"Am I in your book," sweetly asks each of the girls most every day.
"I dunno," I say shrugging my shoulders. "If you pick up your toys. I might put you in."
We engage in mutual manipulation.
The fact is they are in a lot of the stories. They're part of my life which is what I write about so how can they not be? I just don't want to tell them yet. I need to always keep an Ace or two in pocket.
Besides, they need to talk to my kids who have were in my other books. They'll be the first to say that it's not all that.
There are other references too. People I included in books who got really pissed off that they were in one. I thought I was showing them love and respect and they thought otherwise. What do you do? Move on. Gain friends while losing others, trade in old dreams for new ones, and learn to trust ... your love, yourself, God, the things you believe.
I downloaded a new App the other day. Timehop shows what I wrote as a status report on Facebook last year, the year before and the year before that. It's fascinating!
Three years ago my status was, "thinks there's too many windows in this heart hotel." I just discovered I was suddenly single along with the rest of the world.
The next year I "going home by another way." I was in St. Martin when I wrote that seriously considering moving there permanently.
Last year I knew "that the pain comes today, is here then goes away, and we are homeward bound and I ... I want this more than life." I was actually home when I wrote this waiting on Sarah.
You can tell I've come a long way. Today's status is "everybody knows there's nobody meaner than the little old lady from Pasadena." I was singing to the Beach Boys driving home after taking Maddie to school.
Part of today will be spent working on the book that the girls want to be in and they are there ... somewhere in the stacks. Along with my kids, friends lost and gained, old dreams and new ones, Sarah, me, God and the things I believe in.
I'm hopping time. Remembering the past but very much living in the present.
And hoping like hell for tomorrow.
