Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford

Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford

Author:Jamie Ford [Ford, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Literary, Asian American
ISBN: 9780804176750
Google: WqEwDwAAQBAJ
Goodreads: 33572784
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2017-09-12T04:00:00+00:00


“Right down there,” Maisie said.

Ernest nodded and sighed as though a weight were lifting off his shoulders, floating away like the hot-air balloon. “I guess that ended up being my best moment, even though I didn’t know it at the time.”

Maisie wiped her eyes and blamed the wind. “See—you’ve proved my point.”

“I’ve never told that to anyone,” Ernest said. “I don’t think about those days very often. I try to forget, because sometimes I have bad dreams.”

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again the world had fallen into darkness. The lights had been put out to mark the official closing of the fair. The lit buildings, the streetlamps, every bulb, had vanished into pitch black, as if the world below them had fallen away, been swallowed whole. He heard the crowd for a moment, then an aching silence followed by a lone bugler, who played a sad melody.

“You know my secret,” Maisie said. “And now I know yours.”

Ernest sniffled and held his emotions in check as he thought about happier moments—Fahn’s oatmeal cookies, her warm, soft kisses, lying next to Maisie on that soft bed of clover, trading bites of a crisp, sugarcoated apple. He tried to take those new memories and the broken pieces of his heart, rearrange them, somehow mend them together, even as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he strained to find definition in the murky world he was floating in. That’s when he felt Maisie slide closer, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as well. He could feel her warmth through plush, supple layers of fabric. She smelled like perfume and flowers and happiness. Ernest’s heart raced as the gondola drifted and they heard wistful strains wafting up from the crowd below. Fifty thousand people began singing “Auld Lang Syne,” and surrounded by emptiness, gently rocking to the sound of melancholy, Ernest and Maisie sang along in whispers.

He turned as she leaned closer and her arms slipped into a quiet embrace. He felt her hair on his cheek, the softness of her breath as his hands found her waist. He was awed at her touch and what the human heart is capable of feeling—such sadness, such shame, but such acceptance, such joy, all at the same time.



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