Great Big Beautiful Life

“I was a news story the moment I was born. From before my first breath, there were two distinct Margaret Iveses. There was me, and then there was the other one, the one who belonged to the public. Who got written about. Who people loved at times and hated at others, and no matter where I stood with the public, I understood that it wasn’t really me.”

“For the one you love? Anything. You unmake the world and build a new one. You do anything to give them what they need.”

“That’s what my family used to make themselves very rich—and like Dove Franklin says, powerful too. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. Even if you’re the one to build the monster, you’re never going to be able to control it. It’ll gladly eat you alive and floss with your bones, once it’s finished with everyone else.”

“She lies to me too. For whatever it’s worth, Margaret Ives isn’t telling me the truth.”

“He was the one who built the House of Ives as the world knows it. But I’ve always thought of him as the beginning of the end. The stepping stone that decided the entire path. The first domino that tipped. The one who, for better or worse, set every moment of my life into motion.”

“I am who I am. I like the things I like. I’m good at the things I’m good at. And my mom—she’s her. Telling her that it hurts my feelings that she’s not interested in my work won’t change how she actually feels. She’ll just act different. And I don’t need that. I don’t want her to pretend to think what I do has value. That would feel so much worse to me.”

“I think she loves me because I’m her daughter. But I’ve never felt sure she loves me because I’m me. Does that make sense?”

“Don’t say that. I want you in my business. I’m inviting you into my business.”

“You know, my mother was ahead of her time. The kind of woman who wanted to have it all. She knew she deserved it too. But the problem is, once you love someone, you can’t have it all anymore. Love comes with sacrifice. That’s how it works.”

“I’ve always felt most myself when I’m alone.”

“Because then, suddenly, they’re incredibly proud, but they’re proud of the accomplishment, not of the work. So you feel like you have to keep accomplishing instead of just creating. It affirms the idea that the value in what you do is how people react to it, and not just in the making of it. I’ve written stuff I’m really proud of that hardly anyone read. I’ve written stuff I’m proud of that no one liked. That doesn’t mean it didn’t deserve to be written.”

“Sometimes I just miss this. Being close to someone. Being touched. Not just sex, I mean.”

“He was the love of her life, and he let the world make him too small for her.”

“But if you want something done right, you don’t go with easy. I’ve thought about it, and this is how I want to do it.”

“But this is who I am, and even if you don’t understand it, couldn’t you just pretend for a few days a year that you respect me? That you like me? Because I can’t figure out how to be anyone else, and it’s lonely, it’s so fucking lonely being the person who doesn’t belong in this family.”

“It wasn’t enough for you to kiss me—and let’s be clear here, you kissed me—shut me down, and insult my ability. You had to show up here tonight, to what? Ruin my date? Or—did you not even believe I had a date? Well, guess what! You win! I don’t! He’s not coming after all! He, like you, changed his mind at the last second. I guess I have that effect on a certain kind of man. So if you’re done chasing me down the street to get a good look at my humiliation, I’d love to go home right now and pretend this night—this whole last week—never happened.”

“Inappropriate? I didn’t think so. Curious? Exceptionally, seeing as how my husband had to have passed away at least thirty years before you were even born.”

“I promise. I love touching you. I love kissing you. I love hanging out with you. I love this.”