The Weaver – Chapter 3

This is it – crunch time! The Weaver will be released a week from Tuesday and I’m super excited, can you tell? Like I’ve said, and you’ve probably read before, it’s been over ten years in the making (sometimes sitting on my computer for lengthy periods). Today, I give you the last chapter I can officially release and it is the one I sent to an agent in New York City many years ago that caught her attention. Enjoy!!

Three

A
picture of a woman in her fifties flashed on the TV screen, as the male anchor
reported about some type of police investigation. Laney rummaged through a
drawer to find the shorts and t-shirt she wore to bed.

“Rose
Stevens is missing. I love her books!” Missy threw her pillow at the television
and pouted drawing Laney’s attention back to the screen.

According
to the reporter, Rose was a romance hero throughout the book community.

“I
think she still hasn’t finished Married By
May. What am I going to read?” Morgan lay on the floor with one of Missy’s
fluffy, pink pillows.

“Maybe
a textbook or two?” Laney smirked before turning her eyes back to the anchor.

He continued
his segment, mentioning that Rose had been missing for a week. Images of her
legions of fans holding vigils outside her Chicago home flashed across the
screen.

“Rose
never left her apartment, but when her agent came to check on her, she was
gone. Police are considering her disappearance suspicious.” The shot of the
anchor changed to more pictures of the romance novelist.

“Well,
I’m sure she’ll turn up sooner or later. Probably a publicity stunt.” Laney was
sure several famous authors disappeared for a few months at a time, avoiding
the spotlight.  

An hour
later, when some C-list celebrity had just finished her cha-cha-cha, the phone
rang, waking Laney from her comatose state. Morgan scooted out of the room with
a not-so-subtle door slam.

“It’s
for you.” With a wide grin plastered on her face, Missy handed Laney the phone.

Laney
grabbed the phone from Missy’s hand, already knowing who was on the other line.
She knew Jason would call, but she didn’t think this soon. “Hello?”

“Can I
come see you?” His voice sounded ragged and desperate.

Missy
appeared to be reading a textbook at her desk, but the page never moved. Her
roommate would probably never let her out, so she agreed to have Jason come
over.

“Sure. We’re
just hanging.”

“I’ll see
you in a few.”

Laney placed
the phone on the bed. Lying back down, she turned her head toward the wall to
try to avoid the questions hanging on the tip of Missy’s tongue.

“Who
was that?” Missy placed her elbows on her knees and leaned forward, the
textbook now on the floor. “He sounded cute.”

Laney
didn’t talk about Jason that much with Missy for exactly this reason. She
wouldn’t understand how to be best friends with a guy and keep it platonic.

“How
can someone sound cute?” Laney raised her eyebrows. “For all you know, he’s a
fifty-year-old professor.”

“Are
you holding out on me?” One corner of her lip lifted into a smirk and she placed
her hands on her hips like a scolding mother.

Laney
sighed and rolled out of bed. She went to the mirror in her closet to brush her
hair. Wincing from the pain in her head, she took it slow.

“I
think you’re holding out on me. I don’t primp for fifty-year-old professors.”
Missy walked over to help Laney brush her hair. She avoided the sore spot and Laney
relaxed, feeling safe and calm. She closed her eyes and imagined her mother
brushing her hair when she was seven years old.  “So . . .” The brush stopped moving. “Do you
like him?”

Thoughts
swirled in Laney’s head. Jason encompassed the feelings of safety and home, but
William was her one true love, even if it meant she was insane.

“He has
a girlfriend.” Laney rotated a pen between her fingers. It was always difficult
to look nonchalant when you were trying too hard.

“That doesn’t
answer my question.” Missy spun Laney around and took her by the shoulders.

“He has
a girlfriend, Missy.” Repeating the words might finalize the conversation. “End
of subject.”

Two
sharp knocks came at the door. As it opened, Jason walked in with a bouquet of
red roses. Biting her lip, she glanced at Missy. Her jaw hung open, her eyes
wide, with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her finger twirled
around one of her blonde locks. She was gawking. Even Laney had to admit he looked
really good tonight. His jeans fit perfectly around his backside and his deep
green shirt really brought out his eyes. She knew that Missy wanted to stay,
more for fly on the wall reasons than
anything else.

“I’m
going down the hall to see Morgan. It was nice to meet you, Jason.” She gave Laney
the thumbs-up behind his back and headed out the door.

Jason
walked over, handed Laney the flowers, and pulled her into an embrace. Could he
feel her erratic heartbeat? When he let go, she quickly scrambled to her
closet.

“Let me
put these in something.” She kept her face away from his as her cheeks grew
hot, certain they were as red as the sign above her parents’ antique store. “Thank
you for the flowers.” Laney kept her back to him. “They’re beautiful.” The only
other flowers she’d ever received were the bouquet of pink carnations her
father bought her on her sixteenth birthday. The birthday Jason never even
acknowledged.

“It’s
the least I could do. I feel like I owe you a lot more.”

She
turned to him. “Don’t be . . .” His face showed the same anguish she heard in
his voice earlier. “Don’t be stupid. I’m fine.” She thrust her head back into
the closet, cheeks certainly glowing by now. After rummaging for a few more
moments, she held up a tall Tupperware container full of dry spaghetti. “Why
don’t you sit down and stay awhile.”

Jason
bypassed Missy’s chair and sat down on Laney’s bed.

Losing
all control over her hands, the container slipped and the spaghetti spilled all
over the closet floor. Jason jumped off the bed to help her pick up.

“I’m
such a klutz.” Laney gathered a bunch of the spaghetti and placed it in a
Ziploc bag. She had to constantly remind herself that Jason had a girlfriend
and she didn’t have feelings for him beyond friendship. It was ludicrous to act
this way when he was around.

“You’re
supposed to rest . . . doctor’s orders.” Jason put the last handful in the bag.
“Come sit down with me.”

His
smile invited her over. Lowering herself onto the bed next to him, Laney tilted
her head back against the wall. The throbbing pain was still there, but it was
numbed by Jason’s presence. She turned her head and smiled at him.

“I
still can’t believe you almost caught that guy yesterday.” Laney finally relaxed,
clutching her furry, turquoise pillow to her chest.

Jason
shrugged. “He took your bag and then assaulted you. What else could I do? I
thought . . .” He looked away, lowering his voice. “I thought I was going to
lose you yesterday.”

His
fingers ran along the edge of the sheet, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle.
“Anyway.” He turned to her with sudden energy, smiling wide. “I figured
whatever was in the bag was pretty important.”

“Yes.”

When
Laney first developed the characters in her book, she had promised she’d keep
it to herself. Her dad had helped her with the historical accuracy, but he was
useless when it came to story writing. Other than Laney’s immediate family, the
book was off-limits. The thought of people criticizing William’s undying
devotion to his country or his relationship with Anne was unthinkable. She knew
they were set in stone. They were real in her mind, and any change put her
fantasy world in a state of disarray.

“Why
didn’t you just let him have your bag? Things can be replaced.” His trusting
smile and proximity were unlike any temptation Laney had faced before. Her
resolve was melting away at a rapid pace. She owed him something for risking
his life.

“I’m
writing a book.” Laney couldn’t look at him. She mentally kicked herself for
giving in so easily to Jason. The ease she felt next to him on the bed unnerved
her. She’d have to find a way to shake it, or she’d do something regrettable.

“And your
book was in your backpack?” He sat up straighter, leaning in. “Wow, I can’t
believe I’m friends with an author.”

“Aspiring
author.” Laney realized that it felt good to tell someone about her writing,
like she was revealing a deep, dark, repressed secret for the first time.

Jason
leaned back against the wall next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. “What do
you write about?” He put his finger to his lips. “Let me guess . . . history.
You know, with your parents owning an antique shop, I’m sure you’ve caught the
bug.”

“Do you
think I’m that predictable?” Laney kept her shoulder against his. Of course,
she was that predictable. Except for the occasional book world stalker, her
life was so far from interesting.

“Don’t
tell me you write horror stories. I can see the storyline now—girl goes to
college and starts killing unsuspecting boys who bring her flowers.” He smiled
and the dimple on his right cheek formed.

Laney
shook her head. “You really like to entertain yourself. Maybe stand-up comedy
is a better career path for you than medicine.”

“Hey,
doctors need a lot of humor to make their patients feel better.” Jason squeezed
her arm. “So, what’s your book about?”

“It’s a
historical fiction novel.”

“Knew
it.”

“It
includes a little bit of everything . . . action, revenge, and romance.” She
hesitated speaking the last word, certain he could tell that she began to feel
the urge to push him down on the bed and kiss him.

“Can I
read it when you’re finished?” Jason’s interest in her writing unnerved her. Laney’s
writing world existed between herself and her characters.

“Only
if you’re patient. With all the school work being thrown at us, it might take a
while.” She walked over to her backpack and pulled out the leather-bound
notebook. “I’d like to have someone to hash out ideas with sometimes.”

“I’m
your man.” Jason sat crisscrossed on the bed.

Laney could
get used to the idea of their friendship. His absence from her life during high
school had left a gaping hole that was hard to fill. Besides, he was easy to
talk to and she trusted him.

She
opened to the first page of her journal. “I’m sorry I ruined your chance of
going on the cruise in the harbor. Missy said they had dinner and a dance.”

“No big
deal. Jennifer was ticked, but she got over it. It’s not every day that you get
to see a beautiful woman almost take down a mugger.”

He
laughed as Laney’s face burned again. He leaned in closer, and she took in
every detail of his face—his hazel eyes, square jaw—she even noted a small scar
next to his lips.

There
was a knock on the door and Missy and Morgan tumbled in giggling, ruining her
chance to discuss her book—and other things—with Jason. Morgan gawked even more
than Missy, pushing her red hair over her shoulder.

“This
is your room. You don’t have to knock.” Laney’s hands were balled into fists.
With Jason distracted by the girls, she made a shooing motion with her hand.
Hopefully, Missy got the hint.

“I
didn’t know if anything was going on in here.” Missy giggled, collapsing onto
her bed. “As your nurse I need to discourage any acts of physical exertion.” Laney
really liked Missy sometimes, but at other times her maturity level made her
hard to deal with.

“Hey, I
was just leaving,” Jason stood up. “Classes start tomorrow, and I want to be
ready.” Disappointment crossed his face, giving Laney the courage to fight.

“You
don’t have to leave.” She wanted to feel comfortable opening her world to someone
else. If she waited, she might chicken out.

“I’d
better get going. You need your rest and I’m sure I’ll see you around
tomorrow.” Jason grinned at Missy and Morgan. “Nice to meet you ladies.”

The
girls giggled as he slipped out the door.

“Thanks,
Missy.” Laney buried her face in the furry pillow.

“You’re
the one who told me that he has a girlfriend. Don’t get mad at me.” She scrolled
through her phone and blasted some god-awful song, while Morgan reclined in the
chair.

Laney grabbed
her backpack, stuffed the notebook inside, and stormed off to the lounge.

*****

Laney’s
first class began at eight o’clock the next morning, so she set her alarm for
seven. As she walked into the bathroom a line of eight girls were mirror-primping,
but at least she found one free shower stall. The exception to the mirror hogs was
Dawn, her resident assistant. The junior hadn’t come to college to earn her
M.R.S. She walked into the bathroom around the same time as Laney, looking like
she just rolled out of bed.

On the
way into the dining hall, she caught a whiff of bacon and her stomach growled.
There were fewer students at breakfast than she expected. Maybe college
students liked to sleep in, or spend excessive time in the bathroom, which was
the case on her floor. Although the bacon smelled good, she decided on a bowl
of cereal and a bagel.

One
wall of the dining hall consisted of only windows, looking out over a large
pond. Lily pads covered the water, encircled by swamp reeds and cat o’ nine
tails. A morning mist rose from the water, and Laney thought she caught a glimpse
of a kayak at the far end. She sat down by the windows to enjoy the view.

She had
a few minutes after finishing her cereal, so she reached into her bag for her
notebook. A piece of paper fell to the floor. She picked it up, thinking it was
a receipt from a local ATM. The texture of the paper was parchment, which she
found strange because she didn’t own parchment paper. When she opened the note,
she saw an etching in impeccable calligraphy:

I am waiting for
you and I am closer than you think.

Did
Jason think this was some kind of funny joke? If it wasn’t him, then Laney
wasn’t sure who would put a note like that in her backpack. She scanned the
dining hall. Two students lounged at the table next to her each reading a book.
A group of older girls engaged in animated talk on the other side of the room.
Nobody appeared suspicious. Nobody paid any attention to her. Laney scratched
her head.

Then it
became clear—the stranger in the subway station, a.k.a. Jonas Webb.

Chills ran through her body. Jonas wanted the journal in her backpack, and he slipped the note into her bag when he took it from her. It made sense. Laney grabbed her backpack and headed for class, looking over her shoulder the entire way.

I hope you love The Weaver. Please order your copy online where books are sold. What do you think of Jason and Laney’s friendship? Do you think they’ll get together?

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