“Maybe she was hurt in the past, in which case when she eventually has sex that’s going to be a big deal and she’s going to be dealing with those issues.”
“What issues?”
“That’s for me to figure out when I’m writing. I ask myself what’s in the character’s past. What do they want? Why do they want it?”
“I never realized it was so complicated. You think like this for all your characters?”
“Yes. That’s what makes them real to me. I know how they’d act in any situation.”
“Even I don’t know how I’m going to act in any given situation, so you’re one up on me. So what happens if the character doesn’t know what they want?”
“Then they figure it out over the course of the book. And sometimes what they want changes, of course. That’s the fun part of writing—working out what they’ll do. Throwing in some surprises. And every book, every character, is different because no two people ever do the same thing even when faced by the same situation.”
“You mean some people always do the right thing and some the wrong thing.”
She knew all about that. She was the second sort.
“No, that’s not what I mean.” Matilda put the coffee mug in front of Fliss. “Who decides what is ‘wrong’? Wrong by whose standards? What is wrong in our culture may be normal somewhere else. And people are never ‘bad’ or ‘good.’ They’re just people. And ‘good’ people are capable of doing bad things and making bad choices. That’s what makes people endlessly fascinating. For example, ask me if I’d steal and I’d tell you no, but if my baby was starving and stealing was the only way to keep it alive, would I steal then? Maybe. Who knows? None of us know how we’d act if circumstances pushed us to our limits. We don’t always know what we’re capable of doing, or becoming.”
You’re useless, worthless.
Fliss took a sip of coffee. “This is delicious, although that machine looks like you need two doctorates to operate it.”
“That machine is a typical Chase gift.” Matilda made herself tea. “We had a coffee in a coffee shop once and I enjoyed it, so he bought me the same machine. Had it shipped from Italy. All the instructions were in Italian, and I don’t speak Italian. Adorable, but it took me three days, full time, to learn how to work it. And the irony is that since I got pregnant I can’t bear the taste of coffee.”
Fliss laughed, but she felt a little pang of envy. “You’re lucky.”
“Because of the quality of my coffee, or because I have a good man?”
“Both. So going back to the whole sex thing—” Fliss kept her voice casual “—what other reasons do you give characters for not having had sex in a while?”
“The simplest is that they just haven’t met someone they like enough, but that doesn’t make for interesting reading, so generally my characters have bigger issues. Maybe they have serious issues with intimacy. Maybe they’re in love with someone from their past and no one else has matched up.”
Fliss’s heart beat faster. “But that would be crazy, right? I mean when something’s over, it’s over.”
Matilda slid onto the nearest chair. “Are we still talking about my books, or is this about Seth?”
Instantly defensive, Fliss looked at her, fighting the impulse to leave the room. “You know about Seth?”
“I know the two of you were married. He and Chase have been friends a long time. Chase has helped remodel his house. But I guess you already know that.”
Fliss shook her head. “No. I didn’t know that.” But it made sense. Chase was the one friend he’d brought to their wedding. The fact that there was so much of Seth’s life that she knew nothing about felt odd. In some ways he was a stranger. A familiar stranger. And suddenly she had a fierce urge to know more. “So do you see him socially?” Really it was none of her business, and she had no idea why she was even asking that question. Seth Carlyle could have dinner with the whole of the Hamptons if he wanted to. Why should it bother her? Why should she even care?
“He’s been here for dinner a few times. Once he brought Na—” Matilda stopped herself finishing the sentence, and Fliss gave a shrug, hoping the hideous lurch of her stomach hadn’t been reflected in her expression.
“If ‘Na’ is a woman, you don’t need to worry about me. Seth and I haven’t seen each other in a decade. We’re definitely history.”
“Her name was Naomi, but they’re not together anymore.”
“Right.” And that fact shouldn’t interest her. It really shouldn’t. It certainly shouldn’t lift her spirits. It was inevitable that a man like Seth wasn’t going to stay single for long. She suppressed the impulse to ask a thousand questions about Naomi.
“I was so relieved when they broke up.”
“She was wrong for him?”
“Well, yes, there was that, and also the fact she made me feel totally crap about myself. You know there are some women who fall out of bed looking put together? Perfect hair. Perfect skin. Not an ounce of extra flesh anywhere. No accidents with champagne glasses or cartons of cranberry juice. Naomi was like that. She was really sweet, but I always felt she was privately amazed that someone like me hadn’t been wiped out by evolution.”
Fliss laughed. “So she broke it off?” Had she managed to make that question sound casual?