“You are a great man, that’s for sure.” I gave him a gentle kiss. “And I pray you’re okay with this completely imperfect woman you’re ending up with. I’m a mess. You do know that, right?”
“You? A mess?”
Would this be a good time to tell him about the cellulite? About the love handles? No, maybe not.
I leaned back against the seat and released a happy sigh. “I still can’t believe we’re going to Greece for our honeymoon.”
“Yep. We’re going back to the land of our ancestors,” he whispered. “Where the people are friendly and the culture is rich in history. Where the water is as blue as the sky and the food is sure to pack on the pounds.”
Ugh. An image of my chubby thighs once again rose to the surface, but I pushed it away. No point in thinking about the negatives when the positives were staring me in the face. Greece! I was going to Greece. I could hardly believe it. All my life I’d dreamed of this.
Stephen took my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “I keep forgetting to tell you, we’ve been given the run of the estate.”
“I still can’t believe Mama owns it. Crazy.”
“Yes. We can stay as long as we like. And from what I hear, it’s pretty amazing. Your uncle Milo showed me a ton of pictures. There are a couple of cars there too, but he doesn’t have any idea what sort of shape they’re in.”
“Who cares? It’s going to be the best two weeks of our lives.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Me either.” He gave me a tender kiss. Well, tender at first. As the kiss deepened, I gave myself a friendly reminder: Better slow down. We’re not on our honeymoon yet.
I leaned back and smiled at my husband-to-be. “That was just a sample of things to come,” I said with a wink. “You’ll have to wait for the rest.”
“I’m a very patient man.” He gave me a knowing look, then smiled. “Once we’re married, there won’t be any interruptions.”
“Unless one of us comes up with a brilliant-beyond-brilliant idea for the show or something,” I said. “Then you know what’s going to happen. We’re going to stop everything to write it down.”
“Oh no we’re not. No writing on this trip.”
“Seriously? You really think we can go two whole weeks without writing? Impossible.”
“The only story we’re writing is our own,” he said. “In fact, I’ve already started it. If you’re a good girl, I might let you read what I’ve already written.”
“Wait a minute . . . you’re scripting our honeymoon?” I felt my cheeks grow warm as I thought about that. “Not sure that one will be PG.”
“No, it won’t be PG, but it will make you smile.” He quirked a brow. “Trust me on this. You can read it later. After we’re married.”
“I might just have to do a version of my own,” I said. “We’ll compare and see whose is better.”
“Enough with competition. From now on, we’re on the same team.”
“Oooh,” I said as something occurred to me. “How can we lay down our competitive spirits when we’ve never had our baklava contest?”
“What?”
“Remember? We were going to have a contest to decide who was better at baking baklava.”
Stephen shook his head. “Let me ask you a question.”
“Okay.”
“Does it really matter?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, in the grand scheme of things, does it really matter who’s better at what? Does it matter who comes up with a better idea for a script or who bakes a better baklava?” When I shook my head, he said, “Okay then. Let’s skip the contest. Declare a truce.”
“You’ve got it.” But my baklava’s still better than yours.
“Thanks.” He gave me a kiss so sweet it almost made me forget my competitive spirit. With this guy on my team, I could go a long, long way.
And I would, as soon as we boarded that plane for Greece.
“Stephen, promise me you won’t tell me where we are on the plotline when we’re honeymooning,” I said. “I don’t think I could take it.”
He laughed. “I promise. We’ll be seat-of-the-pants honeymooners. No plans.” His brow wrinkled. “Oh, well, except one. I had to book one thing in advance. Couldn’t be avoided.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve been dying to tell you. You’re going to love this.” He gave my hands a squeeze. “We’re going on a deep-sea-fishing cruise when we’re in Greece. Perfect, right?”
“Deep-sea fishing? Why in the world would you sign us up to do something like that?”
He gave me a curious look. “Because you’re into fishing. Isn’t that right?”
“I am?”
“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s what Kat told me. She said you were looking for a guy who loves to fish. Did I get that wrong?”
Oh no! A giggle arose. “Well, let’s just say that was a test. That whole ‘must love fishing’ thing, I mean.”
“It was for me too.” As he gazed at me, I noticed a shimmer of tears in his eyes. “It’s been a secret desire of mine since I was a kid. I never had a dad to fish with, and my nona wasn’t interested, so you have no idea how much it means to me that you love to fish. I’ve waited all my life for a woman who wants to get her hands dirty. Bait a hook. Drag in a great catch.” He gave me a little wink and then kissed me on each cheek.
I’d dragged in a great catch, all right. He continued to ramble on about the deep-sea-fishing expedition he’d booked for us, and I felt joy bubbling up from inside.
Should I tell him the truth about my so-called love for fishing, though? Nah. That could wait for another day. One thing was for sure—the Lord certainly had a great sense of humor. I could almost see him rocking back and forth on his throne in heaven, shouting, “Gotcha!”
I chuckled, thinking of that image. Yep. He was definitely a better writer than I’d ever dream of being. And his punch lines were out of this world.
Stephen continued to talk, oblivious to my thoughts. “Just wait till you see the waters in Greece. If they’re half as great as the pictures on the internet, we’re going to have the experience of a lifetime. We’re going to catch all sorts of fish.” He went off on another tangent, talking about the countless varieties of fish he hoped to snag.
Me? I’d already caught the one I’d been hoping for. And he could try for the rest of his life . . . but I wasn’t letting this one get away.
Special Feature
“HONEYMOON IN GREECE”
WRITTEN BY
Athena Pappas Cosse
EDITED BY
Stephen Cosse
REWRITTEN BY
Athena Pappas Cosse
REEDITED BY
Stephen Cosse
A PLAZA in Athens at midday. Wide shot of two STATUES in the middle of the square. Close-up of a Greek statue of ADONIS (STEPHEN). Handsome male face. Camera pulls back to reveal broad shoulders and ripped abs, covered partially by an off-the-shoulder toga. GREEK MUSIC BEGINS.
A tight shot to Adonis’s left reveals a statue of ATHENA, virgin patron saint of Athens. She’s smiling—until the camera zooms in on the cellulite on the backs of her thighs. Her smile turns to a frown and she shifts her position to hide her backside. MUSIC INTENSIFIES.
A TOURIST with a camera notices the change in ATHENA’S expression and position. He calls his wife over to witness it. ATHENA freezes as if she’s never moved. The man takes a picture. ATHENA sneezes.
Camera zooms in on a statue of a small Greek DOG to the woman’s right. Statue of DOG comes to life and leaps from the podium, startling tourists. ATHENA’S statue slowly begins to morph as well, and she steps off the podium, a smile on her face.
The TOURIST goes crazy with his camera, snapping pictures right and left. By now a crowd is approaching. Voices overlap.
WIDE SHOT on PLAZA, which is filled with vendors. DOG approaches a sandwich vendor, unties his apron with his teeth, and carries it to ATHEN
A. She ties it around STEPHEN’S neck, turning it into a superhero cape. He slowly comes to life, reaching over to grab a couple of sandwiches. He hands one to ATHENA. She takes it with a smile.
Just as the crowd goes crazy, STEPHEN adjusts his cape and takes hold of ATHENA’S right hand with his left. He sets his sights on the sky. A resounding “Up, up, and away!” rings out from STEPHEN as his feet leave the ground. The crowd begins to cheer.
Tight shot on STEPHEN as he lifts off. The shot moves to ATHENA as she takes to flight as well. She can’t stop smiling. At the last minute, she releases her hold on her sandwich and it tumbles to the ground. She extends her free hand to the DOG. DOG looks back and forth between sandwich on the ground and ATHENA’S extended hand. As the music swells, the DOG snags the sandwich in his teeth, then leaps into the air. Athena catches him.
Tight shot on the trio as they fly off into sunny skies.
FADE TO CIRCLE. DOG PEEKS THROUGH CIRCLE, EATING SANDWICH. FADE TO BLACK.
Acknowledgments
As a writer, I connect with Athena on so many levels. I’m always wondering what stage of the plotline I’m at! I’d like to thank so many people who poured into me as a writer, including my good friend Patti Lee, who took me to my first writers’ conference. Patti, you saw something in me long before I recognized it myself. Bless you for stirring up that gift in me.
Many thanks to sweet Janetta, who read every word of this manuscript, sticking with me till the very end. There’s nothing like the eleventh-hour rush. Right, Janetta?
To my proofing buddies, Heather and Wendy. God bless you! Thanks for skimming over the manuscript to check for errors. I’m so grateful.
To my editor, Jennifer Leep. I still remember the day you called me to talk about this book. I thought I was in trouble! Turned out you just wanted me to add a dog to the story. Go figure! As a dog lover, I pounced on that idea! What fun coming up with the character of Zeus.
Many thanks to my copy editor, Jessica Miles. Girl, I sing your praises from shore to shore. You are truly the best copy editor I’ve ever worked with, providing the perfect balance of polish and encouragement. Thanks for your kindness and your expertise.
To my marketing gurus, Michele, Donna, and the others who spend so much time marketing and promoting my books. Bless you! Oh, what fun to work alongside you.
To Chip MacGregor, my faithful agent. We are quite the team, aren’t we? You will never know how grateful I am for your presence in my life. If not for you, these stories wouldn’t exist.
And finally, to my dad. I know you’re smiling down from heaven on this particular project. I remember that summer of ’78 when you moved our family to L.A. so you could get into the movie biz. I cried my eyes out when you asked me to write that first script for you. Didn’t have a clue what I was doing, and the idea of writing it terrified me. I think about that afternoon now and just smile. I might not have known what I was doing, but God sure did. He was opening up a Pandora’s box (don’tcha love the Greek reference?) and planting seeds for the writing life that was to come. Thank you so much for seeing that gift in me, Dad, and for stirring it up. I miss you, but I know we’ll pound out stories together in heaven one day. They’ll be out of this world—literally!
Janice Thompson is a Christian freelance author and a native Texan. She has four grown daughters, four beautiful granddaughters, and two grandsons. She resides in the greater Houston area, where the heat and humidity tend to reign.
Janice started penning books at a young age and was blessed to have a screenplay produced in the early eighties, after living in the Los Angeles area for a time. From there she went on to write several large-scale musical comedies for a Houston school of the arts. Currently, she has published over sixty novels and nonfiction books for the Christian market, most of them lighthearted.
Working with quirky characters and story ideas suits this fun-loving author. She particularly enjoys contemporary, first-person romantic comedies. Janice loves sharing her faith with readers and hopes they will catch a glimpse of the real happily ever after in the pages of her books.
Books by Janice Thompson
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Weddings by Bella
Fools Rush In
Swinging on a Star
It Had to Be You
Backstage Pass
Stars Collide
Hello, Hollywood!
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Janice Thompson, Hello, Hollywood!
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