“Go ahead,” he says, eyes on the road. “I don’t mind.”
I hit the answer button and stare into the face of my friend. I miss her. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her in person. Willow’s dark pixie cut spikes out on the left side—as if she’s been laying on it. I can just see Jerry in the background of their bedroom.
“Hi!” Willow beams.
“Hey—ah, maybe tell Jerry I can see him. And while his Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer boxers are impressive, I don’t need any more of a show.”
“Willow!” Jerry gripes, just before bustling off screen.
“Sorry, honey!” Willow yells. “I couldn’t wait to call her!”
“I haven’t finished the last book you sent?—”
“That’s not it,” she says, practically bouncing in her seat.
“What’s up?” I say. I’m not sure I’ve seen Willow this excited. “Did Jerry propose?”
“Not yet.” Willow peers behind her and when she’s satisfiedthat we won’t be overheard, she adds, “I saw a ring in his bottom dresser drawer, but he hasn’t asked yet.”
“Will!” I laugh.
“And he doesn’t know I’ve seen it. So, shh.” She slides one finger over her lips.
Roman smirks beside me and I angle the camera his way. “Hey, Willow.”
“Hi, Roman!” she says, that giddy smile still on her face.
“Will, what is going on? You’re like a kid at…” I bobble my head with the irony. “Christmas.”
“Stell, I have news. Big news. You’ll never guess. Ever.” She pulls in a breath and holds it for one second before—“Try to guess!”
I exhale a laugh. “Jerry proposing was literally my only guess.”
“Okay, fine.” She shakes her head, her grin beaming. “You know Marcus?”
“Nope.”
“You do. Jerry’s cousin. He’s working for that high end resort in San Francisco.”
“Right. Marcus.” I’ve never met the man. I would never be able to come up with a name or a face, but I have heard Jerry and Willow talk about the ritzy place his cousin is managing. Willow has high hopes for a family discounted honeymoon.
“He came by on his way through last week. He wanted to see Jerry.”
I glance at Roman, who can hear every word, but he’s quiet, hands on the wheel with a humorous smirk on his face.
“And?” I say, moving Willow along.
“When he was here, he saw your piece. Spiral Song.”
My stomach tightens thinking of my cracked, chipped piece and the award I never had a chance at. “So?”
“He loved it. Cracks and all,” Willow says.
“That’s nice.” I glance at Roman once more, he hasn’t seen my piece. I should show him a photo, I wonder what he’d say about it.
“No, like he freakinglovedit, Stella. So, I showed him more of your work—just the few pictures I have on my phone. But he’s all in.”
“All in?” I say, not understanding.
