Page 3 of A Me and You Thing
The wheels leave the road and the screams of my fellow passengers seem long and drawn out in my ears. The bus floats in the air as if it wants to sprout wings and fly. We’re momentarily suspended in flight, a magical moment wherein the inevitable seems conquerable. We could stay right here, floating in the sky forever.
If only.
My stomach stays on the ground, like it does when I ride a roller coaster. My head spins with a strange dizzy sensation. I fight the force that traps me in my seat, but it’s no use, I can’t get to my feet. But I want to. I want to stand as though I’m in a courtroom, ready to object.
This can’t be happening. No, no, no.I object!
Josie. Jordyn.
The last word to leave my lips is whispered when I realize my fate.
“Sawyer.”
Time catches up with us and speeds ahead, making up for lost seconds. The fall is sickeningly fast and hard. The ground greets us with jolting and jarring force. A loud “umph”is forced from my body, followed by extreme pain when my head meets a hard, unforgiving object. Then I’m overcome by a strange floating sensation before the world abruptly turns black.
Part One
Who She Is
Chapter One
Quinn
One week earlier
SAWYER FACES ME as we lay in bed, snuggling the early morning minutes away before our eight-month old twin girls awaken. In spite of the background fuzz the baby monitor produces, the sound of the ocean and seagulls hit our ears through the open window. We love the fresh ocean breeze in our lungs all night.
“What are you doing?” I ask, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
“Watching you.”
“Is it entertaining?”
“Absolutely. The best thing I’ll see all day.”
He lightly brushes my lips with his own, and I scoot a little closer. Mmmmmm, five years of marriage and my attraction for this man has never waned. I never knew I could love someone so much. Even better, he feels the same about me. We’re far from perfect, yet we’re a perfect match for each other.
Frankly, that’s as perfect as love gets.
I bury my head in his warm chest, listening to the sound of his strong heartbeat. He hasn’t let himself go since we married. He runs every morning at unspeakable hours and, like a fine bottle of wine, ripens with age.
“Are you sure I should go on my trip? I’m consumed with guilt every time I think about it.”
I love our life together in our shingle-style two-story beach house on 5201 Beachcomber Lane. It’s a decent size home, even if it’s a little on the older side. No matter, I adore it. It might not be directly on the beach, but we have amazing ocean views from the second story. Close enough.
“You’ll be doing something important, Quinn, something that really matters. I love you for wanting to go, for wanting to help. Your passport arrived yesterday. See, it’s a sign. The universe just sent you a telegram.”
A light scoff emerges from me. He runs his hands through my longish blond hair. My brown eyes close while I enjoy his tender touch.
“What was I thinking? I don’t want to leave you or our babies.”
“Hey, it’s only two weeks, sweetheart. In the scheme of things, that’s hardly any time at all. Besides, the Grandma Gang’s so excited, they’ve been ready to invade our turf for weeks now.”
His endearing term for our mothers makes me giggle. “Be afraid. Be very afraid.”
He kisses my forehead lightly. “Hey, my knees are already shaking.”
I giggle again, holding him tight. All I want to do is stay right here in his embrace for the rest of my life. I run my hands over the length of his sinewy back, his smooth skin velvety on my fingertips. His lips trail down my cheek, then he nuzzles my neck. I love it, but my mind is working on overtime.
