As I watched the ice rattle around in its glass, I grasped harder onto the arms of my seat. The captain had made an announcement about a half hour ago, bracing passengers for a “mild “ amount of turbulence in the next leg of the flight.
Starting from 60, I counted backwards under my breath, now on my twenty-sixth round of this exercise. Another jolt caused my fingers to dig further into my seat and close my eyes. This WOULD be the end, right here, I thought.

Funny thing is, no one would even realize I was on this flight. At least, not for a while. News headlines crossed across my eyes, words “horrific, crash, and Atlantic Ocean” all bolded in red. I pictured my parents getting the phone call, not really believing their only daughter was on the airplane. There would be no way. She hadn’t even mentioned a translantic journey to them at all, plus their daughter was terrified of flying. There was no way she on that plane.

Yet, here I am. Either going to die from a fiery plane crash or just a straight up panic attack . The plane dipped forward a little and I looked around the seats, trying to see if anyone else was planning their own obituary in their heads. Nope, everyone seemed to be sleeping soundly in their seats or reading under the soft glow of their overnight lights. I leaned back in my seat, closed my eyes and tried to convince myself to be like everyone else. Clearly, this wasn’t a big deal. But as I drifted into the darkness of my eyelids, another image came to mind. The last twelve hours of my life, and how I got myself on an 10 hour flight across the globe with no luggage, no carry-on and simply no idea what I was going to do next.

…

 It honestly had the most ordinary Thursday. The only thing out of place maybe, was the weather. It was a balmy 75 degrees in March, very unlike a typical spring day in the Midwest. Which made me change my schedule the moment I woke up. I had planned to spend the day bundled up in my home office, a fresh pot of coffee to keep me awake for the amount of photo editing ahead of me. But the warm sun led me to a different idea, tempting me with its promise of vitamin D and color for my winterized skin. I hopped out of bed, quickly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, once again feeling blessed for the flexibility of owning my photography business. I loved that my day could change in an instant, based upon moments of inspiration, a friend wanting to grab coffee or just needing to get some other errands done before putting myself behind the lens of a camera or laptop for the day. Today was a planned editing day, scoping out my best images from a recent photo shoot with a small company. Thankfully, this could be done from my own office or in the comfort of a small coffee shop. And with the sun acting the way it was, preferably a café with an outdoor seating area. A quick search on Yelp and I found myself a winner. It was a half hour drive, but the pictures of its inviting outdoor patio was well-worth it. Driving with the windows down, I flipped on a country station and donned my Ray Ban sunglasses.

I kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other dangling outside the window, already soaking in the sunshine. I couldn’t help but smile, happy to see that this dreadfully long winter was finally coming to an end. As I neared my destination, I could hear my phone ding in the passenger seat. I quickly clicked on the text at a stoplight, knowing I had a few moments to spare. “Morning Beautiful  What are your plans for the day?” My smile grew as I put my phone back down and started driving again. I could always count on a morning text from my boyfriend to make me again appreciate this wonderful life I had; a booming photography business, the flexibility to plan my days as needed and a boyfriend from the past five years that always kept me smiling. And with a spring day like this, all was right in my world.

I turned up the music a little louder and started singing to my guaranteed summer song. I could already feel it. Excitement began to tingle in my fingertips and toes.. I often felt this sensation when I was onto something big. Whether an amazing photoshoot, finding inspiration from another photographer or even when planning the perfect date with an even more perfect boyfriend. It’s like my heart knew to send these signals out when I needed an awakening that I was onto to something good. Really good. And with the way I was feeling at this exact moment, I knew this season of my life was only the beginning of something greater.

I easily found the café, driving a couple of blocks down to find a parking spot. As I approached the entrance, I knew this was the perfect choice to feel inspired by my surroundings. The patio was set out front, covered under a blanket of ivy and rustic gondolas. A few small sparking chandeliers caught the light of the sun, sending a glow over the entire place. I shivered, the sun still warming up my skin and I anticipated the warm touch of a hot cup of coffee to cling to, before waking up my creative senses to start editing. I adjusted my backpack with my laptop and wrapped my denim jacket tighter, eager to warm up as the sun still continued to rise. As I got the front door, I couldn’t believe my eyes; my sweet boyfriend waiting for me inside, already seated at a window booth. I did a double take, not quite sure it was him at first. He was looking down at his phone in one hand, a latte cup in the other. Although his head was down, I could see the top of his sandy blonde hair and his little grin on his lips. He was wearing the plaid button-down I had gotten him for Christmas, highlighting his forest green eyes. I grinned mischievously, and started walking to the window, scheming to surprise him first. Who said he had to be the one full of surprises?

But as I walked closer, my feet froze. I saw him put his phone down and look up at the seat in front of him. The light from the sun caused a glare on the window, but I could spot a pair of freshly manicured hands reach out to him. He set aside his own cup and reached for said mystery hands. And, slowly, he leaned forward. Everything began to spin around me. I could hear the sounds of spring turn to silence, but I couldn’t look away. The world was moving in slow motion and I couldn’t remember the last time I took a breath. I could see the back of a beautifully curled blonde head appear from the seat across from him and she leaned forward too, her intent slow, purposeful. They met in a soul-crushing kiss and I could feel my heart actually stop. My blood turned ice-cold and my head start to feel very light. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be. I continued to stare and took a step forward, already convinced it wasn’t him. But as he turned to the motion outside the window, the look in his eyes belonged to no stranger. It was him. And he knew it was me. There was no denying it. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, not sure of what to do next. He seemed to be going through the entire process, watching his world fall completely apart before his very eyes. You could see the struggle of his inward battle, whether to get up from his seat and run to me or stay as he was. Moments felt like days and he continued to sit. Glued to his seat. And that’s when I knew. This was how it was gonna end. In a world-crumbling moment of total betrayal. My knees started to buckle and I felt myself grasping for something to hold onto before my head would smack the hard pavement.

I took one step backward and then another. Steps turned into strides and then a full-on sprint back to my car. I threw my backpack in the trunk and quickly got into the drivers seat. I clutched the steering wheel in front of me, still feeling like I had just gotten off a winding roller coaster, with no brakes. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to steady my racing heart. I opened them back up and didn’t even bother looking behind me, before racing back onto the road, feeling more and more like I had just witnessed the death of my perfect life. Which, essentially, I just had.

My heart was still racing as fast as my car as I got onto the highway. My mind was drawing a blank and I honestly couldn’t recall what exit I had to take in order to get home. All I could think of was the amount of space I wanted to create between him and I. But no matter how fast I drove, the impending doom of the disaster I just faced, seemed to be close behind. My phone lit up in the passenger seat beside me, our faces smiling together from one of our first dates. I turned the ringer off and chucked the phone behind me into the trunk. I blasted the volume on the radio, hoping to drown out all of the thoughts rushing through my head.

As I adjusted the dial, I realized I missed my exit. But it didn’t matter. I just needed get far far away. Suddenly, a loud roaring came overhead, impeding over the loud music I already had playing. I looked up in time to see the underbelly of a 747, making a landing to the airport on my left. I felt the usual anxiousness whenever I saw a plane, my heart jumping into my throat. However, as nervous as I was about flying, I envisioned what it would be like to just take off and avert from this disaster that had just unfolded in the last 30 min. I looked again and could see the plane coasting to its terminal. My fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel. No. There’s no way. I could feel my car slow down as I lifted off the brake, deep in though. Cars beeped angrily behind me, but I couldn’t have cared less. Hands shaking, I quickly leaned over and popped open the dashboard cubby. There it was, my passport from the tax meeting I had recently, and kept forgetting to bring back inside my house. I slammed the drawer shut and focused back on the road before me. The lanes began to divide into multiple exits for the airport terminals. No. I can’t. I don’t have anything packed. I haven’t planned for this. Surely an international adventure would take weeks of planning. As I shook my head no, I squeezed my eyes shut to rid of this awful idea. But as I did, all I could see were those hands. That kiss. His face. And then I swiftly veered into the terminal one lane.

To those who may not know me that well, here is a little insider tip on the young Melissa: I've always wanted to be a writer. My family jokes that I would always have my nose buried in a book, but looking back there was always a book at my side; at school, in the backseat of our mini-van, even while brushing my teeth (actual photo evidence). While I feel like my career has taken me a different path, I still always aspire to be a published author one day.

So looking back at my old blog from college (yes Melissa Grace//In Progress is a still a thing of the internet..), I stumbled upon one of my very first fictional short stories from YEARS ago. And as cheesy as they are, my heart always beats a little faster when I'm brainstorming a new story idea or creating little movies in my mind.

So without further ado, I present to you a re-write of my fictional short story from college-Melissa. If you're a fan of cheesy Hallmark movies and chick-flicks, then this is for you. Highly recommend a cup of chai and fuzzy blanket for optimal cozy-ness #trustme

Saturday Tradition

Every day of the week, I make my own cup of coffee.  But Saturdays are different.  On Saturdays I let him make it for me.

Every Saturday is the same.  I wake up at six o ‘clock sharp, a ridiculous hour for most high school seniors.  I fumble around in my dark bedroom, trying to find my glasses, which are of course piled under a mountain of novels from the usual late night reading.

My fingers finally locate them and I proceed to change into my standard uniform of jeans and a flannel top.  I open up my shades and relish in the sight of fresh snow on the windowpane.

I quietly bound down the steps, grab my backpack and keys, and head outside to my car.

The snow has already covered my neighborhood street, creating a quiet and magical peacefulness as I brush the blanket of white off my car windshield.

As I continue driving the familiar route, autopilot kicks in and my mind wanders back to when this weekly tradition began.

I had just completed a pretty stressful week at school and I couldn’t wait until Saturday would come. I would spend the morning sipping coffee from my favorite café, and burying my nose in a book that I actually wanted to be buried in. While Aristotle was good for my mind, John Green was good for my soul.

I entered through the front door and shook out my coat from the snow dusting outside, already walking up to the counter with the usual order on the tip of my tongue.

As I removed my hood and looked up to recite my drink, my heart took a leap into my throat and I could no longer differentiate between a tall and a veni size mug.

The new barista returned my stare with the smile that had already captured the hearts of the entire female senior class.  The most popular, cutest, well-liked (scratch that) LOVED boy of the 12^th grade.

And here he was. In my café. Serving me coffee. At 7 in the morning.

I was barely able to squeak out my order and I quickly found my traditional spot in back recliner by the indoor fireplace.

And here began my secret weekend routine.

Saturdays were mine.  This café was mine.  And the quiet mornings shared between him and I; they were just ours.

Not that we exchanged anything beyond my recited lines of “medium hazelnut latte, please.”  But he always returned my order with a smile and a firm “Yes, ma’am.”

It was more than enough.  From the quiet corner of the café, I was able to truly see the boy most girls couldn’t comprehend beyond his smile and eyes.

I saw him banter back and forth with the usual customers, always making everyone feel welcomed as soon as they walked through the doors.

I saw him secretly pull out his own wallet and grab some change while an old lady embarrassingly rummaged through her purse for her last 25 cents.

I saw him bring out drinks to the table with the older gentlemen, who must also have the weekly tradition of coffees on Saturday.  Always taking a moment longer at their table, they would exchange a laugh or two, usually ending the conversation with a couple of slaps on the back.

But we kept our distance.  As I felt we should.

My mind focuses back into the present as I park in my usual spot and hustle through the heavy snow into the front door of the café.

The bell rings and he emerges from the back room, with a smile warm enough to evaporate the snowflakes stuck to my coat.

I walk up to the counter and before I could get out a single syllable, he already sets down a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.

“Medium hazelnut latte?  Got it right here for ya!”

My mouth closes and the shock temporarily freezes all communication aspects of my brain.   Finally, I utter out a small laugh, reach out my hands for the warm cup and retort, “Well I actually going to try something new today, but I guess this will have to do.”

He chuckles and hands me my cup, shaking his head in mock disappointment of himself.  “Maybe next Saturday?”

I look up and our eyes lock in a knowing exchange.  And suddenly it dawns on me. Maybe I’m not the only one who looks forward to these early Saturday mornings.

I take my coffee and walk back to the far end corner of the café.

I quickly glance back at the counter and see him helping the old lady order a new drink today, nodding his head, and pointing out all the different coffee varieties.

But, as swiftly as possible, he glances back at me and returns my stare with another warmhearted smile.

I turn back around and glance down at my newest novel sitting in my lap.

I open up the cover, skim the first page, but then close it back up and place it on the coffee table in front of me.

I relax into my chair, a goofy smile plastered across my face and I lift the brimming cup to my lips.

Maybe today I don’t read.  Maybe, instead of losing myself in a fictional story, I savor in this unbelievable piece of reality called Saturday.

this LATE Miscellaneous Monday post brought to you by:

*A long weekend of work and a much-needed Nashville marathon last night*

 Contradictory to the above mentioned Hulu-binge, I am a HUGE reader. No joke, my parents have a picture of me as a youngster getting ready for school, toothbrush in one hand and the other holding a book in front my face, just so I could finish that last chapter before heading out the door. I am my happiest when I can curl up with a king-size blanket, an even bigger cup of coffee and a fresh new book off the shelf.

Here is a list of some of my winter to-reads for the next couple of months!

1. The Magnolia Story I actually got this book weeks ago and still have it bookmarked on my nightstand. But if you love Fixer Upper (and who doesn't?!), then you have to read this book on how Chip and Joanna Gaines started their renovation business. I love reading both of their thoughts on meeting each other, getting married and starting their booming business, all while listening to the Lord on his direction. And of course, Chip is just as funny/crazy on these pages as he is on the show. (Joanna, you have the patience of saint for all of his shennanigans). HIGHLY recommend this book on America's favorite couple.

2.  The Shack This isn't a new book, but once I saw the trailer for it coming out this spring, I knew I had to read it before then. The story follows Mackenzie Phillips and his journey to find hope, after his young daughter is tragically abducted and killed. The movie looks amazing, so I can only imagine the book is even better. I know it's been out for a while, so let me know if you have already read this one! (And how many boxes of tissues I should stock up on beforehand..)

3.  Grace Not Perfection: Embracing Simplicity, Celebrating Joy Yet another book that is sitting on my nightstand, begging me to finish reading it this weekend (which I plan on doing!) I got this book from Tom for Christmas after stumbling upon Emily Ley's Instagram. Emily is a graphic designer, author, business owner, planner extraordinaire AND mother of three. PHEW-DA! But through it all, she strives to rise above chaos and choose joy by simplifying her routines and giving herself grace through it all. Like her planners, her book is beautifully designed from front to back with gold script and pages to fill in by the readers. I also keep eyeing the Gold Pineapple Daily Planner on her website...Tom? Yea maybe something for next Christmas ;)