It sounds like it should be the title of an The Americans episode, and could be some day, but it’s really all about my kids and their relaxation by the pond. Not the Amy Pond, which would probably follow them home if they asked it to come along, but the Pearl Hill one, which is going to stay right where it is for a few thousand more years, I’d expect.
Last night I managed almost as much writing in two hours as I had in the last two days. Then again, it was Wednesday, which is my normal writing night, and thought I wasn’t at Panera–I stayed home due to the weather–I managed to get out the words. Because it’s Wednesday, and I should have been wearing pink. Perhaps.
This scene has probably went through more gyrations in the last three days any just about any other. I started out wanting to write one thing, then began to drift off in another directions towards another line of thought, and finally ended up with the thirteen hundred words I did last night. And what did my kids talk about? A little bit of everything, as you’ll see. That’s how writing is some days: you think you’re going one way, and you sort of end up the other.
Let’s pick up where we were yesterday . . .
All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
Right now it was streaming Annie’s favorite music channel with the volume set where it could be heard without being overwhelming. She looked down at the display. “I knew your birthday present would come in handy one day.” She chuckled while snuggling back into Kerry’s arms.
He glanced down at the tablet and smiled. “It came in handy on the way out here—navigation and music, all in one.”
“You didn’t need it to get us out here.”
“But it was nice being able to fly to Wind and Wuthering.”
Annie grinned as she remembered back to the beginning of their flight where Kerry asked if he could play one of his favorite pieces, and once it started there was the strange orchestral sound at the beginning of the first song—he said it came from a mellotron, similar to the one Professor Ellison played for them that first week in the Auditorium’s Keyboard Room—seemed to set their mood as they floated away from Cape Ann on their way to Ipswich. The album was also long enough that it played nearly the entire way to Pearl Hill. “It was nice.” She squeezed his hands close to her heart. “So nice.”
Kerry finally dipped into his old classic songs, and what Annie heard was this:
Not only one of Kerry’s favorite pieces, by mine as well, and I still remember hearing this on the radio when I was a teenager. But we’re not talking abut me, we’re talking about the kids, and there is something on their minds.
He sighed and stared off across the still water of the pond. “Are you thinking about next week at all?”
Annie slowly closed her eyes and paused her thoughts for a moment before answering. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”
“Me, too.” He once more rested his head against hers. “This time next week we’ll be at our own homes.”
“I would invite you home, but I don’t think I could keep you hidden forever in the lake house.” She chuckled. “Mama would know anyway, and she’d tell my father. And your parents would wonder where you went.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Kerry didn’t want to bring up his home life, so he pushed that aside. “Are we going to be able to keep in touch?”
“I’m sure we will.” The subject came up in the last Madness Friday night, and she mentioned that she didn’t own either a mobile or a computer, and she wasn’t certain she could get the use of her mother’s laptop to be able to speak with Kerry over the Internet. “I do believe my mother would object if I bought a computer and then spent all day long using it to speak to you.”
“We wouldn’t do that.”
“Really?” She looked up and back, finding it difficult not to laugh. “You know we would, love. It’s all we do now when we have free time.” She rolled her shoulders, getting settled. “And free time is all we’ll have during summer holiday.”
There have been questions about Annie having access to devices that would connect her to Kerry during the summer, but I think, once the next novel in this line comes up–What? I’m talking about more novels?–it’ll be easy to see why Annie isn’t getting to computers and phones and the such. Part of the issues right now is that Annie isn’t in control of her money, so she has to go through her parents to get something that’s big ticket. And that might not always be easy–or wanted. Then again, you never know. One day she’ll have her own computer and she can chat up Kerry all she wants . . .
Stop it, Annie.
And the funniest things happen when they’re not talking about being home for summer–
The quiet once more settled over the shore as they sat and enjoyed their closeness. Annie stretched out her legs and began rhythmical tapping her feet together as she leaned back into her soul mate. “I could stay here all day.”
“And we just might.” Kerry chuckled. “Not like you can hike in sandals.”
“I’m not in a hiking mood; we do enough walking at school. And I like wearing sandals when it gets warm: I love the feel of the air on my bare feet.” She patted his thigh. “I should get you a pair.”
“I’m not a sandals sort of guy.” He shook his head. “I have ugly feet.”
“I can give you a pedicure—”
Kerry gently messed Annie’s hair. “Get out of here.” He laughed, pulled her back in his arms, and gave her a long, soft, comforting kiss. “You’re not doing my nails.”
“There’s more to it than just polishing your nails.” She reached up and kiss his nose. “I’ll show you one day.”
“I’m sure you will.” He stared into her eyes, relaxing into her gaze. “When would be the soonest we could get married?”
Okay, Kerry: where did that come from? First you’re talking about Annie’s choice of footwear–and she does usually wear only sandals during the summer, and switches over once the weather changes–to laughing about pedicures–and get one Kerry, they’re totally nice–to “When can we get married?” Yeah, even Annie didn’t see this coming . . .
Annie’s eyes widened in shock; this was the last question she expected. “Are you serious?”
Kerry nodded. “I’ve been thinking about our vision when I go to bed—”
“We said we wouldn’t.”
“I know, but—” He shrugged once. “Can’t help it. I remember how we looked in it and I wondered just how young we were . . .” He averted his gaze for a moment. “It’s why I ask.”
Annie rested against Kerry’s leg, propping herself upon her elbow. “Age of Emancipation is eighteen. That way you get six years of school and one year of Life Experience out of the way before you take your place in The Foundation, or go back to school if you’re invited into a Continuing Education Program.” She rolled on to her back, using Kerry’s thigh as a pillow. “It would have to come after you turn eighteen, which means it would be the summer after our Life Experience year together.”
Kerry immediately picked up on the Annie’s last word. “We’ll do it together?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.”
He lightly traced circles on Annie’s forehead and in her hair. “You think that’s when the vision happened?”
“I know it does. I have it written in my book that I want a June wedding.” She folded her hands across her stomach. “Right before summer begins. And given how we looked in the vision, I’d said that it probably happens the June after you turn eighteen.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “I wouldn’t want to wait.”
Kerry nodded slowly. “I don’t think I’d want to either.”
Kids talk about the damnedest things, but this is one for the books–or at least this book–and it even surprises Annie. One at least discovers that she’s thinking to the year they spend after graduation from Salem, when they’re allowed to “walk the Earth”, more or less, and experience new things. Kerry isn’t thinking about that, at least not directly. And he does find out that, yes, Annie expects them to spend that year together, and that she knows the time of year when her wedding will take place.
It would seem that Kerry can’t get the maybe pending nuptials out of his head. After all, it’s been a strange year: you find out you’re a witch, that you do magic, that you’re also a sorceress, that you have to defend your school and fight monsters and kill bad guys, that you get sent out to fight more bad guys, and you rediscover your lost love who was always right in front of you and whom you’d fallen in love with again. And that you’re getting married to her, because you both had a vision.
Pretty normal for this joint, but strange outside the walls.
A slight smile began to spread across Annie’s face. “We aren’t suppose to talk about this—”
“I know: the more you try to make a vision happen, the less likely it will.”
“And we’re talking about something that won’t happen for six years at the soonest.”
Kerry looked up and sighed. “I know.”
“That doesn’t keep me from thinking about us there, either.” She kissed the index and middle fingers of her right hand, then lightly pressed them against Kerry’s lips. “Obicham te, moya spŭtnik.”
Kerry did the same to Annie with his left hand. “Obicham te, moya spŭtnik.” He allowed his fingers to linger upon her face. “One day we won’t be apart when summer comes.”
“No.” Annie’s smile broadened. “We won’t.”
And ending it that way, with hope, was a lot better than ending it with depression over not being able to see each other.
Because . . . that’s still coming.
It can’t be avoided.