all be worth it once you get to hold that baby in your arms. Trust me, I have five kids.”
“Wow,” is the only thing I can think of to say. She walks with me back to our lane, telling me stories of her pregnancies. She doesn’t make a single comment about how young I look and when I introduce Jace as my husband, she just shakes his hand and gives him some pointers for dealing with me when I go into labor.
“I like her,” I say as she walks back to her lane.
“I can see why,” Jace says. “That’s like the first older person who hasn’t lectured us on our life choices. Besides our parents, at least.”
I nudge him in the ribs. “Not that it matters what people think, right?”
He kisses me on the forehead. “Right.”
Chapter 10
Since our sleep schedule is all kinds of weird, I wake up at four in the morning the next day. Not so surprisingly, Jace is awake too. He’s watching some show on the hotel’s television that’s about fixing up old cars. I roll over, snuggling up in our plush hotel comforter and rest my head on his shoulder.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I smile at Jace’s greeting but don’t say anything back due to a massive fear of having morning breath. He holds out a half-eaten Snickers bar. “Want some?”
I lean over and take a bite. As if on cue, Jace knows that the last thing I want to watch is a car mechanic show, so he begins flipping through the channels for something else to watch. Of course, being four in the morning, there’s not much on.
“Pretty Woman!” I grab his hand to stop him from scanning channels because the greatest movie ever just appeared on the screen. “Pretty Woman, yes or no?” I ask him, giving my best version of puppy eyes. “Yes?” I nudge him with my elbow. “Yes?”
“If that’s what you want,” Jace says, rolling his eyes.
Becca and I used to watch this movie all the time because it was one of the only VHS tapes that Mom and I owned when I finally got a TV in my room. I was twelve when Mom found a small TV with a built in VHS player at a garage sale for ten dollars. It was on that glorious day that I finally got a TV in my room. But we didn’t have cable, so we had to watch movies. This is where the dusty old Pretty Woman tape became our Friday night movie.
Now that I look back on it, a movie about a prostitute probably isn’t good for twelve year olds to watch. But I didn’t care about the first part of it. I loved when Richard Gere’s character started falling in love with her, taking her places and making her feel special. That’s what kept me coming back to watch it again and again.
“So where do we want to go next?” Jace asks, but it’s during the part in the movie where Julia Roberts goes shopping for nice clothes and the sales ladies are total bitches to her, so I don’t hear him. He asks again, this time waving his hand in front of my face. “Or do you want to stay here watching this movie you’ve seen a million times?”
I snap out of the movie’s allure, and turn to Jace. “Where do you want to go?” I ask. He shrugs. “Anywhere with you.”
“Oh, ha.” I lean forward and kiss him. “Now’s the time for making decisions, not for being romantic.”
Jace’s eyes drift off as he tries to think of a place to visit next, and I do the same thing. “Well, most of our trips have revolved around eating,” I say with a snort. “Let’s go to some famous restaurant or something, or—” My eyes light up and I sit up straight in bed, knocking Jace’s arm off my shoulder. “I’ve got it!”
In the movie Pretty Woman, Richard Gere’s character takes her on a dinner date by private jet. They get all dressed up and then fly across the country, have dinner, then fly back to their hotel. I’d always thought the whole thing was flashy as hell—I mean, who has money to take a private jet around as if it were a taxi?—and that was also what made it so special. He cared about her enough to do something so
“Wow,” is the only thing I can think of to say. She walks with me back to our lane, telling me stories of her pregnancies. She doesn’t make a single comment about how young I look and when I introduce Jace as my husband, she just shakes his hand and gives him some pointers for dealing with me when I go into labor.
“I like her,” I say as she walks back to her lane.
“I can see why,” Jace says. “That’s like the first older person who hasn’t lectured us on our life choices. Besides our parents, at least.”
I nudge him in the ribs. “Not that it matters what people think, right?”
He kisses me on the forehead. “Right.”
Chapter 10
Since our sleep schedule is all kinds of weird, I wake up at four in the morning the next day. Not so surprisingly, Jace is awake too. He’s watching some show on the hotel’s television that’s about fixing up old cars. I roll over, snuggling up in our plush hotel comforter and rest my head on his shoulder.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I smile at Jace’s greeting but don’t say anything back due to a massive fear of having morning breath. He holds out a half-eaten Snickers bar. “Want some?”
I lean over and take a bite. As if on cue, Jace knows that the last thing I want to watch is a car mechanic show, so he begins flipping through the channels for something else to watch. Of course, being four in the morning, there’s not much on.
“Pretty Woman!” I grab his hand to stop him from scanning channels because the greatest movie ever just appeared on the screen. “Pretty Woman, yes or no?” I ask him, giving my best version of puppy eyes. “Yes?” I nudge him with my elbow. “Yes?”
“If that’s what you want,” Jace says, rolling his eyes.
Becca and I used to watch this movie all the time because it was one of the only VHS tapes that Mom and I owned when I finally got a TV in my room. I was twelve when Mom found a small TV with a built in VHS player at a garage sale for ten dollars. It was on that glorious day that I finally got a TV in my room. But we didn’t have cable, so we had to watch movies. This is where the dusty old Pretty Woman tape became our Friday night movie.
Now that I look back on it, a movie about a prostitute probably isn’t good for twelve year olds to watch. But I didn’t care about the first part of it. I loved when Richard Gere’s character started falling in love with her, taking her places and making her feel special. That’s what kept me coming back to watch it again and again.
“So where do we want to go next?” Jace asks, but it’s during the part in the movie where Julia Roberts goes shopping for nice clothes and the sales ladies are total bitches to her, so I don’t hear him. He asks again, this time waving his hand in front of my face. “Or do you want to stay here watching this movie you’ve seen a million times?”
I snap out of the movie’s allure, and turn to Jace. “Where do you want to go?” I ask. He shrugs. “Anywhere with you.”
“Oh, ha.” I lean forward and kiss him. “Now’s the time for making decisions, not for being romantic.”
Jace’s eyes drift off as he tries to think of a place to visit next, and I do the same thing. “Well, most of our trips have revolved around eating,” I say with a snort. “Let’s go to some famous restaurant or something, or—” My eyes light up and I sit up straight in bed, knocking Jace’s arm off my shoulder. “I’ve got it!”
In the movie Pretty Woman, Richard Gere’s character takes her on a dinner date by private jet. They get all dressed up and then fly across the country, have dinner, then fly back to their hotel. I’d always thought the whole thing was flashy as hell—I mean, who has money to take a private jet around as if it were a taxi?—and that was also what made it so special. He cared about her enough to do something so
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