To: chasindreams@word.net
From: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
I got your letter…I’m sorry the wooddog is feeling so sad.
Give him oodles of hugs and kisses for me.
You might even keep a hug for yourself. You know, if you want.
Can’t wait to hear what you think of the story so far. You know, if you have a chance to read it.
God, was I this inarticulate in person?
Best,
Polly
To: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
From: chasindreams@word.net
You are never inarticulate, Polly.
The wooddog is still feeling neglected. He even sent you a picture of his sadness.
I’m about halfway done with the book…
Best,
Chase
Polly’s heart melted as she opened the attachment to find a picture of Jack, his nose on his paws, his dark eyes looking up at the camera with the saddest expression on his face. She could just picture Chase coaxing Jack into looking sad for the camera…
To: chasindreams@word.net
From: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
Well, that’s just fighting dirty.
To: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
From: chasindreams@word.net
I like fighting dirty with you.
(Um, that might have come out wrong.)
To: chasindreams@word.net
From: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
Oh my god, have we become people who cyberflirt with each other?
To: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
From: chasindreams@word.net
Yes, yes we have.
Isn‘t it great?
Okay, so I, um, finished reading what you’ve sent me so far of your novel.
It was… educational.
To: chasindreams@word.net
From: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
Oh god. That bad? Educational? That’s like saying it was “interesting”, isn’t it?
“Wow, what an INTERESTING haircut!”
“Hey, that’s an INTERESTING looking meatloaf!”
“She’s not ugly, she’s a really INTERESTING person.”
Educational = interesting
This is why I didn’t want you to read it…
To: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
From: chasindreams@word.net
Actually, I meant educational in that I didn’t know you could actually put into words some of the stuff I’d totally do to you given some time, a secluded location, some spray cheese and possibly a riding crop.
Too much?
That was too much, wasn’t it?
At least you made me, I mean, the main character, a nice guy.
And of course, the girl had no idea how amazing she is.
Typical.
Educational, for sure.
Is there a sequel? ;-)
To: chasindreams@word.net
From: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
I’m not even done with this silly novel, and you already want me to write another one? Geez!
Did you read every page?
Should I quiz you?
To: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
From: chasindreams@word.net
YES, I read every page!
Some of them twice. ;-)
And gee, I read a whole book and it didn’t even have pictures in it or anything!
(Not all woodsmen or gillies are stoopid!)
I have to say, though, my favorite page was the very first one.
Polly sat back in her chair and smiled, biting her thumbnail. She’d debated taking out the dedication part of her draft before sending it to Chase, but at the last moment, had left it included.
To the wooddog, and his impossibly sweet woodsman.
It was only right that he knew that without him and Jack, she wouldn’t be writing, wouldn’t be thinking about changing her life, wouldn’t be…
Happy.
Giggly and girly over thoughts of Chase and her playing house in the woods, of holding his hand on a deserted beach, of doing work that felt fulfilling instead of part of an endless rat race.
Yeah, she had to include it – even if it was just for herself.
To: chasindreams@word.net
From: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
Yeah?
To: pollyrnorth@yahoo.com
From: chasindreams@word.net
Yeah.
You’re impossibly sweet yourself.
And so it went.
Except for days when he had paying customers or shouldn’t could avoid the office for a few hours, Polly and Chase emailed each other constantly, half flirting and half seriously conversing until she couldn’t bear to go an hour or two without checking her email.
This was bad.
She knew this was bad.
His world was so far removed from her own, and he was gone half the time, and she was working and writing all the time, and it was just… bad.
Come to think of it, she really wasn’t writing much, since she was busy composing EMAILS all day, she lamented as she stared at a blank Word doc one morning, searching for inspiration on a new case that had landed in the firm’s lap.
It didn’t help, of course, that at least once a day, Chase sent an email with a picture attached.
Jack sitting in a kayak.
Jack’s paws resting on Mae’s chest, licking her face.
Jack asleep in the middle of a huge bed.
Jack’s tongue lolling out for the camera.
Chase was never in the picture, just Jack. Sometimes, she even got the random YouTube video of Jack barking and running around, and she could hear Chase’s laughter as he held the camera.
She missed his laugh.
She missed his everything.
She was aching… for a gillie instead of her husband.
This was just not a good situation.
42284/50000
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