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“No! I mean we talked, at the meeting the other day and then you said…”
She clasps her hand over her mouth. “Did I do the wrong thing?”
I take a breath. “I said I’d think about it. When we were leaving the meeting. Remember?”
“I’m sorry,” she whines. “Bruno said I could, and I thought you said it was okay.”
I sigh. “Never mind. It’s too late now anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. We’re great.”
“Okay! Great. So? Do you like it?”
I gaze at it again. “It’s great.”
“You’re sure? Because I wouldn’t want—”
“Nope, it’s great. Perfect. Thank you.”
“Okay!” She says with renewed energy. “Phew! Thanks, Laura. Let’s get to work.”
I’m dying inside, and I don’t think it’s just the hangover. I don’t mind the photograph at all—although at three feet by three feet it’s making a statement—but the poem grates me. It cheapens the other stories we chose. But maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe it’s not so bad.
I read it again.
I found my love on a Friday afternoon
I found myself in your arms
Finally, I found you, you said.
That night I found my true north in the moon
I’ll never let you go, you said.
You gave me your heart
Keep it forever, you whispered, and I will keep your heart
For we must never be apart
What did I say? What did I do?
Why did you leave and take my heart with you?
I lost my love on Thursday afternoon.
But I found you again, my love.
And I will never let you go.
Admittedly, maybe it’s the mood I’m in, but there’s something vaguely sinister about it. But then, what do I know? They’re engaged, they’re happy, they’re getting married. I should worry about my own situation, I guess. Maybe I could learn something.
SIXTEEN
It’s Friday, the opening of the Museum of Lost and Found, and suddenly my big idea, the one I’ve been working on for a year seems small and clumsy and childish. I feel like I’m about to be found out. I’m a fake, a try-hard, I was just pretending to be somebody who had ideas. I went home in the middle of the afternoon to get changed, and I think a part of me—the big loser part about to be exposed—wanted to surprise them, even maybe walk in on them screwing in our bed—herbed,theirbed. When I found the house empty, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. I changed into my silver wrap dress that I wear with a wide leather belt cinched at the waist and black boots, and I did my hair and makeup with great care, and in the end I thought I looked okay.
