“I figured,” he said. “Just like I think you’ve already started reading my book.”
“How presumptuous!”
“Ouch! My bad.”
I don’t answer him anymore. Instead, I immerse myself in reading his book.
As I progress, the writing changes, and I start to write on it, edit, cut, and highlight. I’m almost to the end of the book in just over two hours, with many changes. I’m having some doubts, so I email Danny:
“I’m sorry, Danny, did you send me the wrong file?”
I return to his book to review the last few pages. In the meantime, he answers:
“I was wondering how long it would take you to figure that out. How far have you gotten?”
“You’re funny, you know that? I’m attaching the book. Thanks and sorry for the notes.”
“No, I can’t believe it. Have you already finished it? Wow! Don’t apologize. I wanted to see what you would have done, starting with an idea. I’m going to review it. Thanks, Hailey.”
“I love your books, not to mention the fact that your publisher sends me your book the day before it goes public. But now I feel terribly guilty for taking notes for you. It was still a pleasure to have your work in my hands. Have a good evening.”
I turn off everything and go down to prepare dinner.
Jeremy should be back in an hour.
Tonight I decided to make chicken with potatoes, salad, and a pie that Jeremy loves. While the chicken and potatoes are in the oven, I start setting the table.
I hear the garage door close, and then Jeremy walks into the house with a bouquet of roses. “Hello, baby.” He greets me with a kiss.
“Hello, honey. Welcome home.”
“Thanks, love. I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll be there for dinner.”
“Okay, see you later, and thanks for the roses.”
He winks at me.
I turn off the oven and put the salad and wine on the table.
The phone beeps in the back pocket of my jeans. I take it and see an email.
I decide not to open it. I’ll read it tomorrow morning. I put the roses in the living room as Jeremy comes down in shorts and a tank top.
“That smells amazing. What did you make?”
“Chicken with baked potatoes and a walnut pie.”
“Hmmm, how lucky am I?” he asks as he hugs me. “I missed you.”
I reciprocate the hug. “You’re so lucky because the walnut piece turned out really well.”
We finish our dinner. While I clean the kitchen, Jeremy looks at me.
“Tell me, what happened?” I ask.
“Why do you ask?”
“Jeremy, I know you enough to know that when you have to tell me something, you stare at me and then bring me white roses.”
