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Today is another book launch, but these titles are a little different and seem to be doing a little better, according to Petra, her publishing agent.
By the length of the line around the block, I’d say she’s doing alright by her readers. Giving them what they want.
Making sure I don’t miss out, I always have her sign the first print of the first edition.
I’m her biggest fan.
I found her first draft beside the bed one morning and thumbed through it.
It sounded a little familiar and made me hot as hell for her. By the time she came back to the bedroom after putting Jamie to sleep, I made her show me just what she had in mind during every bedroom scene.
I had her act out every position, scenario, and sentence as I filled her with the only thing I know that makes her scream louder than Jamie.
I suggested she submit her work for publication. Of course with different character names. I didn’t want people knowing it was my wife they were reading about.
“All names are to be changed, to protect the innocent,” those were my only terms.
She thought I was cracked, wanted to publish computer science textbooks instead.
After it cost us a few thousand and she’d sold all of three textbooks in her first year, the manuscripts started coming thick and fast once she clinched her first book deal with the story of how we met ‘Hearts on Campus’.
I can’t remember how many editions there have been so far. They sell out as fast as they’re printed.
Today is another day away from her real work as she calls it, taking more time out for her writing over computer science. Something I know she juggles because she loves both so much.
And her family, of course. We don’t miss out on anything just because mommy’s busy. No sir.
We all do what we can, and I help out around the house, looking after Jamie and cooking, cleaning up when mommy has to work.
“She’s coming, just a minute, baby girl,” I coo into Jamie’s ear. She’s starting to fidget, getting antsy because this is taking too long and the people clapping are probably hurting her ears.
“And so without any further introduction… Katelyn Webster, author of ‘Hearts on Campus’.”
I still get a kick out of watching her, before, during, and after these things.
She gets so nervous beforehand, got sick once and I thought we were having another baby but it was just nerves.
When she comes out, it’s all professional, cool, and calm like she’s got this in the bag because she does. She totally owns it every time.
And afterward, I take us out to dinner and put Jamie and Jane to bed once we’re home again, we sit up in bed late and talk about how crazy the whole thing is.
I tell her how crazy I think she is for sticking with the whole science thing, and she explains how much she loves both.
“And I love you, Wes,” she reminds me, kissing me tenderly as my own ears still ring from all the applause, my eyes stinging a bit but not from all the flash photography.
Stinging as I try not to shed a tear.
“I’m so proud of you, Katelyn. I love you too, we all do but I love you most,” I tell her, sniffing and saying something about pollen being in the air.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says thoughtfully, laying back with her head in my lap.
“I’m done with the research, for now, I could spend more time around here with you guys,” she muses. “I could write, bake brownies… maybe we could work on another project,” she suggests.
“I like the sound of that,” I admit, feeling something stirring underneath her head in my lap.
“What sort of project?” I ask. Hoping it’s nothing to do with computers.
“Oh, I dunno. Maybe a baby brother, sister, or both for Jamie and Jane,” she says absently, and I groan with pleasure, knowing where this is leading and liking it a lot.
“You mean it?” I ask, feeling like this lottery life of mine just keeps gets better and better every day.
“Of course I mean it,” she says, tracing a hand up to touch my face.
“I want a big family Wes, a huge one. Like the one we both said we’d have one day,” she reminds me.
I remember. I think about it every day, grateful for the babies we have and even more for a wife who wants to share herself with me.
“You’re the best mom,” I tell her, kissing her upside down as she giggles when I miss.
“You’re the greatest dad, the greatest man that ever lived,” she says, always happy to outdo me in the compliments department.
I let the title sit with me for a minute, but I know it’s Katelyn who’s my rock.
“Behind every great man…” I start to say.
