The Aisle and Skye by Fox Brison

Author:Fox Brison [Brison, Fox]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bold Fox Publishing
Published: 2017-07-02T22:00:00+00:00

I love her, Sara. I’m just scared I’m going to lose her.

I have more chance of swimming the Atlantic Ocean naked than you have of losing Skye. Talk to her, Nat, she loves you. Never doubt that.

And deep inside I didn’t doubt that. I just wasn’t sure if she was ‘in love’ with me anymore.

Chapter 28

Skye

The drive down to Connecticut was peaceful.

Not.

The drive to Connecticut was abysmal. The traffic was a ribbon of slow moving molten metal which was in constant flux. The weather didn’t help; we’d gone from a mild autumn into winter’s fierce grip with little warning. I prayed it would improve before my flight to England the following week. Being held prisoner in Boston would be the last straw for me. I still didn’t know what to do for the best, but was sure being at home with Natalie would make things a lot clearer. As if my thoughts could conjure her, Natalie’s voice greeted me through Tess’s car speakers.

“Hey, sweetie,” I answered quickly adding, “you’re on loud speaker.”

“What? Where are you?”

“In Tess’s car heading to Yale. Her Bluetooth must have picked up my phone by mistake.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Nat? Shit. I think we’ve been cut off.”

“No, I’m still here,” she said quietly. Too quietly.

“Natalie, is everything alright?” I suddenly panicked. Until that point, it had never occurred to me that in my obstinate refusal to give Natalie the opportunity to support me, I’d withdrawn my support of her.

“Not really, but I’ll call later when we haven’t got an audience.” She hung up brusquely. Giving Tess an embarrassed shrug, I focussed my attention on the passing scenery, even though due to the rain visibility was poor. I was getting exactly what I wanted.

I was King Canute ordering the Natalie waves to recede, but unlike that ancient monarch I was actually succeeding in my demands.

***

“So in my opinion we should lessen the emphasis of Bede’s connection to the religious orders of the eighth century,” Tess said. She was only trying to help but I was getting sick of her ‘suggestions.’

Especially at eleven o’clock at night.

“Tess, I appreciate your input, I do. But this is my speech and my subject. I’m going to have to defend every one of my points, so I need to have complete faith in them. Do you understand?”

“Well. Sure. I guess.”

Tess translation: no, no I don’t understand and you should be doing it exactly how I want it done. My father will never forgive me if you embarrass him! Tess was obsessed with me performing to Professor James Ford’s high standards. It was one thing being the lead in a partnership (me Tarzan, you Jane as it were) it was quite another when you were forced to collaborate with someone who owned vision of the tunnelled variety.

“Tess, sweetie, you need to find your own voice within your writing and not replicate what you think either your father would write, or what he would want you to write.

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