Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Wes said, “I appreciate you being so candid with me.”
“I try to be an open book. It doesn’t do any good to keep this stuff bottled up.”
“I’m usually the opposite, but you’re really easy to talk to.” I smiled at him, and after a pause, he made a vague gesture at our surroundings and asked, “Would you like to see more of the office?”
“Definitely.”
I followed him out of the playhouse, and we left the waiting room and headed down a long hallway. “This is my office,” he said, as he opened a door and turned on the lights. It was totally impersonal, which was disappointing. I was dying for clues to shed some light on this man, but none were to be found on the neat desk and tidy shelves.
“Darrah and I have two examination rooms each,” he told me. “Mine are the next two doors on the right.”
The first of these was a sunny room with a yellow color scheme. There was a basket of toys in each corner, and on the walls were a pair of framed ink-and-watercolor illustrations. I moved closer and studied a drawing of two smiling girls in a hot air balloon, soaring high above a whimsical cityscape, and asked, “Is this from a children’s book? It’s incredible.”
“No. It, um, it’s original.”
I turned to him and asked, “Did you make this?” He nodded, and I exclaimed, “Wow, you’re incredibly talented!”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a hobby.”
“It’s definitely not nothing. These are pure magic!” I rushed to the next illustration, which showed two boys sailing across a sparkling ocean full of colorful marine life. “If you haven’t already, you need to publish a children’s book,” I said. “It would become an instant classic.”
“I’m not much of a storyteller.”
“Well, then you just need someone to come up with the words, while you provide the pictures.”
He grinned at me. “Not that I actually said I wanted to publish a book.”
“Your choice, but you’re better at this than most people will ever be at anything in their entire lives. If you ask me, you should share your talent with the world.”
“I’m just glad you like them.”
That was all he had to say on the subject, so I left that exam room and went into the next one. When I flipped the light switch, I squealed with delight and he chuckled. Then I rushed over to one of the pale lavender walls and pressed myself against it with outstretched arms. “You have an Ash room,” I said. “This is so great!”
“I take it the lavender hair isn’t just a passing phase.”
“Nope, it’s me. Every few years I change things up by dying my hair baby blue or pink, but I always come back to lavender. It’s been my favorite color since I was a kid. Back then, I wasn’t allowed to wear it or decorate my room with it, because my stepdad thought it was too ‘girly.’ Now I can wear it all I want, and I do that proudly.”
“Now that I know what it means to you, it makes me sad that you suggested changing your hair color for the wedding.”
I turned to Wes and explained, “The reason I offered is because next week’s all about you, not me. If having lavender hair was going to work against us in convincing your family we’re a couple, it’d be easy enough to change it. Then I’d dye it right back as soon as I returned to San Francisco.”
“I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to put so much into this.”
“I’m totally invested, and I want it to be a positive experience for you,” I said, as I ran my hand down his arm. “It’s not just about convincing your family you’ve moved on, either. I bet it’s been a while since you’ve had a vacation, and I want you to be able to relax and have fun.”
“I never thought of this as a vacation.”
“It can be, though.” I crossed the room to the large ink-and-watercolor illustration on the wall, gasped, and clapped my hands, which made him chuckle. It was a fantasy forest with unicorns and other cute little animals beneath a rainbow, and it was sweet and whimsical and pure magic.
I took my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture of it, then turned to him and said, “That reminds me. Hand me your phone.” He did as I asked, and I used it to snap a selfie. Then I entered my information in his address book and put the photo with it. “Not that your family is likely to look at your phone, but I’m all about the details.”
When I handed his phone back to him, he said, “That’s smart.” He leaned in so we were cheek-to-cheek and snapped another photo. After tapping the screen a few times, he showed it to me and asked, “What do you think?”