“Thanks, Kimmie.”
“What are you going to do with the money?” she said. “If you’re going to invest it in yourself, something I highly recommend, I know a great plastic surgeon.”
I laughed.
Anna appeared before I could think of an answer. She was holding a ziplock bag that contained my cell phone covered in moss.
“The groundskeeper discovered this for you,” she said flatly. “You do realize there are security cameras everywhere, right?”
I flushed red. “Sorry about that.” I quickly took the phone.
“You also have a phone call.”
“Oh, thank you.”
I knew who it had to be. I quickly said goodbye to Kimmie and followed Anna to a waiting phone.
“Thanks,” I said, cupping the receiver, but she didn’t budge.
I awkwardly turned my back to her.
“Hello?”
“Mama,” a small voice said. My mouth hung open and I was speechless. Even though it was the first time I’d heard her say the word, I knew my daughter’s voice. Tears began flowing down my face.
“Baby,” I managed to choke out.
“Did you hear her?” David’s voice was breathless with excitement. “She said Mama!”
“I know! It’s amazing! When did she first say it?” I was shaking with emotion.
“She saw you on TV and pointed to you and just said Mama.”
A fresh batch of tears cascaded down my cheeks and began to form a damp spot on my shirt.
I heard Anna take a few steps away from me to give me a bit of space, but she still remained close.
“I can’t believe it. Tell her I love her so much!”
“She knows,” David said softly.
The line was quiet for a few moments.
We started talking at the same time.
“David—”
“Ashley—”
We both stopped.
“I want to go first,” I said, turning back to see how close Anna was to me. She’d given me a respectable distance of about six feet.
I leaned into the receiver and lowered my voice.
“I am so, so, so, so, sorry. What I did was wrong. I should have told you. I just need you to forgive me.”
David sighed. “Ashley, you were trying to help. I know that. I made so many mistakes and the biggest one was making you think you were the only reason DentaFresh passed on us.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re a young company. They wanted someone with more experience. I think I just used that email as an excuse to make me feel better. They wouldn’t have gone with us, anyway.”
“I’m sorry, David. Things will get better.”
“No, Ashley. Folding the company is the right thing to do. I need to think about you and Aubrey.”
As amazing as it would be to have David home at a normal hour and not be stressed out, I could hear the pain in his voice and knew I couldn’t let him do this.
I clenched my fist.
“No. David, I won’t let you do this. We’ll use the prize money to help with bills until you get the company back on its feet. I know you can do this. This has been your dream forever. I believe in you.”
As I said the words, I knew they were true. There was silence on the other end of the phone.
“What do you say?” I asked. “All in?”
After a few moments I heard David clear his throat, the way he does when he’s trying not to cry. “All in. I’m all in. I love you, Ashley.”
I smiled like a girl on prom night. “I love you, too, David. I can’t wait to see both of you.”
“You, too, babe.”
When we hung up, Anna ran over to me quickly, her black adult-sized Mary Janes clicking on the marble.
“Before you go, Emily would like to speak to you.”
She took my arm and we run-walked over to a small office just off of the foyer.
Emily was sitting in a makeup chair in front of a mirror framed by bright lights and wearing a pink robe. Her hair was in rollers.
“Ashleeeey!” she squealed. She hugged me, rocking me back and forth like a giant baby. “Were you surprised?”
I held my cheeks. “I almost fainted! I didn’t even know anyone had filmed what happened on the plane! I was just speaking from my heart.”
Emily sat back down on her chair and motioned for me to take a seat in the one beside her.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”
I sat down.
“What do you mean?”
A woman began taking the curlers out of Emily’s hair, sending her hair cascading down her neck like a mini waterfall.
Emily kept her face forward and talked to my reflection in the mirror.
“Ashley, you have a voice. A raw, honest voice that I think mothers everywhere would love. I want you to come work for me.”
I laughed. “Me? Work for you? I can’t cook, clean or make crafts...” I shook my head, confused.
Emily grinned. “I know. That’s why I want you for this. You’re real and messy...”
I cleared my throat, “Messy?”
Emily laughed diplomatically. “In the best possible way, of course. Moms relate to you. I want to add a more...relatable aspect to the blog. I want normal, everyday moms to feel part of the Emily Walker family. My marketing team thinks you’re perfect and I agree.”
I was stunned. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be such an obvious mess, but I totally got it. Emily wanted to inject a dose of reality into her scripted Insta-world.
“Emily, I—”
“Just say yes.”
I stared at her, perfect Emily Walker in her robe with full makeup looking like a vision of everything I’d wanted to be. She didn’t want me to change. I didn’t need to be anyone other than who I already was. I never imagined that someone would want to pay me for that.
“Yes.”
“Good. You start next week. Air kisses!” She pursed her lips in my direction and sucked twice.
“Your car is here, Mrs. Keller,” said Anna, who had been waiting by the door.
“Bye, Emily...thank you...for everything.”
Emily winked at me.
Before I lowered myself into the black Town Car, Anna handed me a white manila envelope.
“It’s your check. Congratulations. I’ll be in touch about the column.” She smiled. I could sense that she was as shocked that I’d be working for Emily as I was.
“Thanks, Anna.”
And we were off to the airport.
1 P.M.
I was sitting in first class again. The flight attendant had offered me a glass of champagne, but I passed. Somehow I’d managed to avoid a terrible hangover but my body still felt like I’d run a marathon on stilts.
There was another baby on the flight, this time accompanied by a mother and father in their early thirties. The toddler couldn’t have been more than two and was raising absolute hell.
“WANT IPAD NOW!” he shrieked as his father unsuccessfully tried to get him to doze off.
“Sammy, the iPad is dead. Would you like to color?”
His high-pitched growl sounded only partially human. Sammy didn’t want to color.