Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)(87)
Cami and Aurora said Halle says the same thing to them, which makes me want to do something extra special for her. And the good thing about Aurora is that she loves interfering in making plans.
I’m about to find my tablet to continue with Halle’s gift when I hear my name being yelled from downstairs.
“What?” I shout down in response.
“Halle is calling you. Take your phone off do not disturb!” Russ calls back.
Oh shit. Six missed calls.
“Sorry! Ringer is off,” I say when Halle answers my call. “What’s up?”
“Is my laptop charger at your house?” she says frantically.
Looking around my room, I spot it on the floor beside the slippers she left here. “Yeah.”
“I’m on such a roll with this chapter and my laptop is going to die. I’m going to forget everything I want to write. Oh my God, I can’t believe I left without it! What was I thinking?” she says. I can hear her rummaging around on the other end of the line. “Can you bring it over, please? I’d come get it, but I need to get this out of my head.”
“I’m on my way,” I say, silently proud of her for asking. “I’ll be quick. Don’t forget anything.”
“Hurry!” she yells as I grab a sweatshirt and put the charger in the pocket.
Russ lets me borrow his truck so I don’t have to jog over there, and it’s another reminder that I really need to get my own car at some point. Looking at cars is boring, and every time I try to pick one I end up distracted.
It only takes ten minutes from leaving the house to pulling into Halle’s driveway, and when I walk through the door she constantly leaves unlocked when she shouldn’t, she’s lying on her living room floor surrounded by sheets of lined paper covered in a more frantic version of her neat handwriting.
“Laptop died!” she says, tearing the paper from the pad and tossing it onto the growing pile. “Can’t talk.”
I don’t say a word as I plug the charger into the socket and connect it to her laptop. Picking up Joy, who’s wandering dangerously close to Halle’s pile of papers, I tuck her under my arm as I walk around the kitchen, putting snacks onto a plate and grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
I put them on the floor beside where Halle is lying and drop myself into the chair with Joy.
It’s fascinating watching her process be so raw. Normally when she writes it consists of her groaning at her laptop or being so into it she zones out and doesn’t hear me talking to her. When I remember to ask her how the book is going, she changes the subject quickly or ignores it if what she’s done is good.
Joy is purring on the center of my chest while I watch Halle throw her pen down and lie against her forearms. “Hi.”
“Hello. I plugged in your laptop.”
Lifting her head, she looks at all the pieces of paper scattered around her. “I was scared I’d lose the scene.”
Moving Joy to my side, I hold open my arm. “Come tell me about it.”
Halle climbs from the floor and shuffles over to my lap, maneuvering her legs over the arm of the chair. “I don’t really know what to tell you. It probably won’t make any sense when I read it back.”
“Tell me anything. I like listening to you talk.”
I run my hand up and down Halle’s shin as she tries to work out where to start. “I’m trying to finish the second act, but because my twist is that she’s marrying someone else, I’ve been writing their relationship basically not knowing who she’s going to marry instead.”
“Still rooting for my guy, but go on.”
“And then I was like, he’s standing at the front of the church, and why would your ex be at your wedding for starters—great plot hole, Halle—but why would he be at the front? Then I realized what if she was marrying someone he knows, like his best friend?”
I don’t like where this is going, but she’s so excited I don’t want to stop her. “And it got me thinking about how when Will and I broke up he kept all the friends, but what if they broke up but she kept the friend? His best friend. Or they grew closer because they both wanted something more from this same person, and the thing that was missing brought them peace with each other as they both grieved what could have been romantically and platoni-cally?”
“So that’s what you’ve been writing? Her and his friend?”
“Kinda. Starting to set it up anyway. The thing I keep thinking is, what is the price of love? And how much is too much? At what point do you look at the choices you’re making and decide the price is too high? How much should we sacrifice for someone we care about?” She’s glowing, and I can’t stop watching her. “I’m approaching this last act, and I honestly have no idea what’s going to happen, so I just wanted to get all my thoughts down while I could before writer’s block could hit me.” She cups my face with her palm and kisses me gently. “Thank you for coming over so quickly.”
“When did you know you wanted to be an author?” I ask. I can’t believe I’ve never asked her before.
“When I was about six or seven. My mom took me to a kids’ event at the library where the author was doing a reading, and I just thought it was so exciting and special. I can’t even remember who the author was, but everyone was hanging on her every word, and I decided I wanted to do that.”