The Meeting Point by Olivia Lara
Twenty
‘Mr. Delphy’. ‘Dear Mr. Delphy.’ No. No dears. I keep writing and deleting, writing and deleting, until I finally manage to come up with a decent message and press ‘submit’ before changing my mind and starting over.
I should call Janice, but I keep putting it off.
Better yet, I should get on the road and drive to Hartford. It’s getting late.
Enough excitement for one day, I say to myself as I get onto FDR Drive before taking the exit toward New Haven.
I just entered Connecticut, and I’m about an hour from Hartford when my phone lets me know I have a new email. There’s a sign for a gas station and I pull in in a shady area next to a truck.
I click on my inbox, hoping but getting myself ready for a spam email.
From: [email protected]
To: Maya Maas
Subject: RE: contact details needed
Dear Maya,
Thank you for your message. We always appreciate when Ethan Delphy’s readers reach out as I know he loves to hear from his fans. I’m sorry to tell you that your request for information is not something we can help with. The author’s sources of inspiration and the people behind his characters cannot be disclosed.
I wish you a wonderful weekend, and thank you for being an Ethan Delphy fan!
Nikky Hurlock,
PR/PA
Fan? I’m not a fan. What in my message made her think I’m a fan? And this guy is not James Patterson or Danielle Steel to have a PR/PA answering his emails for him.
I reply.
Could I possibly speak directly with Mr. Delphy? He might have a different answer once I tell him all the details.
I buy a cup of coffee from the gas station and sit in the parking lot for a few minutes before getting back on the road. If she says no, I can try social media, I guess. Otherwise, what are my options? Stalk him?
Ten minutes later, just as I’m about to leave, my phone beeps. A new email.
The book tour for June After Midnight is approaching. If you’re in any of these locations (schedule attached), you can definitely stop by and say hello. Ethan is a lovely and friendly author who always takes time to talk to his readers.
Nikky
A lovely and friendly author. Sure. If you say so.
The attachment is the tour flier. Thanks, that’s not helpful, is it? Already had this, and I don’t want to wait until the book is out to talk to him. I waited a year to find out what happened. That’s enough waiting.
“I heard back,” I say as soon as Alisa picks up.
“What did he say? Did you find out Max’s name? Address?”
“No. Delphy didn’t even answer my message himself. He had an assistant answer.”
“OK, and what did they say?”
“It’s confidential, and if I want to talk to him, I should go to a book signing.”
“I was afraid that might happen. Sorry, Maya. So, are you going?”
“The first one is on June 17. I’ll lose my mind until then.”
“We’ll hopefully get the book in the meantime, so you’ll have that to keep you busy.”
I pause. A thousand crazy ideas going through my head. “I wonder—”
“Yes?”
“Do you think it would be completely insane if I went there?”
“For his book launch?”
“No. Now. He lives in Carmel, doesn’t he? How hard can it be to find him?”
Silence.
“You think it’s crazy, don’t you?”
“A bit. On the other hand, I know how much this means to you, so it’s less crazy from that perspective. That day is all you’ve been talking about for a year. People get over these things much faster. The fact that he’s still so important to you and now this book… maybe it’s a sign.”
“I was thinking the same thing. The day I decide to leave David, boom! It happens.”
“Wait, what? You left David? When and why didn’t you tell me?”
“Wow, yes, you don’t know. With all this Ethan Delphy excitement, I just—”
“What happened?”
“He sort of proposed. In his own way.”
“That’s ironic, isn’t it? I never imagined it would take a marriage proposal for you to dump him. Are you OK?” she asks.
“I am. I actually am.”
“But where are you going to live?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m at a gas station between New York and Connecticut, on my way to Hartford to stay with my mom for a few days. But now—”
“Now, you’ll find the exit to New York, then the one for JFK, and that’s that.”
I let out a sigh.
“I know you’re over-analyzing things right now because that’s who you are. But don’t. Just do it. It’s better than not knowing, right? Even if the answers you’ll get are not the ones you’re hoping for, at least you’ll get closure.”
I chuckle nervously. “I know you’re right. I guess I’m just anxious about meeting him and terrified of finding out he didn’t show up because he realized that day meant nothing.”
“Maya, he told the story to a guy who wrote a novel about it. I think that qualifies as meaning something. I have to get my hands on a copy. Or two; I want to read it too. I’ll try another editor, just in case. I hope they’ll send the PDF and not the actual book, but just in case, call me when you get to California and give me the hotel’s address, OK?”
“OK,” I say.
“Call me anyway or text me. I want to know how it goes.”
“I will.”
“Good luck. And stop worrying.”