Page 38 of The Best Wild Idea
She laughs. “He was the better part of me, too. I don’t know what’s gotten into me since he died. I’m like a raging bitch that can’t rein it in. And don’t tell me I’m wrong.” Her eyes fly to mine, looking slightly alarmed. “But also don’t agree with that either, please.”
I purse my lips, not allowing myself to agree. “No, I get it. Losing someone can change a person past the point of recognition.” I wait until our eyes meet, hoping she gets what I’m trying to say. “But I don’t think you’re a raging bitch.” She cocks a brow at me, making me laugh. “You really don’t have to explain it to me, Jules. Of all people,” I remind her.
We sit in silence for a moment, both feeling the weight that comes with missing the one person we both loved the most — his absence, hanging in the air between us. Lighter though, somehow, like just having someone else to hold the weight of it with you somehow eases the load.
“He also wrote that we’re jumping out of a perfectly good plane tomorrow.” She brings the wine glass back up to her lips, taking a bigger gulp this time. “So, you weren’t lying about that part after all.”
“You’re going to love it,” I tell her. “Promise.”
“Wholeheartedly doubt that.” She drains the glass.
“You’re welcome to squeeze my arm anytime you need it tomorrow, though.”
She shoots me a look, but the beginning hints of a smile take over before she can stop it.
Ha.
It dawns on me that I haven’t actually seen her eat anything today, and the way she’s downing the wine makes me think she may regret it once we’re zooming across the runway in a tiny prop plane tomorrow morning. Plus, the Jules I used to know wasn’t one to shy away from the inevitable downward pull of being hangry.
I get up to see what’s hidden under the silver domes on the cart. There’s a wedge salad under the first one, so without a word, I pull the plate down and hand it to her with a fork along with the little silver dish of dressing on the side. She sets it down on the coffee table between us, then pushes it away.
“Jules, eat,” I scold, staring at the plate. “Trust me when I say you’re going to want something in your stomach before you go to bed tonight. Little planes feel like a rollercoaster at takeoff, but that’s nothing compared to free-falling from thirteen thousand feet up. At the very least, get some lettuce between you and that red wine before bed, please.”
She cracks a smile, then pulls the plate back onto her lap, setting her empty wine glass on the table in favor of a fork.
I lift the other dome off the tray, surprised to see a thick steak sitting on the plate, with a mound of roasted veggies beside it. A cloud of peppery spices wafts up to my nose, making my stomach rumble. I wouldn’t have guessed Jules would order a steak in addition to that salad. She must be hungrier than she’s letting on.
I grab the plate and turn to put it on the coffee table in front of her, but she puts one hand up to stop me, her mouth still full.
“No,” she mumbles between bites. “That’s for you.”
I look at the rib eye, then at Juliet, who’s gone back to arranging her next bite.
“For me?” I figured she’d rather I starve to death so she could collect my death certificate and finish the trip without me.
“Don’t make a whole thing of it,” she huffs, still chewing. She waves her fork at me without looking up. “I figured you’d be hungry too.”
Instead of saying another word, I sit down beside her on the couch, the plate of food balanced on my knees. Then I reach behind me to grab another set of silverware off the tray and cut into the steak, trying not to smile or read too much into the fact that she was thinking of me when she ordered this food. It might be the smallest gesture, but it’s not nothing. I’d had a late dinner planned at the hotel’s five-star restaurant downstairs, but I can tell that she doesn’t want to get dressed to go do that right now.
I saw the steak in half and plop the thicker portion down on her plate, right next to her salad.
“I don’t need that—” she starts to protest.
“Shhh,” I whisper, not turning away from my plate. “Just eat it. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
We sit in silence, both working away at our steaks, while I start to think that maybe, just maybe, there’s still hope for this trip after all.
Chapter 16
Juliet
The next morning, we’ve gone through a long safety briefing at the private hangar that basically covers all the ways we can die, including the very traditionalmy chute didn’t openoption, before signing all our legal rights off to the skydiving company.
The whole thing has me feeling like this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever gotten myself into.
I glance over at Jett, the tandem diver who will be strapped to my back, his name really quite fitting. Jett has an ever-present smile on his face, with shoulders that are around four times the width of mine. He looks to be in his early twenties. I wish he looked a little more seasoned or experienced, but I’m doing my best to ignore what we’re about to do while I select a bright purple jumpsuit with a pink stripe up the side from a rack of flight suits they set out for me. My brain silently adds quippy comments while I try to make my selection.
Is that really the best choice to die in?
