Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I rolled my eyes, and then I got up and plucked the notebook and the pen from his hands. After I scrawled a message on the first page, I handed them back to him. “There. Now it’s messed up, so you can go ahead and write in it.” He chuckled at the message, which said: Write in the fucking notebook, Daniel. “Come on, let’s get to work.” He hurried after me as I headed for the balcony.
The next few hours were surprisingly productive. We spent some time bouncing ideas off each other, and then we began making some notes. I still had that fragment of a melody drifting around in my head, and I started bringing it together with some lyrics that had been doing the same thing. By dinnertime, the first draft of a new song was mostly fleshed out.
I got up to use the bathroom, and on the way back, I retrieved my phone from the foyer. Ginny had texted several times. Since I hadn’t replied, her most recent message said: Okay, seriously? You’re going to leave me hanging? I’m worried about you, and you’re not even checking your damn messages?
Ginny had taken on the role of my protector at the very start of our relationship. I was forever getting bullied in junior high, since I was a shy, skinny nerd with glasses, and she’d stepped in to defend me. Thirty-five years later, she was still doing it. I wasn’t sure if it even registered that I was a grown man now, and not that scrawny thirteen-year-old. But I knew it came from a place of love, so I didn’t complain much.
I sent a text letting her know everything was fine, and that Daniel and I were both writing. She replied: I’m happy you’re finding your mojo again. Have you mentioned the wedding yet to see how he reacts? I promised I would and stuck the phone in my pocket before returning to the balcony.
As was often the case, mid-October in San Francisco was clear and sunny, but it wasn’t all that warm. Daniel’s solution had been to gather up every spare blanket he could find, and he’d used them to build himself a big, round nest on one of the lounge chairs. He’d also wrapped the scarf I’d given him around his head and tied it just above his forehead, so it looked like he had floppy bunny ears.
He was writing at a quick pace as I closed the balcony door behind me and returned to my seat. After a minute, he looked up at me and smiled. “It seems to be going well,” I said.
“It is. I mean, it’s probably total crap, but it feels good to be writing again. I’d actually forgotten how much I love it.”
“Are you ready for a dinner break, or do you prefer to keep going?”
“I’m at a good stopping point, and I’m actually really hungry.”
“We don’t have to do room service for the third time today if you don’t want to. Your suit was delivered, so we could go out to dinner if you feel like a change of scenery.” We’d ordered sandwiches for lunch and nibbled at them while we were working.
“I’d rather stay in, if that’s alright with you.”
“That’s always my preference.”
While I got up to bring him the room service menu, he held up his open notebook to show me only a few pages remained. “I can’t believe I’ve almost filled this. The last time writing made me this happy and flowed so easily was when I was in high school.”
“Really? That long?”
“Pretty much. In college, it became about trying to give my professors what they wanted so I’d get good grades. After that, it was all about trying to write a manuscript that would sell. That was guaranteed to suck the joy out of it.”
“You’re right.”
Daniel set aside the notebook and took the menu when I offered it to him. After we decided on dinner and I placed the order, he asked, “Would it be okay if I came back tomorrow and we did this again?” He quickly added, “It’s fine to say no. I’m sure you’re busy, and—”
“I’d love to do this again, and tomorrow’s wide open. So’s most of next week, aside from an appointment here and there. Until Friday, anyway. That’s when I’m flying to Vancouver, a week ahead of my sister’s wedding.”
I took Ginny’s advice and watched for a reaction, mostly so I could prove her wrong. But at the mention of the wedding, Daniel looked startled, and for a moment it seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say or do. Then he tried—and failed—to pull up a neutral expression as he said, “Oh, your sister is getting married?”
Was Ginny actually right? Did Daniel have some kind of agenda, and did it have something to do with that wedding?