Honey on Your Mind (13 page)

I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating.

Where am I?

I sat up in bed. I was still fully dressed, still on top of the bedspread. I looked to my right. Jake was sleeping in the adjacent queen bed.

My throat was killing me, as was my head. I stood up and walked to the dresser to open a bottle of water. I tried to be quiet as I gulped it down, but Jake woke up.

“You OK?” he mumbled.

“I don’t feel well, Jake.” I walked over to his bed and sat down. “I’m so hot, and my throat hurts.”

He sat up and put his hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up.”

I looked at the clock between the beds. It was four in the morning.

“I fell asleep on you, didn’t I?”

He nodded. “You crashed a couple minutes after we got up here. You looked so tired that I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up.”

“I’m so sorry, Jake.”

He scratched the back of his head. “It’s OK. I grabbed dinner with some of the guys. I texted you and left you a note on the sink in case you wanted to come meet us, but when I came back you hadn’t moved.”

I pressed my palms against my cheeks. “I’m so hot. Did I already say that?” Everything seemed so fuzzy. I lay down on the bed next to him. “I’m so tired.”

He put his hand on my forehead again. “You definitely have a fever. Do you want to change out of your dress?”

Before I could answer him, I was asleep again.

• • •

I didn’t wake up until nearly one o’clock the next afternoon. I was drenched with sweat, and my throat was still killing me.

Jake wasn’t in the room. I sat up and held my head in my hands. It hurt to swallow. I stood up and wobbled into the bathroom, where Jake had left another note:

Hey, sick girl, I’m going to work out in the gym and grab the newspaper. Call or text when you get up, and I’ll bring you breakfast.

P. S. I turned your phone on silent so it wouldn’t wake you.

I held the paper to my heart.
What did I do to deserve this guy?

I stripped off my dress, splashed cold water on my face, and brushed my teeth. I wrapped a towel around my shoulders and walked over to my purse to check my phone. The display said I had eight voice mails.

Eight voice mails?

I sat on the bed in my bra and underwear and listened to my messages:

10:32 p.m.:
“Hey there, it’s Paige. I’m at the hotel dying to meet this Jake of yours. Are you back yet? Call me.”

10:58 p.m.:
“Hey, it’s Paige again. Where are you? I’m at the hotel bar feeling sort of like a loser sitting here by myself. OK, bye.”

11:17 p.m.:
“Hi again, I have to get out of here because way too many creepy old men are hitting on me. I really hope you’re OK! Call me in the morning. Promise? Bye.”

9:12 a.m.:
“Hi, Waverly, it’s me again. I’m at the airport. Are you OK? What happened to you last night? I’m a little worried, so please call me as soon as you can. Plus, we need to go over the order from Bella’s Boutique, which is so exciting! Enjoy the rest of your weekend with Jake. I really hope you’re OK.”

I couldn’t believe how nice Paige always was. I had totally blown her off, and she wasn’t even upset. Andie would have had my head if I’d stood her up like that.

I kept listening to the messages:

9:19 a.m.:
“Kitten, it’s Scotty. Please call me as soon as you get this. Thanks.”

10:11 a.m.:
“Hey, Waverly, it’s Kristina. Want to come over for dinner tonight? Give a shout. Hope you’re well.”

10:46 a.m.:
“Hi, Waverly, it’s, um, it’s Dad calling. Can you please give me a call when you can? I have some news. Thanks.”

12:42 p.m. from Andie: “
Hey, woman, it’s me. We’re on for the weekend of the nineteenth. Be scared. Bye!”

After I finished listening to all the messages, I put the phone down on the bed and followed with my head on the pillow.

Then I fell asleep again.

When I woke up it was dark outside. I was still in my bra and underwear, the towel half covering me. I sat up and held my head in my hands for a moment, then looked at the clock. It said 7:09 p.m.

Seven o’clock? Good lord. What is wrong with me?

Just then, Jake walked out of the bathroom. “Hey, sleepyhead, how are you feeling?”

I blinked a few times. “I can’t believe I’ve been out all day. I’m so sorry.” We both had morning flights to catch, so once again I’d cut our time together short.

He sat down on the bed and put his hand on my forehead, then my neck. “Your fever broke. How’s your throat?”

“Sore, but much better. My whole body is stiff. And I’m starving too.”

“I can only imagine. You’ve been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours.”

“I still can’t believe it’s already seven. I wanted to spend the day checking out Cleveland with you. Did you have fun? What did you do?”

“I sat here and watched you sleep, of course.”

I narrowed my eyes. “No you didn’t.”

He laughed. “OK, you’re right. I just chilled out at the hotel, mostly. After I worked out I showered at the gym so I wouldn’t wake you, and then took a cab downtown for lunch with a couple of the players who hadn’t left town yet.”

“How is downtown Cleveland? Is it fun?” Our hotel was about two miles away from anything resembling a “downtown.”

“It’s a huge party, actually. I’m drunk right now. Can you tell?”

I laughed. “Shut up. What else did you do?”

“After the guys took off for the airport I found a cushy chair in the lobby and finally finished reading that JFK biography, so all in all, it was a good day.”

“Haven’t you been reading that book for like four months?”

He nodded. “Yes, so thank you for getting deathly ill, which forced me to sit down and finish it.” He rumpled my hair,
which probably had enough oil in it to power the kitchen of a small restaurant.

“I’m so sorry for ruining our day, Jake. I think my body is trying to tell me something.”

“I think you’re right. Are you up for a shower and dinner? Or do you want to stay up here and order in? I’m perfectly happy to sit and watch you, as long as you stay in your underwear. Or better yet, out of your underwear.”

I laughed, then stood up slowly and wobbled over to my suitcase. “Shower, yes. Dinner, let’s see how I feel after the shower. Deal?”

“Deal. But I still like the idea of you out of your underwear.”

• • •

“What did your dad have to say?” Jake refilled my water glass and set the pitcher down on the table between us. The hotel restaurant was about as far as I could manage to go, but at least I was finally out of the room.

“I haven’t called him back yet. I haven’t called anyone back yet.” I sighed into my pasta. “I know if I’d called Scotty, I’d probably already be on a plane back to New York to cover some random event tomorrow morning, so I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Will he be upset?”

I nodded. “Maybe. Probably. But I was just too tired to deal.” I tried to smile. “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed right now, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“That’s not surprising. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends for months now.”

“I know, I know, but despite my complaining, I thought I could handle it. Now I’m not so sure. I mean, my body basically gave out on me last night. That’s sort of scary, Jake.”

“You just need to set some boundaries. You’re clearly being pulled in too many directions.”

I looked at him. “But
how
do I set boundaries? I mean, I’ve only been at
Love, Wendy
for a few months, and Waverly’s Honey Shop is just getting off the ground. I feel like I can’t say no to either, so what am I supposed to do?”

“Can you ask for help?”

“Help how?”

He scratched his eyebrow. “Help with Waverly’s Honey Shop, for example. It seems like you’re spending so much time on it, but aren’t there things you could have someone else do for you?”

I nodded. “I was thinking about that just yesterday, actually. In fact, I planned to talk to you about that last night. I totally forgot.” I pressed my hand against my forehead. “I think I’m really losing it.”

He laughed. “You’re not losing it. You just have too much on your plate right now. You’ll sort it out.”

I looked down at the nearly empty dish in front of me. “Speaking of plates, would you stop loving me if I ordered another of this yummy pasta? I’m still starving.”

“I might love you even more.”

I smiled and gestured toward our waiter.

• • •

I called my dad on the cab ride home from the airport the next afternoon.

“Hello?” My dad apparently still hadn’t figured out caller ID.

“Hi, Dad, it’s me. How are you?”

“Well, hello there, Waverly. It’s great to hear your voice all the way from the Big Apple.” I smiled into the phone and wondered
if
the Big Apple
was as grating to New Yorkers as
Frisco
and
San Fran
were to me. I made a mental note to do a segment about that for the show.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back yesterday. I’m sorry I haven’t called you in a while, actually.”

“Oh, don’t apologize, baby. I know you’re quite busy these days. Betty is just over the moon to see you on TV all the time. Did you know that
Love, Wendy
is now her favorite show?”

I closed my eyes and thanked the universe for bringing my dad Betty, his girlfriend of nearly a year. As far as I knew, she was the only woman he had dated since my mom died when I was just a toddler. It sounded so cliché, but since he’d met Betty, he was like a new person, someone I’d gone my whole childhood not knowing. Now his newfound happiness was on display for me and the world to see, and I was so grateful not to feel like I was the only person in his life who truly cared about him. That’s a lot of weight for an only child to carry.

“I didn’t know that, Dad. Please tell her I said hi. How is she?”

“Actually, she’s why I called you.”

My heart dropped.
Oh my God. She broke up with him. She’s hurt. She’s dying.

“What’s wrong?” I took a huge breath and held it.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong, baby. In fact…it’s the opposite. We’re getting married.”

I exhaled and smiled…a huge smile. “You’re getting
married
?” A few tears swelled in the corner of my eyes.

“Yes, can you believe it? I asked her, and she said yes.
I
really can’t believe it.” I sensed something in his voice I’d never heard before.

It was pure…joy.

“That’s wonderful, Dad. I’m so happy for you!”

“I’m just thrilled, baby. I’m still amazed she said yes.”

“Come on, you know she loves you.”

He chuckled. “I know, I know. I’m just so incredibly lucky to have met her. I never thought I’d find someone who would love me as much as your mother did.”

As soon as he said that, I started crying. They were small tears, but it was hard to speak normally, so I didn’t reply.
What is wrong with me?

“Are you OK, baby?” He sounded nervous. I don’t think I’d ever cried in front of my dad.

“I’m fine, Dad. I’m just happy for you, that’s all.”

“It took awhile, but I found her, Waverly. Your old man found her.”

I wiped a few tears from my eyes and looked at the cab driver, who smiled at me in the rearview mirror. I smiled back at him. “So when’s the wedding?”

“We’re thinking Valentine’s Day. Will that work for you?”

Valentine’s Day? I swallowed a laugh.
Ah, Dad
. “Can you give me a day to check that I don’t have to work?” I hated myself for having to say that. Who has to check to see if she can attend her own father’s wedding?

“Of course, of course. I know that TV show isn’t going to stop for me, so you do what you have to do. Were you planning to come home for Christmas?”

“Christmas is sort of the same deal. I’m sorry, Dad. I just need to check with the producer before making any decisions around holidays. As I’m rapidly learning, that’s sort of the way it goes with TV.” After the year I’d spent freelancing for the
San Francisco Sun
, not being in charge of my own schedule was starting to get to me. I thought I would probably have Christmas free but knew for a fact I was going to have to work on New Year’s Eve,
given how New Year’s resolutions are on practically
everyone’s
mind that day.

“It’s fine, baby, really. I understand. You just let me know, OK?”

“I will, I promise. Congratulations, Dad. I’m so happy for both of you.”

I looked at the cab driver again and wondered what he was thinking of me now.

Before I knew it, December had arrived, and the holiday party was just days away. After my minor breakdown in Cleveland, I tried to put the brakes on a bit, but it wasn’t easy. To my relief, Paige agreed to manage all sales and operations for Waverly’s Honey Shop, officially beginning in January. She would work without a salary in exchange for a significant commission. Knowing she’d soon be on board full-time reduced my stress—no more trade shows on weekends or regular trips to the post office!—but any time that was freed up in my schedule was quickly swallowed up by the growing popularity of
Love, Wendy
, which meant more work for all of us.