Part 38 (2/2)
I turned to look at him. ”Just a penny? That's all you got?”
He laughed. ”You've been unusually quiet. You're never quiet. What's up?”
I leaned back in my seat. ”Nothing's up. I'm just, I don't know, absorbing it all.”
”The wedding?”
I nodded. ”That and a few other things. There's definitely a lot of change in the air right now, you know?” I glanced out the window.
”I know.”
Just then, the plane hit some turbulence, and I jumped.
”I hate turbulence,” I dug my fingers into the armrests.
He put his hand over mine. ”It's OK. We'll be fine.”
I closed my eyes for a few moments, and soon the plane evened out again. The captain turned off the fasten-seat belt sign, and I opened my eyes.
”You doing OK?” Jake said. His hand was still over mine on the armrest.
I nodded. ”I'm fine. I'm sorry, turbulence just really scares me. Doesn't it bother you at all?”
”Not a bit.”
”You're lucky. It really freaks me out.”
He smiled and gave me a funny look.
”What?” I said.
He laughed. ”Nothing.”
”Penny for your thoughts now,” I said.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and nodded toward the flight attendants, who were preparing their drink service. ”Can you use that penny to order me a Sprite when they come by? I'm going to the restroom.”
When he left I looked out the window again. It was completely dark now. I pressed my face against the gla.s.s and tried to imagine what it would be like to be out there, flying through the clouds, hurtling through time and s.p.a.ce.
The flight attendant snapped me out of my daydream to ask me for my drink order.
Jake returned a few minutes later. He sat down and picked up his drink, and just as he took a sip, I turned to him and put my hand on his knee. ”Are you glad you decided to move?”
He looked surprised. ”Am I glad I decided to move?”
I nodded. ”It's a big change. I know that.”
He scratched his eyebrow. ”I don't look at it that way, actually.”
”You don't?”
He shook his head.
”How so?”
”I don't know. I guess I just look at it as a step forward as opposed to just a change.”
I glanced for a second out the window. ”A step forward?”
He nodded. ”Yep. Does that scare you?”
I didn't say anything.
He set his drink down, then reached for my hand, and interlaced my fingers with his. ”Any step that brings me closer to you is a good one, as far as I'm concerned.”
”It is?” I could feel my eyes well up with tears.
He nodded. ”Indeed.”
I smiled. ”That's nice to hear.”
”So to answer your question, yes, I'm very glad I decided to move.”
”I'm glad too,” I whispered.
”As long as you don't tell any more jokes about animals with no legs, we should be fine.”
”Hey, that reminds me-”
He put his free hand over my mouth. ”Please don't, OK?”
”OK.” I laughed through his hand, then took it between both of mine and stared out the window into the darkness. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel how fast we were moving.
Life never stops, I thought.
Soon, I closed my eyes and lay my head against Jake's shoulder.
I didn't know where we were headed, but I finally felt settled enough to enjoy the ride.
As I write this, it's still hard for me to believe that a third Waverly Bryson book has sprung to life. Many of you have expressed that you enjoy spending time in her world, and I do too. Readers may be surprised to learn that each time I begin a new book, I have a general idea for how it will begin, but that's honestly about it. Instead of forcing a story on to the page, I've learned to (try to) be patient and let it gradually unfold in my head. I watch in wonder as this happens, and then I basically just write it down and hope people like it. The idea behind Honey on Your Mind was born on a pretty spring morning in the kitchen of my dear friend Alison Marquiss, the best sounding board a girl could ask for.
My superhuman mother, Flo Murnane (aka ”Ma”) was the first to read the initial draft of the ma.n.u.script. I value her opinion so much that I would have deleted the entire thing had she suggested it. She could also make a good living as a proofreader, although my dad (aka ”Pa”) has the edge on spelling and grammar...kidding. Thanks to both of you for your bottomless love and support, not to mention the occasional yummy care package.
Just like my other books, this one is sprinkled with anecdotes and insights from my own life, and once again, I'm grateful to have friends who provide me with a regular stream of material and expertise on a variety of subjects. This time around I extend a special thanks to the following people: Lindsay Barnett, Lauren Battle, Stu Berman, Steph Bernabe, Kerry Cathcart, Mary Clesi, Chris Conroy, Andrea Ders.h.i.+n, Carlos Escobar, Rosie Al-Saaid Mohammed FitzGerald, Heather Fraser, Val Hirota, Sean Lynden, Kirsty McGuire, Kara Mele, Mitch Miller, Luke Morey, Monica Murnane Morey, Mark Murnane, Immanuel ”Manny” PaluG.o.d, Michele Murnane Sharkey, Danny Stoian, Liz Varland, Garett ”MG” Va.s.sel, and Charlie Wilson. I also want to thank Sarita Bhargava and Alberto Ferrer for their volunteer editing services. (Alberto, I can picture you counting each time Waverly bites her lip, and I love you for it.) On the professional editing side, I was thrilled to work again with Christina Henry de Tessan. She manages to read my mind with her feedback and suggestions, essentially telling me what I wanted to think in the first place. I'd also like to thank Alex Carr at Amazon for being a self-declared and proud fan of books some might a.s.sume are just for women. Thank you as well to my agents, Mary Alice Kier and Anna Cottle, who are working tirelessly to bring Waverly to the big (or small) screen.
Finally, the all-around cheerleader award goes to Annie Flaig and Tami May McMillan. You two have no idea how much I appreciate your unwavering enthusiasm and encouragement. Thank you thank you thank you.
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