Nobody Will Tell You This But Me: A True (as told to me) Story: 'I loved this book more than I can say' Nigella Lawson

by Bess Kalb

“Bubbalah, when the earth is cracking behind your feet, you go forward. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other.”

Bessie, if you try on a dress and you don’t immediately want to parade outside the dressing room and show it off to everyone in the store, take it off and forget it ever existed.

“To the love of my life. May she always get what she wants, whether I like it or not.”

Bessie, beware of men who have gone their whole lives without hearing the word “no.”

She once mentioned to him she’d go back to school when he was established in his career and making a salary, and he laughed and didn’t look up and said, “You’ll have your hands full with the rug rats by then.” He really said that. Rug rats. Imagine being as smart as your mother and not seeing a single warning sign?

If you’re born a man and halfway decent at something, everyone will tell you you’re great.

You’re like me. Easily upset. Easily stuck. Easy to cry. Easy to mope. Easy to lie through your teeth, to swallow the blood in your mouth and laugh.

What have I always told you, Bessie? What have I always said? You’re my angel. I am you. I’m the bones in your body and the blood that fills you up and the meat around your legs. I’m the softness of your cheeks and the way they freckle in the summer, and I’m the streaks of rust in your hair, and I’m the nose under your nose and the eyes that narrow with fire and roll backward in delight at all the same things. I’m your style. I’m your laugh. I’m the rage in your heart that I’m not here. You’re the body I left behind.