The Last Dreamer by Barbara Solomon Josselsohn

Author:Barbara Solomon Josselsohn [Josselsohn, Barbara Solomon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781503949645
Amazon: 1503949648
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2015-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Iliana took one last look before she went to the stairs. The sun threw a splash of light from one of the windows onto the floor, and it lit up like a stage. Jeff greeted his two employees when they reached the landing, and they waved to Iliana before sitting at their computers. Then Jeff gestured to Iliana that they should continue down, and she started to descend.

She knew it was time to go. She clearly had all the material any reporter could need for an article. She had spent a lot of time with Jeff, much more than she used to spend with a subject she was profiling. She had met some employees and customers, viewed his product line, heard him make a sales pitch, and even spent some relaxed time talking openly over lunch. And now she had heard him recount his past as well. She knew that he could sometimes be self-serving—his claim that he had demonstrated great acting skill was almost laughable—and yet she realized how strong his need to protect his ego must be. She recognized that the first part of his life was a mix, with thrills as exciting as a lottery win, followed by defeats and misgivings. And she understood his decision to patch what he could and embrace a future with fewer ascents but fewer crashes as well.

And yet, it wasn’t enough. There was something unsatisfying about this moment, like a diet meal, a salad without a roll. She didn’t know if the New York Times—or any magazine, for that matter—would think she had a story worth publishing, but in a way it didn’t matter. She had loved being Iliana Fisher, New York Times reporter, and she had loved interviewing Jeff Downs. She didn’t want it to end.

The thing was, when Jeff was talking, there were times when she felt she was there. She could see him running from girls at the Detroit hotel; she felt breathless, as though she had run, too. She could feel the waist of his frayed jeans as he leaned against the boardwalk railing with his pals. It was just like when she was young and would sit in front of the TV, feeling Jeff’s charm shoot out and envelop her. Just like in her dream on the day she first met him, when he reached through the TV screen to draw her in. This was what she loved about reporting. She had peeled away layers and explored all the nooks and crannies she found underneath, doing exactly what she had told Jeff she always loved to do, from the time her parents bought her a writing desk for her birthday, or even before.

And yet, now that it was over, she couldn’t feel or see or hear any of it anymore—why was that? Why were feelings and sensations so hard to hang on to? She had given birth to two babies, had been a full-time mom to each of them, and even now, not all that much later, she couldn’t feel what it was like to hold them.

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