The Weekend (Available on Amazon from Silver Phoenix Publishing)

Chapter Two

My Darling B,

So the time has finally come-- you decided to take my advice and cross your own bridge. Yes, that pun was awful! I'd wish you luck, but you don't need it. Just follow your instincts and you'll be autographing your best-selling novel for me. Whatever you do, don't rush it! They say that life imitates art but we both know it's life that creates it. Let your life and your experiences guide your pen. It's all inside you--an amazing story just waiting to be born.

The wife and I had such a wonderful time with you last month. I'm sorry that you won't be joining us at the conference. Your presence will be greatly missed and I fear that no one will understand my jokes the way you do. I wish they'd allow keynote speakers to publish our speeches online instead of forcing us to address the literati in person. Writer? I try. Public Speaker? Methinks not.

Congratulations! I wish you nothing but the best. Enjoy every moment of this journey. And by all means, make yourself at home.

Love,

AJ

With a smile, she folded the letter and tucked it safely back within the confines of its envelope. The sun was rising in the New England sky, and the beams of light made everything around her look new. The phrase 'burning daylight' echoed in the back of her head, but a squirrel in the side yard caught her eye and soon the reminder to begin her task faded. It was warm, and she casually fanned herself with the envelope, still smiling.

Her bare feet dangled over the sides of the porch swing, her big toe lightly skimming the surface of the white wooden planks beneath her. Three days alone and she'd done nothing more than sit in the swing, quietly observing the peaceful surroundings and committing every nook and cranny of the porch to memory. Through the window she could see her typewriter on the table, resting in silence and beginning to collect dust. She looked back at the envelope in her hands, a wide smile on her lips. Sweet AJ! It's just like him to overnight an actual, old fashioned letter to me. It was the only contact she had with the outside world since she'd arrived. Not so much as a word from her husband. Not even a call to check to see that she'd arrived safely. Looking down at her wedding ring, she thought back to the last conversation they'd shared.

"I left the number to the cottage in the study," she called from the bathroom.

"Of course you did. You're so thorough," he replied.

"I'll have my cell with me, but AJ says the signal out there is sketchy at best."

She walked into their room, wrapping up the cord of her blow-dryer before slipping it into her suitcase. He sat on the edge of their bed, a glass of something in his hand. No matter the hour, he was of the opinion that it was never too early for a drink.

"The cab will be here any minute," she said.

"Then let's get your things downstairs. I'll ring down for someone to help you."

"You're not going to walk me down?"

"I'm waiting on a call from Frankfurt--one of the museum curators. I best stay here and wait. I've been trying to reach him for days," he said.

It wasn't that she wanted him to walk her down exactly. She'd made a bet with herself that he'd have some excuse not to. As predicted, she won her bet.

"I'm not sure when I'm coming back. If I get in the zone..." She looked up at him, trying to gauge some sort of emotion.

"I understand perfectly well that aspiring novelists can't operate on a specific timeline. Besides, I'll be up to see you in a few days right after I get things squared away. We'll make a day of it." He stood and draped his arm over her shoulder, kissing her lightly on the temple.