First, I just want to say thank you, thank you for all the reviews! You have no idea how happy it makes me knowing how much you all love this story.
Though I've been good about updating a couple times a week, the next chapter may take a little while longer. I woke up the day before yesterday with a pretty wicked cold that I can already tell is trying to work its way into an upper respiratory infection. While for some people this would mean more time to write, I won't even attempt it. I know that my head isn't in a place to focus so that it comes out good. So, I'm going to rest and try getting over this quickly so I can get back to updating.
Keep the reviews coming...those are even better than the chicken noodle soup that keeps being shoved in my face.
I woke up to the bright light streaming across my bedroom and groaned, instantly cursing myself for not only forgetting to close the curtains before I went to bed, but also for having insisted on taking this room when we moved here from our old house down the street. At least if I had taken the other room I wouldn't have to deal with this because that room only gets the light from the setting sun, not the rising one.
Cursing myself over the sun only turns into cursing myself for having had anything more than beer to drink last night when I go to get up and feel the headache pounding behind my temples. When I look over at the clock and see that it's 8:30, it only makes me feel worse, realizing that I have maybe an hour to get ready before we have to leave for the airport. And that's when I remember that I made Jace stay with me last night...in my bed. I groan again and throw myself back across it.
Yeah, today's just gonna be great. A headache, awkwardness with the non-husband-husband, and being stuck on a plane for five hours before having to meet and greet a man who literally holds the future of my business, and Jace's in his hands, all while having to pretend to be the perfectly in love wife. Okay, well, maybe the in lo...no, I'm not in love with Jace Herondale.
Finally, I drag myself out of bed and take a quick shower and rake a comb through my hair before putting it up in a messy bun. I throw on a pair of jeans, a tank top, a lightweight hoodie because I know airports and planes like to pretend they're Antarctica and keep the temperature close to the freezing mark, and a pair of flip flops...because, lets face it, going through airport security and having to untie and tie your shoes just to prove you're not a bomb wielding terrorist is annoying as hell.
Once I make it downstairs I'm surprised to see Jace there, pouring a cup of coffee and sliding it across the counter towards me with a couple of Tylenol. I thought for sure that he had snuck out sometime in the middle of the night so he wouldn't have to see me until we had to go to the airport. When I look up and see what he's eating I quirk a brow at him and laugh.
"Are you seriously eating wedding cake for breakfast?"
He stops just as he's about to put the fork in his mouth and shrugs "what? It's good. You want some?"
"Sure, I guess." I shrug back and settle myself onto the stool while he gets a plate, puts a slice on it for me and grabs a fork from the drawer before placing it in front of me.
"I'm sorry you didn't get your favorite, I thought Izzy said that she'd make sure it was both of our favorites but I guess she got so wrapped up in the recipe she wasn't thinking about it. If you want we can pick up a pack of those little hostess cupcakes so you get your chocolate fix."
"Well, as sweet as that is, chocolate's not my favorite." I say, taking a bite of the cake. It really is delicious and hopefully the sugar in it will give me enough of a buzz that it will keep me going today so that I don't end up asleep on the plane.
"It's not? I thought all girls loved chocolate."
"I do love chocolate...it's just not my favorite cake. Hummingbird cake is, which would explain why there aren't any other flavors in the cake"
The look on his face is completely unreadable, but I'm beginning to think I have something on my face with the way he's staring at me.
"I'm sorry about last night" I say, hoping to change the subject and get him to stop looking me that way. It works, because before he says anything he turns to look out the window that faces out towards the back yard where I can see Luke and my mom having their morning coffee while Revus is running in circles chasing his tail.
"It's fine. Let's not talk about it."
"Um...okay, well...I guess we should say goodbye so we can get on the road then." I say, hopping off the stool and making my way to the backyard.
Jace and I say our goodbyes to mom & Luke, then head over and say goodbye to Mayrse, Robert and Max, who much to the pleasure of Mayrse refuses to leave home and has taken to turning their 3 car garage into his very own bachelor pad. He's every bit the loveable geek infatuated with comics and video games like Simon always was but with a cocky, self-confident streak just like Jace. The boy certainly doesn't have any difficulty impressing the ladies.
The ride to the airport is mostly in silence. It's not uncomfortable, but not comfortable either. Though from the few glances I take of Jace while he's driving, he looks like he's in deep thought. We make it to the airport, find a spot in long term parking and manage to make it through checking in, checking our bags and through security with a half hour left before boarding when we make it to the gate. It's not until we sit down that he grabs the ticket out of my hand and looks it over comparing it to my own. Thankfully, we're flying first class and won't have to be squished into a row with a third person.
"This isn't right" he says, shaking his head "you're swapping with me."
"What are you talking about?" I ask, a little annoyed that since we left his parents this is the first thing he's said to me.
"I mean you got the window seat, and I want it."
"No." I say, putting my head in my hand as my arm is propped on the armrest of the chair. I really don't care if I have the window seat or not, but I'm not giving up for the simple fact that he wants it. If he wants to be Moody McGee...then so can I.
"Oh come on, what do you need the window seat for, you're probably just going to sit there doodling in your book anyway."
If there weren't witnesses, I swear I'd smack him for that comment.
"And what do you need the window seat for. You can't see anything but clouds anyway, oh wait...that's right you need some way of looking at your reflection since you love yourself so much. Can't handle a few hours away from a mirror?"
"Exactly...so let me sit there."
"No."
"I'll flip a coin for it." he says with a smirk. I give him a smirk of my own. Little does he know, Sebastian taught me a way to always win a coin toss.
"Fine" I say, pulling a quarter out of my pocket, "call it."
"Heads" I flip the coin and it lands on the floor in front of us, tails up.
"Best out of three" he says, and then he calls tails...followed again by heads, losing each time.
"Guess I get the window seat after all" I smirk at him and settle back into my seat while he picks up the quarter and inspects it.
"No, that's not possible, you're cheating...give me a different quarter."
"I don't have any more." I say with a bored look on my face.
"Fine...then I'll go get some."
He disappears for nearly ten minutes when he finally comes back with a triumphant smile on his face, holding an entire roll of quarters.
"Please, tell me you didn't just go swap a ten dollar bill for a roll of quarters" I say, quirking a brow at him. It's unbelievable the lengths this guy will go to, to get his way.
"Yep...and I managed to get the chicks number too."
He hands me the roll and I pull a quarter out and we get back to tossing. When we've made it half way through the roll, with him still not winning using a different quarter for each flip he takes the roll from my hand and stares at it.
"It's just not possible, there's no way...statistics would make it impossible...what are you doing to them?" He asks, looking at me completely perplexed. I just roll my eyes and smirk at him. That's when he seems to figure out that I really am doing something with him and I know I'm pretty much out of luck now. Usually, the other person isn't quite as persistent.
"One more time" he says, pulling a quarter out, flipping it around in his hand "and this time, I'm flipping."
I just shrug and say "heads".
And as expected, it lands on tails. Guess it's the row seat for me.
When we board the plane, we're in the last row of first class seats, and Jace sits in the window seat bouncing up and down like a five year old as he opens the flimsy plastic curtain that covers the window. I buckle in next to him and pull out my sketchbook so that I can "doodle" as he says.
Halfway into our flight and he's really made himself comfortable, while he watches whatever lame movie they've got playing, and I'm getting more and more annoyed that his arm keeps encroaching on my side of the armrest. Bumping into my arm for the third time and causing me to knock my sketchbook and mess up the lines I was trying to draw I finally pull my earbuds out and jab my elbow back against his.
"Do you mind? I ask, in a loud hiss.
"Yeah, I do actually, I need space."
"You have space, it's over there" I point to his side of the armrest.
"But it's not as comfortable when I put my arm there."
"I don't care, move" I say, trying to keep my voice low enough to not disturb the other people.
"No."
"Ugh...you know what, never mind, thank you for reminding me why I hate you." I say shoving my sketchbook and pencil back in my bag, then cross my arms over my chest and recline the seat further, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. I didn't want to fall asleep on the plane, but if it means I don't have to put up with his crap, it might be worth it. Though no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to shut my brain off enough to actually fall asleep.
It's not long until my eyes shoot open and look over to find him fast asleep, his head leaning on my shoulder. I close my eyes and sigh, mumbling "why did I get myself into this?" when I hear the lady in the seat across the aisle from me speak.
"Newlyweds?" she asks, her voice light as a smile dances on her face. She looks like what you'd picture the typical grandma to be as she sits there knitting something.
"Huh?" I ask, a little confused as to how she would have got that impression from two people who have been arguing.
"The rings." she says, tapping my hand with the knitting needle.
"Oh, that...yeah, I guess."
"I've been watching you two since the gate" she continues "you two remind me of me and my Henry, God rest his soul."
"I'm sorry" I say in condolence, not sure what she's getting at.
"Oh, it's alright sweetheart, we had a good, long and happy life together...and I don't regret a minute of it."
I smile at how content she seems to be despite losing her husband. "That's nice."
"It wasn't always nice. The two of us, couldn't stand each other when we met. We grew up in a small farming community in Pennsylvania. Arranged marriages weren't still common back then, but my father was a very strict, old fashioned, catholic man...who insisted that there was no one better to chose my mate than him. And so he chose Henry. Now let me tell you, Henry was a hard worker, but the boy had a wild side to him, he would drink his weight in whiskey and bring home a new girl every week it seemed. Me, being brought up to be a proper lady didn't want anything to do with him, but my father saw me as a way to straighten out a wayward man. For the first month or so we bickered constantly, much like the two of you, but eventually we learned to love each other. Looking back I don't think I could have picked a better man for myself."
"How long were you married?" I asked, fascinated by her story.
"Oh, honey, I'm still married. Will be until the day I die. But as far as how long we had together before he passed...a wonderful 68 years." She said with a smile that brought a light to her eyes.
"Wow, that's incredible."
"Yes, it is...you don't hear it much these days with the way people are getting married and divorced over the silliest things. Divorce is for the cowards, the weak. Unless he's truly done something to physically hurt you, and even that is questionable...Henry raised his hand to me just once, when he had had a bit too much to drink and I made him sleep in the barn for a week with a foot of snow on the ground, he had to eat slop right along with the pigs...but he never did it again. My point is, that there isn't any problem you two will face that you can't overcome as long as you do it together."
There was something about the woman's words that struck me, as I sat there, spinning the rings on my finger and looking over at Jace, who had moved his head and was now propped up against the window, looking so peaceful as he snored lightly. It made me smile. As much as I wanted to fight it, I could imagine me and Jace being the man and woman in that story. Henry sounded quite a bit like Jace, though I was never brought up a proper lady, and would have raised hell if my father told me who I'd be marrying.
I wanted to ask her for more of her story, but by the time I turned around to ask her, she had already set her knitting on the empty seat next to her and was napping. I took the cue and decided to relax for the remaining hour of the flight. It wasn't long before I was daydreaming about me and Jace, married...happy, living on a farm with two small children, a boy and a girl both with golden hair like him and green eyes like me. The deeper I got into the dream the less I wanted to leave it. It wasn't until I felt the tears coming down my face that I was snapped out of it with the realization that that dream would never be my life.
Uh oh! Looks like Clary is stepping into the land of no return when it comes to Jace. Poor girl though, thinking she can't have that with him. What do you think is up with that? Is it related strictly to Jace, or does it have something to do with Sebastian?
And yes, I know you're all looking forward to another Jace POV chapter...I promise, it's coming. Right now for this part of the story to work, you have to not know what his thoughts and feelings are.