitting in the bar, writing away. To this day you always call, you help out at the bar when we’re struggling and you never ever forget a special date. You, my dear, have become family and that makes you anything butinadequate.”
Ashley’s eyes glazed over. She dabbed underneath her eyes to stop the tears from falling. The kindness displayed by Nancy since the first day they’d met stillamazed her.
“I’m so glad I met you. Thank you for allowing me to speak at your ceremony. I am honestly so honoured.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
***
Three days passed before Ashley received a reply from Megan. A simple message that read:
Thank you for watching the game. Your support means more than you know. Congratulations on the engagement by the way! The photo was beautiful and that ring, WOW! Madison is a lucky girl. I’m glad you’re happy, youdeserve it.
That clarified what Ashley assumed. Megan had seen the photo. She’d known about the engagement prior to the message of congratulations and chose not to reply. That hurt Ashley, but deep down raised a lot of questions about the complexity of their relationship. While Megan remained on a different continent, their ability to be friends diminished with everypassing day.
There was a reason the two met, on that day, in that bar. She firmly believed that. There was a reason Megan introduced Ashley to Nancy, making their lives foreverintertwined.
Ashley continued tapping away at the keys on her laptop. The evening had disappeared into night. It was midnight and she was no closer to sleep. The room was dark, she’d switched off all the lights and the TV to sit and think in silence. The distractions she couldn’t bear, not when writing. Madison had retired to bed after a long day at work, but Ashley couldn’t shake the story within; her imagination going wild as it often did.
She’d been atThe New York Timesfor almost a year. In that time, she’d learned more than she ever thought possible. The fundamentals around news judgment, style, tone of voice and perspective were all key things she could see improving in her articles. She had worked on countless daily news articles, as well as learning graphics and the depth and detail that is needed for special projects. The newsroom was always bustling with reporters, journalists, editors and producers all scrambling to get the next big story. The team of people behind the Anchor or behind the Newspaper was immense and Ashley loved being apart of it.
There was a certain hierarchy to the newsroom and she was firmly at the bottom of the food chain, but that only made her strive to be better. The one thing she had in her favour prior to getting the job was her already established freelance writing. There was rarely time to write her own articles in her current role, but she still tried to write at least one a month, whenever the inspiration hit. Each article she would drop onto Bryan’s or Sonia’s desk and wait for the green light. It didn’t always come. Some of her work wasn’t quite what they wanted at that moment, but they often took the time to recommend anotherpublication.
The moments of inspiration came almost always at night. The moonlight shone through the window like the softest of flashlights, leaving a window frame silhouette on the livingroom floor.
The words came naturally.
