She stole glances at the other girls’ dresses, comparing them to her own. They all looked so lovely, moving about the room like butterflies riding warm summer breezes. She, however, was a moth, drab and inconspicuous as she sat in the corner, wearing a hole in the velvet of the sofa as revenge for her invisibility.
“What do you think?”
Jane looked at the book she was holding in her hands. Her book. She’d just opened the overnight package from Kelly, which had arrived only minutes before. Now she was on the phone, thanking him for sending it.
“It’s beautiful,” said Jane, running her fingers over the glossy cover. The title and her name were in raised lettering. Her fingers traced the letters. “I can’t believe it’s mine.”
“You should be getting a box of fifty copies later this week,” Kelly told her. “But I couldn’t wait for you to see it.”
Jane opened the cover and looked at the title page. She turned the pages slowly, watching the words go by. The smell of the ink and paper floated up like the scent of a rare flower. She closed her eyes and inhaled it.
“Thank you for sending it,” she said.
“It’s my pleasure,” said Kelly. “I also have some news for you.”
“I don’t think it can get any better,” Jane told him. “What is it?”
“Nick sent a copy of the book to Comfort and Joy.”
“Is that a bookstore?” Jane asked.
“Comfort and Joy,” said Kelly. “You don’t know who they are?”
Jane thought for a moment. “The television people?” she said.
“That would be them,” Kelly confirmed.
Jane inhaled sharply. Comfort and Joy were the queens of daytime television. Joy, a perky blonde with conservative views and insufferably cute triplets of whom she spoke incessantly, was the polar opposite of Comfort, a liberal African American woman from Louisiana who doled out homegrown advice in a no-nonsense manner. They had been the winners of one of the endless reality shows that had taken over television in recent years, and their resulting talk show had been meant to last only a season. But to everyone’s surprise, it had quickly become a hit, particularly with women, and it had now been running for five years. Several times a year they devoted an episode to a current book. They would interview the author and discuss the book with audience members. Almost invariably, the books they selected flew off the shelves. Lucy had made a prominent display of Comfort-and-Joy-recommended books, and browsers frequently came to the counter with at least one of the titles in hand.
“They want me?” said Jane.
“Nick is firming up the details,” Kelly said. “I should have let him tell you, but I couldn’t resist. He’s going to kill me for ruining his surprise.”
“I’m going to be on television?” said Jane.
“Not just television, Jane. Comfort and Joy. This is huge. Nick will call you later with the details.”
They talked for a few more minutes before Jane hung up. She sat at her desk in a daze, staring at the novel in front of her. This isn’t happening, she thought. There’s been a mistake. This is someone else’s book. Somehow my name got on the jacket.
“You got a copy!”
Lucy’s voice startled Jane out of her thoughts. Lucy snatched the book from the desk and looked at it. She flipped it over and scanned the blurbs on the back, then opened it to read the author bio. She reminded Jane of a new parent checking the baby to make sure all of its fingers and toes were accounted for.
“Can I put it out front?” Lucy asked.
Jane shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “It’s an advance copy. The main shipment will be here next week.”
Lucy squealed with excitement. “Your first book!” she said. “This is so cool.” Then she seemed to remember something. “Well, not your first book,” she amended. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
“I do,” said Jane. “And it might as well be. I haven’t published anything in more years than I care to think about. And back then it wasn’t quite as exciting. There were no such things as publicists, or interviews, or television talk shows.”
“Talk shows?” said Lucy. “Are you going to be on a talk show? What is it, some local thing? I hope it’s not that Book Talk with Bonnie segment Channel Five does on Sundays. That woman is moon-bat crazy. Do you know she once asked Amy Tan to explain the difference between lo mein and chow mein?”
“No,” Jane said, “it’s not Channel Five.” She told Lucy about Comfort and Joy. She covered her ears as Lucy shrieked in excitement.
“Wait until Walter—” Lucy began when she’d calmed down a little. “Sorry,” she added a moment later.
Jane waved a hand at her. “It’s all right,” she said. Since her talk with Walter things had cooled between them. Although they still spoke, they hadn’t had what Jane would consider a date, or even a dinner. She didn’t know if he’d given up on her or was still thinking about things, and she hadn’t pressed him for an answer. She of course felt guilty about this, but she told herself he was the one who needed time.
“I’m sure he’ll be excited even though you two aren’t…,” Lucy tried. She frowned. “I’ll shut up now,” she said, and handed the book back to Jane. “I’ll be out front,” she whispered. “Minding my own business.”
As soon as Lucy left, the phone rang again. Jane picked up and heard Nick Trilling’s voice.
“Bastard already told you,” he said.
“Told me what?” said Jane.
“Don’t try to cover for him. I heard him. I was just coming into his office to tell him you’re confirmed for the show. I had to take a few minutes to tear him a new one, otherwise I would have called you right away. I can’t let him get away with that shit. Pardon my French.”
Jane tried not to laugh. Nick’s blustery manner was one of his charms. “I confess,” she said.
“You’re going to be on next Wednesday,” Nick informed her.
“The book is out Tuesday, so this is perfect. If we can get even one percent of the five million women who watch that show to buy the book, we’ll sell out the first printing. Which reminds me, I’m going to get Kelly to double the run to a hundred thou.”
“A hundred thousand,” Jane said. “A hundred thousand copies?”
“Right,” Nick said. “Oh, and Comfort and Joy are giving each of the audience members a copy. That should be good for word of mouth. I don’t like to tempt fate, but I think you’re looking at the top of the list.”
“The list?” Jane asked, not understanding.
“The Times list,” said Nick. “As in bestsellers.”
“You’re joking,” Jane said.
“You got wood around there?” said Nick. “Knock on it. But from my lips to God’s ears.”
“A hundred thousand copies,” Jane said dazedly.
“One with five zeros,” said Nick. “Which reminds me, I have to go tell Kelly he’s got to up the print run. If he gives me any shit about it, I’ll remind him that my sister’s an editor over at Random House and that I’m not above giving her your number. Does your contract have an option clause?”
“I don’t know,” Jane answered. “I guess it does.”
“Too bad,” said Nick. “That would put the fear of Jesus into him. Anyway, I’ve got to run. My assistant will call you later with your flight and hotel information.”
He hung up before Jane could ask him any questions, such as what she should say on the show and what she should wear. I should probably watch an episode, she thought. She wondered if she should bring a gift.
The phone rang a third time, startling her. She was almost afraid to pick it up. “Hello?” she said.
“Jane, it’s Kelly again. Nick is in here twisting my arm about your print run. I hate to admit it, but I agree with him. We’re going up to a hundred thousand. Also, I wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Chicago with you. Oh, and one more piece of news.”
“Two,” Jane heard Nick shout.
“Two,” Kelly repeated. “I got a call from the organizer of the Romance Writers’ Guild conference. It starts next Friday and they want you to sign books. That’s in New Orleans. We’ll fly you there from Chicago.”
Jane’s head was swimming with all of the news she’d received in the past hour. Comfort and Joy. A hundred thousand. The New York Times bestseller list. The words floated through her head like clouds. Chicago. New Orleans. Sign books. It was overwhelming. I need to make a list, she thought. Then she remembered what Kelly had said earlier.
“What’s the second thing?” she asked. She was almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Entertainment Weekly,” Kelly replied. “They want to profile you in their book section. They’re doing a big what’s-hot-for-summer issue. You’re their main fiction selection. As it happens, one of their writers lives in Chicago. She’ll interview you at the hotel while you’re there for the taping.”
Jane heard Nick saying something in the background. “Nick says to tell you that they bumped Nora Collins for you,” he said. “I gather she’s none too happy about it.”
Jane heard what sounded like “tired old cow” being called out in Nick’s voice. Kelly laughed. “Anyway, I think that’s all the news for today.”
“I hope so,” said Jane. “I don’t think I could take any more. As it is, I’m not sure where to start to prepare.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll walk you through it all,” Kelly assured her. “You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re a superstar.”
“A superstar,” Jane repeated. “All right, then.”
She hung up for the third time that morning. For the next ten minutes she sat staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring again. When it didn’t, she took out a pad and started making a list of everything she had to do before leaving for Chicago. In the end it contained only two items.
1. Go over store business with Lucy
2. Find something to wear
“I guess there’s not so much to do after all,” she said as she looked at the list. She felt as if there should be more involved. Then she thought of something else.
3. Tom
Having a third thing made her feel oddly relieved, even though she knew full well that Lucy would be happy to stay with Tom and look after him. It gave her something to cross off the list and gave her a feeling of accomplishment. At the moment everything else in her life felt as if it were totally out of control. Her book was taking on a life of its own and dragging her along with it. After waiting so long to be published again, suddenly it was happening much too quickly.
She called Lucy in and gave her a brief rundown of what was happening. As she’d expected, Lucy was only too happy to stay with Tom for the week. Going over the store business took very little time as well, and at the end of fifteen minutes Jane had just one item on her to-do list.
“What does one wear on daytime television?” she asked Lucy.
“Nothing white,” Lucy answered instantly.
“White?” said Jane. “Why not white?”
“In case you get your period,” Lucy explained. When Jane looked at her with a confused expression, Lucy added, “I’m just saying. You don’t want to be up there onstage and get a note from Sally.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Jane asked. “Aunt Flo? A note from Sally? You’re like a gynecological thesaurus.”
“Blame my mother,” said Lucy. “She never called things by their real names. Until I was seventeen I called my vagina my weet-woo.”
“I suppose that’s better than calling it your lady garden,” Jane mused. “Anyway apart from not wearing white, we haven’t narrowed down my fashion options.”
“I’ll come over tonight,” said Lucy. “We’ll go through your closet and see what you have. I’m sure something will work. And if not, we can always go to the mall.”
Jane shuddered. “The mall,” she said, pronouncing the word as if it were an incurable disease.
“Yeah, well, you might just have to suck it up,” Lucy told her. “I’m not letting you meet Comfort and Joy looking like you usually do.”
“Like I usually do?” Jane said. “What does that mean?”
Lucy indicated Jane with a wave of her hand. “Like this,” she said.
“It’s not that bad!” Jane exclaimed.
“Sorry,” said Lucy. “It kind of is.”
“Byron didn’t seem to think so,” Jane said, her dignity bruised. “Walter doesn’t think so.”
“Byron would make it with anything on two legs,” Lucy reminded her. “And Walter is … Walter. Trust me on this. You need a makeover.”
Jane looked at herself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. She did look tired, and her hair was a bit on the dull side. “I suppose I could use some freshening up,” she admitted.
“We’ll start right after work,” said Lucy. “It’ll be fun.”
The bell over the front door jingled, and Lucy went out to help the customer. Jane remained in the office, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“It’ll be fun.” She repeated Lucy’s promise, trying to sound as if she believed it.