“Yes! We have to break the glass! Ceilings, walls, all of it.” Hildy bounced with excitement. “That is exactly my struggle.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, I think the time has come. Can I be completely honest with you?”
Please don’t.That was Libby’s first, conscience-stricken thought, since there was no chance she could return the favor. But she nodded anyway, and not only because Jean was glaring at her. If this had anything to do with the reason Hildy had flown here to meet Lillibet, then Libby was all ears.
“I’m still working on the pitch, but it’s like you said. Practice is progress.” Hildy leaned back and then forward again, rolling her shoulders. “Okay. I’m going to dive in. What if there was a magazine that was like the big sister you never had? A place to turn for advice, inspiration, a sense of community, or when you just want to hang. It would be warm yet light, deep but also a distraction when you need one. Impeccably designed but with enough meat to sink your teeth into, only not to the point where you feel like a bad person if you don’t read every single word and then you wind up with a stack of shame on your living room floor. CoughNew Yorkercough.”
“Sounds bloody fantastic,” Jean said.
“What do you think, Lillibet?” Hildy’s expression was so vulnerable, Libby would have said anything to reassure her. Only this time there was no need to pretend.
“I love it.”
“Yeah?” Hildy flashed a dimple. “Is that an environment—and a way of approaching the world—you might want to be part of?”
“It sounds like my dream job,” Libby said truthfully.
“Maybe even the Me-mas of careers?” Hildy asked, face shining with hope.
Libby hoped her faint smile would read as agreement. She tucked a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear, trying to quiet the uproar in her mind. Was it time to tell Hildy something real? It felt like trying to step off a moving treadmill. Her gaze flicked nervously from Hildy to Jean before landing on Jefferson.
He looked back at her with an air of calm that settled something inside Libby. It was like pulling on a sweatshirt when the temperature is just cool enough to make you shiver, and feeling your tensed muscles relax. She’d already shared this sliver of truth with Jefferson, and he hadn’t laughed.
“I’ve always wanted to write human interest features. In-depth profiles of people.”Who are not me.“There’s one I’ve been working on, about Keoki’s grandmother…” Libby trailed off at Hildy’s frown. “Does that not fit with your vision?”
For once, Hildy seemed to be at a loss for words. “I guess I was thinking we would do something more you-focused,” she said at last. “Advice and stories from your life. Meet Lillibet, our in-house adulting consultant, here to share a woman’s wisdom—that kind of thing. Expanding on what you’ve already created, only on a much bigger scale.” Her laugh was closer to a sigh, heavy with self-deprecation. “I had this picture in my head that you would be the beating heart ofLife-comma-Styled.Which is the name of my magazine. Although the comma is silent. Obviously.”
“That’s—wow.” Libby had never imagined feeling simultaneously flattered and horrified. Jean was shooting her murderous looks, silently urging Libby to promise the moon and worry about the details later.
“No pressure. Just because I’ve been building the entire concept around you doesn’t mean you have any obligation to take the job. And by ‘you’ I really mean ‘us,’” Hildy clarified. “I’ll be a presence behind the scenes. Unless you’re a person who checks the masthead, in which case my name will be right there.” Her shoulders sagged. “I came on too strong, didn’t I? I’ve been told I can be a lot.”
“You’re the exact right amount.” Libby had spoken without thinking, wanting only to wipe that doubtful look off Hildy’s face, and the result was a strange hybrid of her real self and something Lillibet might say. Probably another sign of the end times, but at least Hildy perked up.
“I think this is one of those release-and-reflect moments,” she said with renewed confidence, patting Libby’s thigh. “We both need toask the mirrorand then reconvene to share our insights. Am I right?”
Jefferson’s brows lowered in confusion. “You have a magic mirror?”
“It’s a form of soul-searching,” Hildy corrected. “Lillibet can explain it better.”
Libby turned her gaze to the sky, as if hunting for the perfect words. That were not a stream of profanity. “Well, it’s a lot like it sounds. You stare into a mirror and wait. To see what bubbles up.”
“Like thatCandymanmovie?”
“No, JJ.” Hildy swatted his arm. “It’s about self-reflection. I look myself in the eye and sink deeply into my own consciousness, swimming through the layers of resistance until I make contact with my core feelings. What did you call it again?”
“Mirror diving.” Which was almost as bad as Me-mas. One ofLibby’s main takeaways from the last twenty-four hours was that Lillibet’s thoughts were even more vomit-inducing when you had to say them out loud.
Mercifully, Hildy’s phone dinged. She checked the screen, huffing with impatience. “I better take this. My uncle’s been calling all day. Like it would kill him to send a text.”
She stood and walked a few paces before accepting the call. “Hi, Uncle Richard,” Hildy cooed, using the singsong cadence of a preschool teacher. “You know your camera is on, right? Because I’m getting a really intense close-up of the inside of your ear. Seriously, what happened to that trimmer I got you for Christmas?”
She moved out of earshot before they could hear more, leaving behind a thicker-than-usual silence.
“Anyone see the game?” Libby prayed there had been a game. Any game.
Jean’s only response was a what-is-wrong-with-you? scowl, but Jefferson shook his head.
“Keoki used to play,” Libby rambled on.
“That so?” he asked, with what was clearly more politeness than interest.
