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“You do what you want,” she said. “But I’m wishing.” She closed her eyes, looking as if she was concentrating very hard, so I did the same. Why not? It wasn’t like my luck had been so great lately that I could afford not to. And it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Only, what to wish for? I didn’t believe in wishes any more than I believed in mermaids or magic, but for over a year, whenever I’d found an eyelash or saw the first evening star, I’d superstitiously wished for the same thing:

Something bad to happen to Will Price.

Not for him to die or anything. Wishes weren’t real, of course, but even if they were, I would never wish for anything like that to happen to someone.

But I wouldn’t mind seeing something just alittle bit badhappen to Will Price. Like for him to get the kind of debilitating writer’s block that I had.

Or maybe for him to get into a Twitter war with a beloved social icon like Tom Hanks, so that everyone turned on him.

Or possibly for him to get stung by a jellyfish. Justsomething.

But now that he’d apologized—even if his apology had been very stiff and British and come out of nowhere and therefore not been very satisfying—I was surprised to find that I didn’t wish him that kind of ill anymore.

Obviously I didn’tlikehim, even if he did have a very cool sister who was on a dance team and loved my books.

But I didn’t wish him ill.

So I decided to wish for something else. Something positive instead of negative.

Was it possible that the essential oils Kellyjean wore had already rubbed off on me and were making me a better person?

When I opened my eyes, I found her staring at me expectantly.

“Well?” she asked. “What’d you wish for?”

“Kellyjean, you know I can’t tell you that. I don’t know much about wishing, but I do know that if you tell someone what you wished for, your wish won’t come true.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense. In my family, we always tell each other our wishes, and they still always come true. Here, I’ll tell you what I wished for: that while you’re here on Little Bridge Island, you’ll find whatever it is that you’re searching for.”

I was touched. Kellyjean could be a ditz sometimes, but she was a genuinely sweet person.

“Oh, Kellyjean,” I said, leaning over to give her a hug and this time finding the scent of her oils agreeable. “Thank you. That is so nice. But you didn’t have to waste your wish on me. And what makes you think I’m looking for something, anyway?”

“It’s never a waste to use a wish on another person,” she said, hugging me back. “And of course you’re looking for something. That’s what’s keeping you from writing your next little kitty cat book. And let’s be honest, Jo: you’re such a mess right now, you need wishes way more than I do.”

That sounded more like the Kellyjean I knew. “Thanks a lot,” I said with a wry laugh as I released her.

“You’re welcome, hon. So go ahead, tell me. Whadja wish for?”

But I shook my head. The wish I’d made was one I intended to keep all to myself... at least for now.

The Momentby Will Price

When Melanie raised her head to look at me, her eyes were shining as bright as the moon. I caught my breath, tightening my grip on her shoulders and drawing her close to me.

I don’t know how I found the nerve, but somehow, my mouth grazed hers, just once. Then, when she didn’t object, again.

A second later her arms slipped around my neck, and I found my hands cradling her head, my fingers tangled in the thickness of her hair. Our open mouths met.

Kissing her was easy. I kissed her lips, her cheeks, her throat, the soft hollows behind her earlobes. My hands explored the territory beneath the fitted green jacket and found that she wore something silky beneath it. Her fingers clung to the back of my neck, and the touch of her lips sent chills up and down the backs of my arms.

She kissed me like she meant it. I wasn’t used to that.

Saturday, January 4

Chapter Eleven