Writing A Wrong (Write Stuff 2)

"That's cute. If I was home I'd be stuck shoveling a path to my car and then scraping the windshield while I waited for it to warm up. It's so much more enjoyable this way." She propped up her feet on the coffee table in front of us. "How you doing, hon?" she asked, taking another sip from her steaming mug.

I turned away from the window to look at her. "I'm fine."

"You don't look it, sweetie," she said, patting my hand.

"Gee, thanks," I threw out lamely. "Nothing like being told you look like crap."

"That's not what I mean. You're still your usual cute-as-a-button self. I'm talking about what's underneath. It's obvious something is bothering you," she said with concern.

I grimaced. Nothing like waving my feelings around like some freak flag. I tried to be careful, not wanting to be the Debbie Downer of the tour. "I thought I was doing a better job of hiding it," I sighed, slumping back in my chair.

"Oh honey. Anything short of you being your normal bubbly self is a sure-fire sign. It's one of the things I love the most about you. You're always like a ray of light for all of us with dark souls."

I snorted. "It's been a curse my whole life. I need to work on being dark and brooding. That way I can disguise my feelings."

"Why don't you share those feelings, and I'll be the judge of whether they're stupid? It can't be good bottling everything up."

I pulled on my lip, debating whether I was ready to release the lid on Pandora's box. Keeping everything trapped inside had become my norm the past couple weeks. In a few days the bus tour side of the trip would be over and I could move on to the final leg of my appearance schedule. Greg would be returning to New York with the Love Bus, and the rest of us would be flying off to our next destinations. And in a month, I'd finally be home. I could power through this.

"I'm a great listener," she persisted.

Her insistence was all the urging I needed. Everything I had kept buried for two weeks tumbled out of me like a tumbleweed blowing across the desert. I felt a twinge of guilt for unloading on Michelle, but there was no denying that each word that left my lips made me feel lighter.

She waited until I was completely drained of words before giving her two cents. "I knew something must have happened between you and Greg. He's been sulking around watching you like a lovesick puppy."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. In my vain attempt to ignore him, I made a point to avoid even looking at him or engaging him in conversation unless absolutely necessary.

"Honey, it's not your fault that boy wants to take a dip in your well," she teased.

"That's just wrong," I muttered, looking up at her sparkling eyes. "I feel so bad for leading him on."

She laughed, winking at me. "I think you're beating yourself up too much. Your personality is a magnet. You're funny, down to earth, and probably the easiest person on the planet to talk to. You can't blame the boy for getting a little smitten. You're easy to love. As for your beau back home, anyone with eyes can tell he's crazy about you. I'd give him the benefit of the doubt anytime your thoughts want to play tricks on you. I know this trip hasn't been a

s fun as you expected. I would feel the same way if the Love Bus made me as sick as it does you. Plus, you haven't been able to get as much writing done as the rest of us have. For the rest of the trip, I'm putting my laptop away so we can chat more."

I flushed, feeling bad she felt that was necessary. It wasn't her job to entertain me. "You don't have to do that. We only have a few days to go, and there's no reason to stop if you're on a roll."

She shook her head. "I want to. Truthfully, I haven't been overly happy with anything I've written in days. I'm just upset I didn't close it down sooner. I've been missing hanging out with you, and to think, the fix has been in front of my face the whole time."

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. For the first time in weeks I was in a better place. I still couldn't help feeling partially responsible for the Greg situation, but my insecurity over Alec was exactly that—my insecure feelings.

"How about we join the others in the bar for something a little stronger?" She shivered as someone walked into the lobby from outside, bringing a gust of cold air with them. When the weather people said blustery, they weren't kidding. I made the mistake of thinking a walk around the lake with the snow falling around me would be nice, but I lasted about ten seconds. The damp wind felt like shards of glass. I half expected my skin to fall off in shreds.

I looked toward the bar, considering Michelle's offer.

"Don't worry. Greg is nowhere in sight," she said, taking my hand to pull me up with her.

"Okay, let me call Alec real quick," I said, pulling my phone out of my bag.

"Tell that hunk I said hi. See you in a few." She waved over her shoulder as she walked toward the hotel bar.

I pulled up Alec's number from the top of my recent calls list.

Expecting to hear his warm familiar greeting, I was surprised when a tiny female voice answered instead. "Hello," she squeaked.

"Lily?"

"Yes," she answered, probably wondering how the person on the other line knew her name.