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“So we’ll travel some other way,” I counter with renewed enthusiasm.
“And we’ll buy you a whole wardrobe of whatever you want,” I add, making a special note in my mind that she’s gonna need either a ton of underwear or none at all, depending on where we end up.
Jen makes a face, and I can see her anxiety about flying without having to probe her deeper on that point.
“Flights for today are all booked anyway,” I muse aloud, fingering the keyboard and bringing up some other travel options.
Driving cross country is a last resort, but the only thing left is…
“How about trains?” I ask her, having a flash of brilliance.
“Are you okay with the idea of a train?”
Jen gives me a sidelong glance and then finally rolls her eyes, giving up as there’s no point trying to talk me out of something once I’ve made my mind up.
“When you want something, Jen,” I lecture her. “You’ve just gotta reach out and grab it…,” I say.
“With both hands,” she drones back to me, throwing her hands up in the air before rolling her eyes again.
“I swear, if it wasn’t for your deep voice and man bits, it would almost be impossible to tell you and Abby apart sometimes,” she chuckles.
Letting me know with a shrug before she hugs her elbows that she thinks she’ll be fine with trains.
“Just no flying, please,” she pleads. Already looking like she’s regretted being my partner in crime without actually saying yes, but not having said no either, I’m assuming she’s with me on this.
“Great,” I exclaim. “Then it’s settled. Hmmm. No trains today either,” I sigh, scrolling through the timetables and ticket options.
“We can leave tomorrow, though,” I finally announce, but Jen’s busying herself with clearing the table.
Leaving the planning up to me, I’ve already spotted the perfect train option.
First class all the way, no stops, and if I book online, we can get a five-star hotel with limo transfers to and from the station.
Perfect!
I think it sounds romantic and exciting even if Jen isn’t doing cartwheels right now.
I just hope whatever trouble Abby’s in, or even better, not in, can wait until tomorrow.
But the real question is, canIwait that long to find out if Abby’s really okay?
Typing in my details on the laptop as I strain to see the screen in the increasingly bright sunlight, I make all the arrangements.
If only to put my mind at ease, I’m actively doing something.
If I’d felt this way last night, we’d probably already be in New York.
But last night was something I’ll never forget, and I’m grateful for every second Jen, and I have had so far.
And something tells me that maybe Jen’s hesitancy to travel or even to see Abby or her mom might just be because we both know there’s no point trying to hide our feelings from anyone else.
Not even for one more day.
Feeling like I’ve done enough work for one morning, I make my way inside, asking Jen if she’s okay.
She’s packing away some dishes and moving about in the kitchen.
Her shapely body under my T-shirt gives me more than enough to get distracted by.
