Page 58 of Rewrites of the Heart

She took hold of his arm, turning it upward so the remainder of the crystals in the box fell into the tub. “There. That should do it, don’t you think?”

“You just dumped three-quarters of a box of bath crystals into the tub.”

“Yeah, well, I want to be sure this works. The more-is-better theory.”

“Oh.” Blake tilted his head. “It does go against the grain of the less-is-more theory now, doesn’t it?”

She paid him scant attention. She was already stripping her clothes off.

“Blake. Take those clothes off, baby. I want to get home sometime today.” Impatience raised Alex’s voice to a mouse’s squeal.

She watched as he tore off his T-shirt, tossing it mindlessly. It landed in the bathroom sink. He fumbled with his belt, hastily unbuckling it. His fingers worked quickly to unsnap his jeans. Then he grabbed his zipper, tore the latch down, and wiggled out of them, his hips doing double time to help drop them down.

Next, he tore his underwear off. He was about to take a step into the tub when Alex said, “Focus, Blake, focus. Those socks gotta come off, too.”

“Oops. Haste makes waste.”

Nearly naked herself, she glanced just by chance at the tub. The faucet was still running and the water threatened to overflow at any moment. She quickly bent over to turn the water off. Bubbles covered everything, the water in the tub, and the floor underneath, and the area surrounding the old claw tub.

They stood there stark naked, looking at the tub, bubbles seemingly growing by the minute. Blake grabbed her hand and eased her into the tub, her weight displacing some of the water, causing it to spill out onto the floor. He then turned around to snatch the champagne and the two glasses.

“A glass for my fair lady.” She held the vessel while he poured. Then he climbed in. Pouring himself a glass, he placed the champagne bottle on the floor amid the soap bubbles.

“To home,” he toasted.

“To home. And love,” Alex squealed in return. They both gulped down the alcohol. Then Alex announced, “On the count of three—our new mantra, one, two, three: Calgary, take me away!”

Alex closed her eyes. Her muscles tightened in anticipation of the indescribable transformation she was about to experience going from the chapters of JJ’s love story back to the pages of her own.

A beat passed. She opened her eyes. Instead of the familiar setting of their own world, they were still in JJ’s tub.

“That’s okay.” Alex’s eyes filled with tears, her voice shaky—nearly cracking. But still she smiled. “Let’s try it again.”

Blake reached down, took the champagne bottle, and poured two more glasses of bubbly. Again, they toasted. “To home. To love.” And after they drank the champagne, they shouted the phrase. A little louder this time.

She closed her eyes once more and again her muscles tightened at the expectation of going home. She waited a moment, then opened her eyes. Nothing had happened. She and Blake were still in the tub. Still surrounded by what seemed to be acres of bubbles.

Even though the attempt failed, she brightened a bit. “Maybe we’re supposed to say it three times like in that one movie?”

“Right-O. Bloody good thinking.” Under stress, Blake’s English accent became more pronounced.

Blake poured even more champagne. “Oops. That’s the last of the bottle,” he said. They downed it quickly and began to chant—

An angry knock at the bathroom door interrupted them. “I wonder who that could be?” Blake asked. Alex giggled.

“Blake! Alex! What in blue blazes are you guys doing in there?” JJ said.

“Well,” Blake offered, “that answers the question of who’s at the door.” He hiccupped.

“I guess she came home early from her date,” Alex said, as she giggled.

JJ opened the door and stared at the pair.

“My floor! My bathroom floor is flooded with soapy water. What are you two trying to do now?”

She glanced at the box of Calgary bath crystals laying on its side. Then, her eyes lingered at the equally empty champagne bottle.

“Never mind. I can only imagine. I want both of you out of there right now, the floor dried and you guys dressed, for crying out loud!”

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