Chapter 25
“How’s the honeymoon?” I ask, and Maggie’s laughter travels over the phone.
“Not quite a honeymoon anymore.”
I wince. “Sorry. I meant the trip.”
Jacob sends me a quick smile over his shoulder before turning back to the eggs on the stove.
“Nothing to worry about,” Maggie says. “It basically is our honeymoon, but I’m going to take the excuse to have another one. Which should be soon.”
Jacob and I exchange a glance.
He opens his mouth, but I raise a hand, stopping him.
I’m chopping some fruit to go with our breakfast, so I’ve left the call on speakerphone, but we haven’t told my father or Maggie that the two of us are staying together.
They’d have questions if they heard Jacob talking now, and I’m not sure I could come up with a believable excuse as to why we’re at the same place at—I glance over at the clock—eight in the morning.
We’ve been hibernating at Jacob’s flat for three days, and we’ve fallen into an easy routine.
He makes breakfast while I assist. Then he sits at his desk, and I settle on the couch with a blanket around me and my computer on my lap.
He’ll shuffle papers, frown, look at his phone, and then move to his laptop, and I’ll barely hear him, zoned out as I research similar shows and fine-tune the pitch.
At some point, we’ll stretch and take a break for lunch, or sometimes I’ll get up and make tea.
After we’re done with work, we go on a walk, or stay on the couch if it’s raining (which it has been most of the time so far), and it’s cozy and lovely, sharing dinner with him, talking about the things we’re working on.
Watching more of Love in the Sun, and then switching it off to discover more about each other.
Like how Jacob is ticklish beneath his ribs, and that there’s a spot on the side of his neck that sets him aflame.
And he’s learned just how far my being-told-what-to-do thing goes, and turns out…well, it goes quite a long way.
My face heats as I remember last night, Jacob lifting my hands to the headboard, telling me not to move.
“Neelu? Are you still there?”
I blink. “Yes, Maggie. Still here.”
Jacob sends me a curious glance, then turns off the flame.
He grabs a couple plates from a cabinet, and I clear my throat. “So, you’re planning to reschedule the wedding, then?”
“Oh, well, nothing’s planned. But we want to do it sometime soon. Before you go back. Something smaller, this time. Though I know we don’t have enough time to really plan it, so maybe we won’t be able to make it work. All the vendors are in Aberdeen, and we’re still here, so—”
I look over at Jacob. “We could do it,” I say.
His brows rise.
“We?” Maggie asks.
“Uhh, Jacob and I. Since we’re both here. In Aberdeen. I’d have to ask him, of course.”
Jacob’s face flickers with amusement.
“But I’ve planned weddings on tighter timelines than this. We’ve thrown together all kinds of things on the show. How small are you thinking?”
“Small,” she says. “Really small. We don’t really want to invite anyone this time, or redo the whole thing. We talked about eloping while we’re here in Skye, but we wanted both of you to be there. You and Jacob.”
“Are you sure? I can handle a larger guest list. And do you want to do it at the same church again or do you have another venue you want?”
“No. Nothing like that. We’ll use the same officiant. I can call and tell him, but I want to do it somewhere close this time. Something relaxed, like a park. And maybe the four of us can go get dinner afterward.”
“Yeah,” I say. Jacob smiles, his head dipping in a nod. “We can make it happen,” I continue. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
I hear my father in the background, his voice low.
“One second,” Maggie says. “Your dad wants to talk to you.”
The line’s quiet as the phone changes hands.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Neelu.” A beat. “I’m…I’m glad you’re spending more time in Aberdeen.” Another pause. “It’ll be nice to see you when we get back. Maggie and I were thinking, after we all meet for the interview, maybe we could all have dinner. Before the wedding.”
“Yeah,” I say. “That would be nice.”
I talked to both of them a couple days ago, explaining that I was postponing my trip back so I could do some research for some work stuff.
I asked them if they’d be willing to be interviewed as part of my research for a new show.
They were both excited about it, asking questions, but I kept it simple.
I just told them that my time in Scotland had provided a lot of inspiration, and their love story had helped me come up with the premise.
Maggie continued chattering, but my father went quiet at that.
I wasn’t sure if he was upset about that, about me pulling something from his life, but he sent me a text message later.
Short and simple, stating, Looking forward to the interview and See you soon.
It was the kind of nondescript message I’d received from him before, the kind I used to only acknowledge with a passive-aggressive thumbs-up, but this time I replied with a Me too, and he surprised me by hearting the message.
I didn’t even know he knew how to do that.
“Jacob will be there too,” my dad says, and I look over at Jacob across the kitchen. He’s sliding the eggs onto a plate, his brows raised.
“I haven’t asked him yet,” my dad continues, “but I’m sure he’ll be there.” My dad pauses. “If that’s all right with you.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m okay with that.”
Jacob grins.
After we hang up, he walks over to me, taking the knife out of my hand and laying it on the cutting board.
“You’re okay with that?” he asks. “Just okay?”
“I mean,” I say as his arms come around me, as he pulls me to his chest, “I guess I don’t mind spending time in your company.”
He growls, leaning down to kiss me, and a laugh bubbles out of my mouth.
We spend the rest of the morning on the kitchen counter, and then the bedroom, our breakfast growing cold.
—
“So, congratulations on the move to Scotland.”
“I have not moved to Scotland.”
Natalie scoffs, the sound echoing over the phone. “Sure sounds like it. Every time I hear from you it’s I’m spending an extra day here. Actually, two more extra days. And now it’s two weeks?”
“I—Do I need to get back for anything? For the show?”
“No. It’s not that. We’re on track for next season.” Natalie finally decided on a location. Australia. We’ve never filmed there before. “And I know you’re getting work done. I saw the preliminary pitch deck. It’s—”
“It’s not done,” I say. “I’m going to add some footage to it. Try to provide more of an idea, an example of what the show could look like.”
“Great, but I was going to say it looks good. Fresh. I could…I could see us selling this.”
“Really?”
“Really. Maybe not to our network, but we could sell it to a network. I’ve got the development deal, though, so they’d get first look. That is, if you want to try to do this together—”
“I do.”
“All right. Let’s get it in shape, then. Send me the footage when you have it, and…I mean, we’re both contracted for the next season, but we can try to pitch it after. Before new contracts get passed around.”
One more season. This could be my last season working on Love in the Sun. It feels bittersweet.
“I’ll do that,” I say. “I’m filming it tomorrow, and then I’ll need a day or so to edit, but you’ll get it soon.”
“Great.” Natalie pauses. “I’m glad you’re doing this. This trip. I think it’s been good for you.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice growing higher, the word coming out as a question.
Because Natalie and I have always been friendly.
We’ve worked together for ages, but during the offseason…
we usually only email and text. We’re closer during filming—everyone is.
It’s an atmosphere like summer camp. We live and work in close proximity, spend late nights editing, solve last-minute emergencies.
But, also like campers, when it’s time to leave we say our goodbyes, only reuniting when it’s time to film again.
Though I wonder if things would be different if I made more of an effort to keep in touch. I invited Natalie to my promotion dinner thinking she wouldn’t come, but she ended up being the only one of my friends to make it. Maybe…
“Let’s grab lunch or something,” I say. “When I’m back.”
“Sure. To talk about the pitch?”
“Yes, but also…it’d be nice to catch up.”
She’s silent for a moment, and I twist my fingers in the blanket on my lap.
When’s the last time I asked a friend to hang out?
I tried to get everyone together for my promotion dinner, but they all had last-minute emergencies, and it…
stung. But I can’t remember the last time I hung out with any of them before or after that.
We used to carve out time for one another, even with my strange travel schedule, but after they got married and started having children, things changed.
The number of texts I got from them started decreasing, and the calls became less frequent, but it’s been sort of… mutual, to an extent.
Once I felt them pull back, I did the same.
“I’d love to,” Natalie says. “Let’s pick a date.” We pull up our calendars, find a free day for both of us, and pencil it in. And after we talk through some other things, after we hang up, I’m stunned by how simple it was.
I stare at my phone, then pull up the contact for Tara, my old college roommate. I hesitate for a second, seeing the last text she sent me, the night of my promotion dinner.
Davey’s throwing up all over the place. Sorry, girl, can’t make it.
I hesitate, then start typing. Out of the country right now, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Can we get lunch in a couple weeks?
Twenty minutes later, when I’ve gone back to work, my eyes glazing over as I stare at my computer screen, I hear a ping.
Yes!! Please!!! I’ve missed you! I could do any Tuesday? And I can bring Davey? Or get a sitter??
I smile.
It’ll be different from how it used to be. And I don’t know. Maybe our friendship has run its course, but her quick response makes me think there’s something there worth saving. Something worth working for a little more.
I tap out a response, telling her either option would be great.