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“You know what, my Wendy Bird? This sounds like an awfully big adventure.” I smile. “It does, doesn’t it?” “But I believe in you.” Then, as if that statement doesn’t completely rock my world, Maggie Davies goes back to crocheting. That’s that. Like believing in me comes as natural as breathing, and I suppose it does for her.
Wendy’s eyes slide over to me. “You packed two for me?” My body heats across my chest and up my neck, and suddenly, it feels too weird that I remembered that detail about her. Not only remembered, but acted on it. “You said you liked them,” I answer. “I do.” “Then, why wouldn’t I do something simple if you like it?”
His eyes meet mine, darting between them before tracing down over my cheeks and to my lips, where he lingers. Maybe it’s for a minuscule second, but it feels like forever. Shivers roll down my back. Maybe the breeze stops. Maybe it gets quicker. Or maybe it’s all in my head.
That’s okay. I’ll keep his secret for him. I quite like having secrets with Jasper Davies.
Good memories of Ed and Stacy. Not the boat or the waves or the nothingness. Something. Wendy always makes me feel something.
