So Facebookers and Tweeps probably saw my happiness two days ago when I finally had a breakthrough with the “Castaway” story climax. It’s no surprise that I am a pantser when it comes to writing; I don’t always know my ending until I’m almost there in the writing process. For “Castaway”, I knew how I wanted the end of the relationship to go, but hadn’t figured out what the plot ending would entail.
Now that it’s decided, I feel much better. While I’m not much of a plotter as I hate writing a story “twice”, it’s sometimes to know what direction I’m going. And, yes, sometimes and outline is the only thing that gets me out of a writing slump.
Anyway. 😉 It’s Saturday once again and this week went by fast! Nephews and diapers and house cleaning and entertainment to wear out a two-year-old, and somewhere in there I’ve found some writing time. Let me tell you, I now have the UTMOST RESPECT for women writers who do this career as a full time mother!!
So without further ado, here is this week’s snippet. Enjoy!!
“I don’t trust them.”
Above me, Jeremiah was scowling into the darkness. “Maybe not,” I murmured, running a hand along his shoulder in a soothing gesture, “but what choice do we have?”
Beneath me he was as hard as a rock, every muscle tight. Inside his body was a caged bull, searching for something, someone, to charge. At the moment however, no enemy was in sight, and unknown dangers lurked in the darkness. He was practically vibrating from the tension, holding himself back. As I ran my hand through his hair, I felt some of that tension lessen. He looked down at me, then reached out and cupped my cheek with one hand. “I never would have hit you.”
The abrupt change in subject confused me. I leaned away and stared up at him. “I know that.” There were things I’d been afraid he’d do, but lay a hand on me was never a consideration.
“When we were at the hotel, when I reached for you and you flinched away.” He broke off and looked out into the darkness. “My father…”
Any sentence prefaced with those two words, given what little I knew about the family, never boded well. As gently as I could, I grabbed his chin and turned his face to me. The scowl was gone, but even in the dim light I could see the pain shining in his eyes. “Not once when we fought did I ever believe you would hurt me.”
My words didn’t seem to have much effect. “I could have,” he murmured. “It would have been so easy.”
“But you didn’t.” The vehemence in my voice finally got his attention. “You hurt me with your words, yes, but you were entitled to your pain. Even if you had carried out on your threats…” I pursed my lips, realizing my wounds were too raw for me. The memory of his words still hurt, and I would have to deal with it eventually. “We both made mistakes, and forgiveness won’t happen overnight.”
“Jeremiah.” I pulled his head sideways again, making sure we were eye to eye. “I don’t know the specifics of your family life growing up, but I know the man you are now.” Using the crutches, I hobbled around until we were standing face to face, and then entwined my arms around his neck. Jeremiah was watching me silently, but I knew I had his rapt attention. Inexplicably, tears formed in my eyes and I blinked them away as I continued. “You’re incredible, and despite everything we’ve been through I’m so glad you were put in my life.”
The silence stretched between us, but I didn’t look away from his eyes. They glowed in the faint light, and while I couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head I didn’t care. Finally, he cleared his throat and looked away. “We should see how everyone else is faring.”
If I’d expected a similar declaration from him, that would have been a disappointing response. As it was, I just snorted and rolled my eyes. Men. “Care to give a girl a hand?”