My Butterfly by Laura Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

your head. It’s supposed to be the truth, but you have to do it fast.”
    I met her pouty eyes. They seemed to be fighting back a smile.
    “Okay, pizza,” I said, flashing her a grin.
    “Who are you named after?” she asked.
    “My grandmother,” I said.
    She stopped, and her eyes slowly traveled to mine.
    “You’re named after your grandmother?” she asked, not even bothering to try and hide the teasing grin now slithering its way to her face.
    “Well, sort of,” I said.
    Her perfect eyebrows darted together.
    “Willamina?” she asked.
    I nodded my head.
    Her eyebrows relented a little, but the grin stayed. I didn’t want to have to tell her the whole story, but it didn’t look as if I had much of a choice. Though, the truth was, I’d do anything she asked me to do—even if it was explain to her how I had come to be named after a woman.
    I exaggeratedly sighed through a wide smile.
    “It means protection—Willamina,” I said. “My mom said that my grandmother protected my mom and her family and that she protected me and my family, and that someday, I would protect someone special too.”
    I watched her lips turn into a warm smile and the features on her face grow soft again.
    “That might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said.
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said. “At least they didn’t name me Willamina.”
    “No, I’m serious,” she said, gently sliding her shoulder into mine.
    “So, you don’t think I’m less of a man now that you know I’m named after a woman?” I asked.
    She laughed a sweet and gentle laugh.
    “No, that makes you stronger,” she said, sending me a wink. “And after that story, you couldn’t possibly be less of a man in my eyes.”
    I smiled, as my cheeks grew warm.
    “Well, what about you?” I asked. “Who are you named after?”
    “No one,” she said, laughing. “My mom just liked the name. It means youthful, I think.”
    “That fits,” I said.
    I so wanted to kiss her.
    “The game,” she suddenly exclaimed. “We’re not finished.”
    My eyes faltered from hers, and I leaned my head back against the windshield again.
    “Okay,” I said, still smiling.
    “Okay, what’s your favorite summer job?” she asked.
    “Easy. Umpiring,” I quickly replied.
    “What do you want to be when you grow up?” she asked.
    “Okay, Jules, that one I really don’t know. You know that. Skip,” I pleaded.
    “Okay, fine,” she said. “I thought I’d try. But I’ll answer for you—a famous musician.”
    One corner of my mouth slid up my face.
    “What’s a hobby not many people know you have?” she continued.
    “Uh…playing guitar, I guess,” I said.
    Who are you going to marry?” she asked.
    “You,” I said.
    She stopped suddenly. She looked surprised.
    “Really?” she asked.
    I cocked my head toward her again.
    “That surprises you?” I asked.
    “I guess I just never really thought that far ahead,” she said, bringing her legs to a bent position.
    “You really want to marry me?” she asked.
    “Of course I do. Well, if that’s okay with you?” I asked.
    My voice had turned shy.
    She smiled a happy smile and pressed her head against my shoulder again.
    “You want to grow old and wrinkly with me?” she asked, twisting the corner of my shirt tighter around her finger.
    I hesitated for a second, which attracted her stare.
    “Maybe old, but not wrinkly,” I finally said.
    She was wearing a half-smirk by the time I had finished.
    “Oh, that’s right,” she said, pinching my side. “I was blessed with the good genes, so that means you’ll have to grow wrinkly on your own.”
    I shifted my weight on the hood, then wrapped my arms around her little body and held her as moments flew by like they were speeding trains.
    “Look, a shooting star,” she suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the sky above us. “Make a wish.”
    I watched her eyes fall shut, causing her nose to rumple. And I kept my stare on her for a second, until her eyelids