Page 58 of The Accidental Honeymoon

Jay laughs. The sound is genuine and hearty, and it makes my heart ache. "It’s perfect. I can totally see the resemblance."

I scoff, but I’m smiling. "I’m serious. This thing is adorable. I need to take a selfie with it."

"Go for it." He steps back, giving me room.

I pull out my phone and angle it so the chipmunk and I are both in frame. I mimic its wide-eyed, forlorn expression, and snap a few pictures. "These are going to be priceless." I hold up my phone to show him.

His breath brushes against my neck as he looks over my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine. "You’re a natural."

I turn to put the chipmunk back on the shelf, but Jay stops me. "You should keep it."

I raise an eyebrow. "The whole point of a familiar is that it’s symbolic. I don’t actually need to own it."

He shrugs. "Consider it a memento. Something to remind you of today."

"Today’s not over yet." My words are light, but I know what he means.

"Still." His tone is insistent. "I want you to have it."

I hesitate, looking at the chipmunk’s imploring eyes. It’s cute in a hopeless sort of way. I do feel a strange kinship with it. Maybe it’s the way it looks so out of its depth, like it’s trying to survive in a world that’s too big and too fast.

"Okay." My voice softens. "But I’m not taking it as a gift. I’ll pay you back."

Jay shakes his head, but his smile stays. "Whatever you say, Calla." He takes the chipmunk from me and walks to the register.

He’s making this so hard. Hard to keep my distance. Hard to stick to the plan.Hard to remember why I was so mistrustful in the first place.

Jay returns with the chipmunk in a small gift bag and hands it to me. I take it carefully, as if it’s something fragile and precious.

"Thank you." My voice carries more weight than I intend. Not just for the chipmunk, but for everything.

"Ready to go?"

I nod. We leave the gift shop and emerge from the cave. The cool air meets the warmth of the outside world, creating a brief, swirling breeze. I clutch the gift bag to my chest, feeling the chipmunk’s eyes on me. A silent reminder of the day we’ve had.

As we step into the sunlight, I take one last look at Jay. My heart flutters, and a question lingers in my mind.How much longer can I keep my heart safe from him?

twenty

CALLA

Today,we’re visiting someplace that I happen to be really excited about. I skip to the car, making Jay raise his eyebrows. “Waffle House?” he asks. “That’s what it takes to get your engine revving?”

“Ummyeah. Waffle House went from a little diner in our very own Avondale Estates neighborhood to a franchise with thousands of locations throughout the country. It’s a culturaltouchstone. Eggs, bacon, waffles… what more could a person ask for? So yes, I am really excited to go to a museum devoted to Waffle House.”

He laughs. “Wow! So much passion over some waffles.”

“That’s the understatement of the century. Waffle House is everywhere. It’s open every single day of the year, every hour of the day, offering a hot meal at an affordable price to patrons from all walks of life. Waffle House doesn’t discriminate about who they hire or who they seat at the restaurants. They just want to serve good food.” I stop to draw in a much-needed breath. “Welcome to my TED talk. I am delighted that we’re going to a museum about an institution I can reallyget behind.”

“Love the excitement. Save some for when the camera is on, okay?”

I scrunch my nose up and nod. When I was a kid, Waffle House was a special treat usually reserved for Sundays after my father forced my whole family to sit through church. In my mind, Waffle House occupies a prized space that’s normally reserved for my favorite cake recipes and Oprah Winfrey quotes.

When we get out of the car in the museum’s parking lot, I already have a grin plastered on my face. The Waffle House Museum is a two-room shrine to all things greasy and glorious. Yellow-tiled and chrome-bright, it has the nostalgic sheen of a 1950s diner set piece.

Jay holds open the door for me. A bell jingles as we step inside. The smell of syrup and coffee hits me like a warm hug.

Something in my brain chemistry reacts to the faux-diner setup with glowing positivity. I feel like I’ve just had a big hit of an illicit substance. I suck in a breath and reach my hands toward the sky.

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