March 29, 2009

How can I not love reading Sarah-Kate Lynch novels when they start out as brilliantly as this?

I’d be lying if I said my husband failing to show up for our second honeymoon didn’t rattle me.  It did.  It seemed rude.  And not the slightest bit romantic.

But there I found myself, sitting up in Business Class  on the tarmac at Kennedy Airport, my luggage snuggled below in the hold bulging with little(ish) black dresses and negligees, the plane pointed hopefully toward Venice, Italy, and a great gaping hole where my husband should be to my immediate right.

“Your friend is cutting it kinda fine.”  The flight attendant, Ashlee, smiled as she poured me a glass of champagne.  My initial reaction was to ask why her parents hadn’t spelled her name the correct way.

(from Eating with the Angels)


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