Chasing Fate

by Rachael Brownell

  But now, life is better. Admitting to myself how I feel about him makes my heart flutter. It makes the trip more enjoyable. More than anything, it definitely makes the sex better. It's always been amazing–since day one. Now, I'd consider it mind-blowing.

  Is that how it is when you love someone?

  Do things change that much?

  "Are you going to stay in there forever?" Jackson asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  "I'm getting out in a minute." Pausing, I consider asking him when things changed for him, but I chicken out. "Can you grab me a..."

  White. Fluffy. I can't think of the word for some reason, so I point instead.

  "Towel," Jackson says, walking over and grabbing one off the shelf. "Use your words, Jessa," he teases. If he only knew I was trying to.

  This is bad. The doctor warned me about this. Forgetfulness, exhaustion, forgetting the names of common items. All signs the tumor is taking over. He said it would slowly progress, getting worse and worse.

  Chapter 11

  Letting me sleep in late, Jackson and I spend our last afternoon in Paris making plans for the rest of our trip. We find a little cafe around the corner from the hotel and set up shop. While Jackson gets us two hot cups of coffee, I spread out the map. He says we're going to add stops. I have no idea what he has planned, but he was excited when I finally woke up so he could tell me he had ideas.

  "Okay," he says, handing me my coffee. "First, let’s make plans for Venice. What do you want to see while you're there? Why did you put it on your list?"

  "I don't remember," I reply, taking a sip of my coffee. It scalds my tongue, but I take another sip anyway. "I made my list in college. It was one of those things that I remember someone telling me about once and I just knew I wanted to go there. A girl in my sorority took a family vacation and was showing us pictures. There was one of her in a gondola, and I decided then and there I wanted to ride in one. Stupid, huh?"

  "Not at all,” he replies, staring at me intensely.

  "After that, I started making my list. I thought about all the places in the world that I thought would be cool to see and do. I was young and stupid. Some of the things made the list because I couldn't think of anything better to put on there."

  "Like what?"

  "Get a tattoo."

  "That'll be fun," he says with a smirk

  "Dye my hair pink."

  "I'm loving this list even more now. You're going to look hot with pink hair."

  "I don't know, Jackson. We don't have to do everything on the list."

  "Isn't that the point, though?"

  I nod my head and roll my eyes at him. I should never have told him about the tattoo. I hate needles. Even more so now that I've been poked so much by the doctors.

  "Let's make it through Venice and then we can figure out the rest of the list," I suggest.

  "Nope. We're planning it all out today. We don't have much time to do anything else, so let's at least do this."

  Begrudgingly, I agree.

  Holding his hand out to me, I know what Jackson wants. I dig through my purse until I find it and then place it in his palm. Unfolding it carefully, he smooths out the wrinkles before holding his hand out again. "Pen," he says.

  Crossing off the things we've already done, he studies the rest of my list.

  1. Get a tattoo

  2. Dye my hair pink

  3. Drink coffee in Seattle

  4. Visit the Grand Canyon

  5. See the northern lights

  6. Sleep under the stars on a beach

  7. Relax in the Bahamas

  8. Spend NYE in Times Square NY

  9. Visit the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France

  10. Ride in a gondola in Venice

  11. Take the subway

  12. Eat brunch

  13. Ride in a horse-drawn carriage

  14. Fly first class

  15. Go snorkeling

  16. Eat from a street vendor cart

  "These are all doable. What else do you want to add?"

  "Nothing. This will take us the rest of the planned trip, even though we're cutting out a week."

  "Come on, Jessa. Isn't there anything else you want on this list? I see you took my advice and added a few things we've done. Is that how you want to do this? Add things as we go along?"

  "We can. My goal is to check the original things off my list. Anything we add is just a bonus."

  "Can I add one thing?"

  "Depends. What do you want to add?"

  "It's a surprise. If you let me, I'll need to hold onto the list from now on. And, you have to do whatever I put on the list."

  What's he up to? He's got a wiry grin on his face. He definitely has something planned that he's dying to put on the list. What the hell? It's not like I have anything to lose. What's the worst thing he could put on the list?

  "One thing. That's it. And I want my list back as soon as we check it off the list. And no skydiving. I left that off the list for a reason. In fact, nothing involving heights."

  "Deal," he replies quickly. Shielding my view of the list, Jackson jots something down before folding it up and sliding it in his wallet.

  "What if I want to add something to the list in the meantime?" I ask.

  "I'll add it for you."

  Writing directly on the map, Jackson adds dates to each stop. We'll be arriving in Detroit in a little over a week. From there, we're driving north to Jackson's family house near the Mackinac Bridge to see the northern lights. We'll spend two days there before we drive over the bridge, which is probably being added to the list because I forgot how long it is and I'm not a huge fan of bridges and head to a place called Pictured Rock. Jackson claims it's the most beautiful spot in northern Michigan.

  We get to spend two days there before we need to get on the road. From the time we land in Detroit to the time, our plane leaves Green Bay, we have exactly six days. The first day is for travel, and so is the last. I was hoping he would give me more time to prepare for the trip home. Mentally. It's not going to happen. Two weeks from today, we'll be landing back in Kansas City, heading to my parents so I can break their hearts.

  The good news is that he's only giving us one full day there. We arrive in the afternoon on Monday and we're hitting the road Tuesday night, heading straight to Seattle like I originally planned. However, between Kansas City and Seattle is a ton of other states and, now, a bunch of other stops, including, but according to Jackson not limited to, Denver and Yellowstone National Park. I tried to fight the extra stops but lost. It's more than a full day’s drive straight through. Stopping will break things up nicely he claims. Plus, he promised me nice hotel rooms with large bathtubs and him naked. How could I turn that down?

  Once we hit Seattle, we plan to spend a few days there. I want to check out the fish market, Pike's Place. Then there's the Space Needle. Jackson mentioned something about a music museum. Art is not my thing, but I love music. It sounds like a museum I would actually enjoy.

  When we leave Seattle, we're heading south to what I'm referring to as "wine country" for three days. I want to tour as many wineries as we can in Northern California. This is definitely being added to the list. Jackson even made us a reservation at one of the wineries so we are staying on site.

  The day is starting to slip away, and we're running out of time. We fold up the map, grab a coffee to take with us, and head back to the hotel to pack. Our flight leaves in about four hours, and we need to check out and get to the airport as quickly as possible. Of course, I need to make sure Jackson is going to be sated for the flight first. He's still not going to get me to add the mile-high club to my list.

  Shit! I hope that's not what he added to the list.

  He canceled our flight!

  When Jackson changed our travel arrangements, I never thought he meant we wouldn't be traveling by plane. It's the fastest way to get to Venice from here. Instead of jumping a short flight, we're on a fourteen-hour express train ride across Europe. We're schedu
led to arrive in Venice just before noon tomorrow.

  The bright side? We’ll have our own cabin–with a bed where I’ll be able to stretch out and sleep. I'm exhausted.

  As soon as the train speeds away from the station, Jackson pulls me down onto the bed and holds me tight. Sleep soon encompasses both of us, the slight rocking motion of the train and the warmth of Jackson's body lulling me to sleep almost instantly.

  I wake to the sound of someone moving around our cabin. It's still dark when I open my eyes, at least for a moment. A light flicks to life, blinding me. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I wait for my eyes to adjust. Once they do, I see Jackson digging through his suitcase, searching for something.

  "What are you doing?" I ask, startling him.

  "I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep, Jessa."

  "Only if you do," I say, sitting up straighter, daring him with my eyes to crawl back in next to me.

  "You wanna play?" he asks seductively, taking a step toward me. "We can play if you want, but just know we're going to have to add this to the list, then."

  "What? Sex on a train?"

  "Yep," he says, popping the P with his lips as he takes another step closer. At this point, I could reach out and pull him down on top of me, but I'm going to let him take charge. Everything is better when he's in control.

  #18 Have sex on a moving train

  "Do I need to add it to the list twice since it happened twice?" I ask, attempting to catch my breath. Jackson was ready to go again the moment I woke up. I try not to keep him waiting these days. It feels naughty sometimes, but I love it.

  "No. But, if you want, I can think of a few other fun things we could add to the list," he replies, waggling his eyebrows at me.

  "I'm sure you could." Rolling out of bed, I stretch my arms above my head, the tiny tank top I'm wearing rising all the way to the underside of my breasts.

  "Quit teasing me or we're not getting off this train until my every fantasy has been fulfilled."

  Winking at him over my shoulder, I step into my pants and slowly pull them up until they cover my ass. Teasing him is more fun than I thought it would be. If I thought I could get away with it for the rest of the trip, I would.

  "So, we still have a few hours before we get there. What do we do now? Sit here?" I ask, plopping down on the end of the bed.

  "You never told me what else you wanted to do in Venice. Wanna make some fun plans?"

  "Sure. What do you want to do?"

  "This trip is about you, Jessa, not me. I'm just lucky to be along for the ride."

  After Jackson dresses, we make a few small plans. Once we check into our hotel, finding food is going to be our main goal. After that, we're going to walk around the city and do a little shopping. He convinces me that bringing something back for my parents will soften the blow. I'm not sure anything will soften it enough to keep them from crumbling to the ground. Especially Alex. I'm worried about him more than anything.

  Shaking away all thoughts of what lies ahead, I focus on the ideas Jackson is tossing around.

  Our time in Venice is about tackling as much as we can. He's decided we are going to rent a scooter and tour the city. I've heard there are cathedrals and historic plazas that are worth seeing. Riding around on a scooter is going to allow us to see all these places quicker than if we were traveling by foot and it’s cheaper than paying someone to take us from place to place.

  Day three is what I'm most excited about. We are taking a ride down the Grand Canal in a gondola, the main reason Venice made it on my list all those years ago.

  When the train finally arrives at the station, Jackson grabs our bags and leads the way to the platform. There are people everywhere. My nerves go on high alert, just like they did in the elevator at the Eiffel Tower. Too many people, not enough space for everyone.

  Holding onto the back of his jacket, I let Jackson lead me through the sea of people. Squeezing my eyes closed for a second, I lurch forward into Jackson. He stops instantly, turning around just in time to catch me before I land on the ground. Once I'm on my feet again, we continue our journey out of the station.

  #19 Ride in a water taxi

  When the word taxi is tossed around, I first picture a yellow and black car that drives too fast. Not in Venice. Here, they ride the waves, what little ones they create. And, judging by the amount of money Jackson just handed our driver, they’re more expensive.

  "Is this really how we're getting to our hotel?" I ask Jackson as he holds my hand while I step into the taxi.

  "Why not?"

  "I just figured we would be on land, that's all."

  "Add it to the list," he replies, taking the seat next to me while our bags are loaded.

  "I already thought of that."

  The ride is surprisingly smooth. The seats are comfortable and covered in leather upholstery, and the cabin we're seated in keeps us warm. Another couple and their two children are riding with us. The kids are pushing each other playfully until one falls off the seat and begins to cry. Their mother scolds them in what sounds like German, causing both girls to cross their arms and stare at each other in anger.

  Being an only child, I missed that. I would have given anything to have someone to fight with, someone to annoy. A friend at times, an enemy at others, but someone who would always have my back no matter what. Jackson has that. I wonder if I'll meet any of his family. Detroit isn't far from where he grew up.

  The lobby of the hotel has my jaw hitting the ground. When I booked my stay in Venice, I opted for a hostile. I was trying to save money. This place was never on my radar for that exact reason. We're going to have to talk about finances. Mine have to be running low by now, and I refuse to let him pay for much more than he already has. It's not fair to him. This was my trip, my idea.

  "This place is too much," I say as we enter the elevator and head to our suite. Yes, our suite. We're going to be talking about money before we do anything else. We have to.

  "It's magnificent, isn't it? When I found it, I knew you would love it."

  "I do. It's gorgeous, but it's expensive. I can't afford it, Jackson."

  "Don't worry about it."

  "I am," I say, the elevator sounding our arrival as the door slides open in front of us.

  "Do you really want to talk about this now? Don't you want to clean up and check out the city?"

  "Yes and yes, but first, we need to talk."

  Letting out a huff, Jackson leads the way down the hall without another word. When he opens the doors to our room, my conviction to have this talk now is renewed. This place really is too much, of everything, including money.

  The room is a rich red from floor to ceiling. The walls are covered in a red and white flourish print. The curtains are stark white, a direct contract to the couch and two sitting chairs. Those are vibrant red with white decorative pillows.

  Walking past Jackson, I inspect the rest of the suite. The bedroom closely matches the living room in color. The wallpaper is the same, but the room has white curtains, white bedding, and red accent pieces. The bathroom is glistening white with red accent pieces, right down to the hand towels.

  When I turn to head back to the living room, Jackson's standing behind me, leaning against the bathroom door frame.

  "What do you think?"

  "It's amazing."

  "You haven't even seen the best part yet," he replies, extending his hand for me. Reaching out, he pulls me to his side and guides me back into the bedroom. Dirty thoughts cross my mind as we pass by the bed and head toward the window.

  Correction. Not a window.

  As Jackson pulls back the curtains, I realize we're standing in front of a set of french doors that lead to a balcony. Looking beyond the rail is what really catches my eye. We have an amazing view of the Grand Canal. Stepping out into the crisp air, I lean over the rail and down below at the line of gondola's waiting for their next customers.

  Feeling Jackson approach from behind, I stand up straight and
melt into his arms when he slides them around my waist. How can I be mad at him for this? He's so sweet, almost too sweet. He's just trying to make this trip as amazing as possible, and he's doing it all for me. Everything he's done has been for me.

  That doesn't change the fact that I can't afford this hotel. It doesn't change the fact that I'm traveling on a budget that was blown long ago. I should check my account, but I'm afraid to see what my funds look like at this point.

  "It's all going to be fine, Jessa. You need to stop worrying so much," Jackson whispers in my ear before kissing me softly on the collarbone, sending a shiver down my spine. His lips are gentle as they graze my skin.

  Things are not going to be fine. This trip will eventually end. When it does, when our journey is over, I'm going to have to deal with reality again. Reality sucks. In my reality, I die. So, no, things aren't going to be fine, but I can't tell him that. He's being positive, and I'm stuck holding in my negative thoughts.

  "I know that Jackson, but we do need to talk about the cost of all this. You shouldn't be paying for anything. This was my trip and, as much as I love that you're here along for the ride, it's not right to let you pay for this."

  "You don't have a choice. What's done is done."

  Turning, I pull out of Jackson's embrace and lean against the railing. "That's what I'm talking about. You're not even giving me the option."

  "I'm trying to save us from having this fight."

  "It's not working."

  "I can see that. Know why it's not working? You won't let me take care of you, that's why."

  "I don't need someone to take care of me, Jackson. I'm a responsible adult. I put on my big girl panties this morning. I'm capable of taking care of myself just fine."

  "Those were your big girl panties?" he asks in a serious voice, raising his left eyebrow.

  "Don't try and change the subject."

  Throwing his hands up in surrender, he says, "Fine. I give. I don't want to fight with you. We can grab our bags and find a cheaper place. I'm still paying for the hotel, though. You won't win that fight."