And if this is real . . . I might move to New York. Near you. No more hypothetical scenarios. We could finally meet.
FROM: Lily G. <[email protected]>
TO: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
DATE: January 8, 7:38pm
SUBJECT: Re: Happy New Year
Strick, that’s AMAZING! All of it! The news about Elves and that you might move to New York! That we might meet in person!
I’ve been thinking for a while that maybe we could “meet” before you move here. How do you feel about a video chat? I’d really love to see you, even if it’s through a screen. Only if you’re comfortable, of course.
XO,
Lily
FROM: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
TO: Lily G. <[email protected]>
DATE: January 8, 9:22pm
SUBJECT: Re: Happy New Year
I’d like to see you too. I can do Sunday. How about 12pm, New York time? That’s 7pm for me.
FROM: Lily G. <[email protected]>
TO: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
DATE: January 8, 7:38pm
SUBJECT: Re: Happy New Year
I’m so relieved you agreed. Sunday is perfect. I’ll send a link.
See you then!
XO,
Lily
FROM: Lily G. <[email protected]> TO: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
DATE: January 12, 12:11pm
SUBJECT: Video chat
Hey, just checking to see if you might be having trouble logging in? I’m here!
FROM: Lily G. <[email protected]>
TO: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
DATE: January 12, 12:14pm
SUBJECT: Re: Video chat
Still here . . . Should we reschedule? If so, that’s totally fine! I know there’s a chance the connection might be spotty where you are.
FROM: Lily G. <[email protected]>
TO: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
DATE: January 20, 10:24pm
SUBJECT: Re: Video chat
Hey Strick,
Are you okay? It’s been a little over a week since we were supposed to have our video chat, and I still haven’t heard from you. Did you get a last-minute travel assignment? I’m hoping you didn’t drop your laptop into a river again.
Either way, I’m still here and thinking about you. I’m also still willing to meet.
XOXO,
Lily
FROM: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
TO: Lily G. <[email protected]>
DATE: January 24, 9:22pm
SUBJECT: Re: Video chat
Lily, I shouldn’t have let this go on for as long as I did. I would love nothing more than to meet you. But I’m not who you think I am.
We can never meet. I’m so sorry.
FROM: Lily G. <[email protected]>
TO: N.R. Strickland <[email protected]>
DATE: January 24, 9:23pm
SUBJECT: Re: Video chat
Wait . . . what? What is happening?? If you’re not N.R. Strickland, then who are you? Have you just been lying to me this whole time?
FROM: Mail Delivery Subsystem <[email protected]>
TO: Lily G. <[email protected]>
DATE: January 24, 9:24pm
SUBJECT: Delivery Status Notification （Failure）
Delivery to the following recipient failed permanently: [email protected]
The error that the other server returned was:
The email account you tried to reach does not exist. Please try double-checking the recipient’s email address for typos or any unnecessary spaces. Learn more at: https://support.google.com/mail.
PART TWO
REAL LIFE
2
Five months later
Lily wasn’t under the impression that she was a woman of many talents. But she was good at hiding. Very good.
Phone in hand, she threw a glance over her shoulder as she snuck into the coat check room at Rosa Mexicano, the fancy restaurant in Midtown New York City. It was late June and, given the heat, there shouldn’t have been many coats hanging, but Violet’s fashion friends found any reason to wear elaborate, if not unnecessary, jackets. Lily crouched down and crawled behind a long, olive green leather trench coat and sat pretzel style on the floor. She opened a text from her boss, Edith.
Did you remember to print out my emails before you left
It should be illegal for bosses to text employees on a Saturday. Especially if those bosses couldn’t be bothered to use punctuation. Lily sighed and quickly typed out a response.
Hi, Edith. Yes, I printed your emails and left them on your desk. I hope you’re enjoying your vacation!
Edith had this thing about emails, meaning that she didn’t like to read them on her computer. Every morning, Lily arrived at least an hour before the rest of her colleagues, printed out Edith’s emails and left them on her desk. Edith was old-school publishing. She got her start in the days when people were still allowed to smoke in the office and authors submitted manuscripts directly to the company via snail mail. She’d been away at her summer home in Vermont for the past week and had asked Lily to print all of the “important” emails she’d missed so that she’d be able to read them first thing Monday morning.