Oh, heavens. Could the man be any dreamier? I place my hand in his, and then he walks me to the front of the car where he pulls me close, and we sway in front of his headlights.
As I close my eyes and rest my head against his strong chest, I smile. Because life has a funny way of working out sometimes.
47
ABIGAIL
My nose is cold, I’m jetlagged, and my stomach is queasy, but the moment Yvette and I reach the Tower Bridge walkway and stare out the lattice windows, I forget my discomfort.
“Breathtaking,” I whisper.
An incredible view of London stretches out before me as I stare at the River Thames, which snakes through the city. I whip out my phone and snap several photos before Yvette and I take some selfies. I’m not much for selfies, but I figure a trip to London warrants a few.
As Yvette takes video for her travel blog, I text Nick a quick note letting him know what our plans are this afternoon and that I’ll upload photos for him tonight.
He immediately responds even though it’s barely six in the morning back home. So glad you’re having a blast, baby. Be safe!
I grin and tuck my phone away. As much as I miss him, I’m glad Nick can use this time to focus on the playoffs.
Yvette holds up her map and points at the horizon. “That’s London Bridge. Did you know they used to put the heads of decapitated prisoners on spikes there, like William Wallace and Thomas Cromwell, as a warning not to start trouble?”
I shiver. “Having your head on a spike is a great reason to avoid a life of crime.”
She regales me with more historical tidbits while I jot down notes and color code them in one of the journals Nick bought me. Since he couldn’t come on this trip, he told me he’d be with me in spirit and thought I could use my journals to share this experience with him when I got home.
Sighing happily, I stare out the window again as I hug the book to my chest. As much as I miss him, I’m excited to have this great adventure on my own to prove I can do it.
When we reach the Tower of London, I make a very undignified little squeal of happiness. “You can almost feel a thousand years of history wafting off the brick.”
We decided we’d start with some major monuments first before we hit up more literary sights, but we’ve also grouped some attractions by location for maximum efficiency. Yvette and I are both book nerds, and we spent the majority of our flight here figuring out our itinerary, which is what I used my other journal for.
We’re going to visit the Globe Theatre, the Charles Dickens Museum, Poet’s Corner at Westminster Abbey, and a dozen other sights if we can swing it. We’re saving the best part for last and plan to see Jane Austen’s house the day before we leave since it requires a train ride out to Alton and then a long walk to Chawton.
As much as I was hoping to do a side trip to Germany to see their Christmas markets, Yvette doesn’t want to leave England, and I’m not crazy about going by myself. I promised Nick and my parents that I’d be safe, so my one concession is not taking that solo trip. I’m not crazy about braving Heathrow alone with the holiday crowds anyway. Fortunately, London has its own Christmas markets. Cutting that trip will also help me stay within my budget.
Yvette hooks her arm in mine. “We still need to figure out when we can do a high tea.”
“You just want a reason to get one of those mugs we saw in that gift shop.”
“Are you kidding? I want all of those mugs. Like ‘Fifty Shades of Earl Grey,’ or ‘I’m bad to the scone,’ or maybe ‘Don’t be chai.’”
“I think I want ‘Sticks and scones may break my bones.’”
We both laugh.
London is awesome.
48
NICK
“Show me more, Daddy.” Hazel scoots closer, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull out my phone.
“Here’s where Abby went to see Big Ben.”
“Who’s Ben? I don’t see him.”
“It’s the clock, honey.”
