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    Becca by the Book
    Becca by the Book
    Becca by the Book
    Ebook338 pages3 hours

    Becca by the Book

    By Laura Jensen Walker

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Adventurous and fun-loving Becca Daniels loves the rush of new experiences and is constantly pushing the envelope—trying everything from extreme sports, to wild hair colors, to skydiving. So when a broken leg grounds her temporarily, Becca doesn’t take the interruption well. Grumpy, restless, and at loose ends, Becca bristles one day when some of her Getaway Girls Book Club friends tease her about being commitment-phobic. To prove them wrong, Becca impulsively promises to accept a date with the next guy who asks her out; and to date him for three months or twenty-five dates—whichever comes first. Unfortunately, the first invitation comes from Ben—too “churchy” and definitely not Becca’s type. Determined to win the bet, however, the two embark on a hilarious series of dates that plunge the outspoken, purple-haired Becca into a sea of church potlucks and prayer meetings. Ultimately, the dating experiment opens Becca’s eyes to a new perspective on her life’s purpose and a new understanding of who’s directing her path—an epiphany that could lead to her biggest adventure yet.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherZondervan
    Release dateDec 22, 2009
    ISBN9780310560425
    Author

    Laura Jensen Walker

    Laura Jensen Walker is an award-winning writer and popular national speaker. Her previous novels include Daring Chloe, Turning the Paige, and Reconstructing Natalie, chosen as the first-ever Novel of the Year for Women of Faith® conferences. The author of several non-fiction humor books, Laura lives in Northern California with her husband, Michael, and their canine daughter Gracie.

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    3.5/5

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    • 3/5
      I liked this book - but I didn't love it. I had a hard time getting through the first few chapters. I couldn't relate to Becca at all - she is much younger than me (and when I was her age I was married and a mother) and she has little sense of responsibility. The sentence structure was choppy (to get across the way Becca thinks, but still, it bothered me) and there were way too many characters to keep track of (I had to keep going back to remember who everyone was). I did like the idea of the main character being a non-Christian surrounded by Christians. This is the third book in a series but I won't be reading the other two. I think I'm a bit older than the target audience.

    Book preview

    Becca by the Book - Laura Jensen Walker

    Also by Laura Jensen Walker

    Dreaming in Black and White

    Dreaming in Technicolor

    Reconstructing Natalie

    (Women of Faith Novel of the Year, 2006)

    Miss Invisible

    Daring Chloe

    Turning the Paige

    ZONDERVAN

    Becca by the Book

    Copyright © 2009 by Laura Jensen Walker

    All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Zondervan.

    ePub Edition November 2009 ISBN: 978-0-310-56042-5

    Requests for information should be addressed to:

    Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530

    Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

    Walker, Laura Jensen.

    Becca by the book : a Getaway Girls novel : book three / Laura Jensen Walker.

    p.   cm.—(Getaway girls ; bk. 3)

    ISBN 978-0-310-27697-5 (pbk.)

    1. Book clubs (Discussion groups)—Fiction. I. Title.

    PS3623.A3595B43 2010

    813’.6—dc22                                                                                         2009041415

    All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide.

    Any Internet addresses (websites, blogs, etc.) and telephone numbers printed in this book are offered as a resource. They are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement by Zondervan, nor does Zondervan vouch for the content of these sites and numbers for the life of this book.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

    Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920. www.alivecommunications.com.

    Interior design by Christine Orejuela-Winkelman

    Interior illustration by Ruth Pettis

    Table of Contents

    Title Page

    Copyright Page

    Chapter: One

    Chapter: Two

    Chapter: Three

    Chapter: Four

    Chapter: Five

    Chapter: Six

    Chapter: Seven

    Chapter: Eight

    Chapter: Nine

    Chapter: Ten

    Chapter: Eleven

    Chapter: Twelve

    Chapter: Thirteen

    Chapter: Fourteen

    Chapter: Fifteen

    Chapter: Sixteen

    Chapter: Seventeen

    Chapter: Eighteen

    Chapter: Nineteen

    Chapter: Twenty

    Chapter: Twenty One

    Chapter: Twenty Two

    Chapter: Twenty Three

    Chapter: Twenty Four

    Chapter: Twenty Five

    Chapter: Twenty Six

    Chapter: Twenty Seven

    Chapter: Twenty Eight

    Chapter: Twenty Nine

    Epilogue

    Book Selections in Becca by the Book

    The Getaway Girls Guide to Christianese

    The Quote Chick’s Favorite Literary Quotes

    Acknowledgments

    About the Publisher

    Share Your Thoughts

    For Sheri, so much more than a sister-in-law.

    And to Jennie and Kari, with love and gratitude for welcoming me into your family.

    Snorts and all.

    And for Alexandria Skye Damron, who filled our lives with so much joy.

    Jesus loves you, this we know…but we love you too and we miss you, sweet Princess Lexi, more than words can say…

    The soul should always stand ajar to welcome the ecstatic experience.

    Emily Dickinson

    I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;

    I fled Him, down the arches of the years;

    I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways

    Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears

    I hid from him…

    The Hound of Heaven

    1

    I have lifted my plane from the Nairobi airport for perhaps a thousand flights and I have never felt her wheels glide from the earth into the air without knowing the uncertainty and the exhilaration of first-born adventure.

    West with the Night

    Oh. My. God. What a rush.

    I couldn’t believe I was skydiving. At last. This totally rocked! As the wind whipped my face and I plummeted toward the ground, Lynrd Skynrd’s Freebird filled my head.

    Me, Becca Daniels, sharing airspace with eagles. How cool is that?

    Cool. And cold. My skin tingled and my cheeks flattened into my skull from the force of the wind and the tight goofy glasses they made me wear. But who cares? I was free-falling.

    I could stay up here forever. Away from dreary, mundane earthly pursuits like going to work, paying bills, and schlepping to the Laundromat. How boring is that? Talk about tedious. At least I don’t have a happy hubster, 2.5 kids, and a house in the suburbs.

    Thank God for that.

    I’ve never understood the appeal of that particular American dream. Being tied down to one guy, a mortgage, and a couple of rug rats?

    Not for this chick. I’ve got better things to do.

    Like traveling.

    Exploring.

    And skydiving.

    It doesn’t get much better than this.

    I felt a tap on my shoulder and Zach, my instructor who was strapped against my back for our tandem jump, let me know it was time to pull my chute. I reached down by my hip and pulled the cord. The harness jerked my body and we came to an abrupt halt.

    Only it wasn’t really a halt. Just an immediate slowing down—a huge change from when we were hurtling toward the ground mere seconds ago. Now instead of speeding downward, we were gently floating. Zach gave me the handles which controlled our descent, and I led us into a spin. And then another.

    Rock my world. Definitely the best adventure ever.

    So what’d you think? Zach asked after we landed and he unbuckled the harness that strapped us together.

    Loved it! Can we do it again?

    A woman after my own heart. He favored me with a sexy, gap-toothed smile.

    I never did like guys who were too perfect. The slight space—the width of a thin stick of gum—between his front teeth just made him all the more appealing.

    Another hundred and fifty bucks and we’re back up there, Zach said.

    That wasn’t as appealing. I’d hoped he might offer to take me up again. For free.

    In my dreams.

    I heard a squeal behind me. As I turned, the squeal turned into a roar as Jenna, my adventure buddy in crime, rushed toward me. With a giant bear hug, she tackled me, knocking me to the ground.

    Jenna’s usually a high-five girl, but your basic high five was totally inadequate for the moment. So, was that sweet or what? she asked.

    Oh, wow. I untangled my arms and legs, the adrenaline still pumping. It rocked! I want to go again.

    My roommate Kailyn joined us from the safety of the sidelines, shaking her head. I can’t believe you really did it.

    And I can’t believe you didn’t, I said. Oh wait, yes I can. You wouldn’t want to break a nail.

    Kailyn, with her flawless blonde hair, killer body, and designer flip-flops, is the girliest girl roomie I’ve ever had. Ever. And I’ve had plenty of roomies over the years. Of them all though, Chloe was the best.

    Even though she was a church chick.

    Too bad she had to dump me to go find herself in Paris. Not that I blamed her. I’d dump my grandmother for the chance to live in Paris for three months. Or Rome. Peru. Beijing…anywhere overseas. The more exotic, the better.

    Kailyn, my roommate of financial necessity, thinks I’m crazy for wanting to live in China. Or anywhere exotic, for that matter. Don’t they eat cats and dogs in those places?

    She’s another church chick. One of those perky ones.

    Do Christian girls take lessons in perkiness or what? Maybe it’s one of the Ten Commandments: Thou shalt always be perky.

    Whatever.

    Sometimes, though, it’s like fingers on chalkboard. Especially in the morning. Kailyn’s one of those disgusting morning people. She bounds out of bed at seven a.m., all brighteyed and squirrel-tailed, humming and dancing around like some Disney princess with a halo of happy bluebirds twittering around her head.

    Good thing I’m a pacifist. Otherwise, I’d blast thosestinkin’ bluebirds to kingdom come.

    Our first Sunday under the same roof, she sang in the shower while she shampooed her perky blonde hair, rummaged through her closet for her perkiest outfit to wear to church, nuked two perky cinnamon rolls, and then rapped on my door, singing out in her perky blonde voice, Rise and shine, sleepyhead, breakfast is ready. Want to go to church with me?

    I lifted my Seven Dwarves Grumpy head from beneath my pillow and yelled something I know she’s never heard in Sunday school.

    But we’re good now.

    Kailyn knows not to wake me before nine on the weekends, that I’m more a fruit and granola girl, and not to even attempt to make conversation before I’ve had coffee.

    She also knows better than to ask me to go to church. Not my thing. Too many rules and regs. And glitz. Some of those churches, especially those big ones, really creep me out. Too much Splenda razzle-dazzle.

    Like Mister Rogers on crack.

    Dancing girls, bright, shiny choirs, and men with Italian leather on their feet and more product in their hair than I’ve used my entire life. And don’t even get me started on the Step-ford women in their ice-cream-colored suits, plastic smiles, and matching pumps.

    My ratty Birkenstocks would definitely be out of place.

    And what’s up with all the committees, meetings, and campaigns? Is it a church or a corporation? Then there are all those holier-than-thou types putting on a show on Sunday like they’re all that, and then turning around on Monday and snorting coke or hitting on the hot barista at the coffeehouse when their wives aren’t around.

    Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have anything against Jesus.

    Jesus was cool.

    He took care of the poor, hung out with the lepers, and treated women well—unlike most of the men of his time. Really, if you think about it, Jesus was a feminist. But to some people, that f-word is a dirty word. And applying it to Jesus? Heresy.

    Another reason I’m not into church. Everyone gets so uptight if you take Jesus out of their churchy box.

    And that whole women and submission thing? Not in this universe. I so can’t believe women buy into that in this day and age. Hello. Is this the fifties or the new millennium?

    Seriously.

    As Kailyn drove back to our duplex, chattering all the way about some amazing close-out sale at her favorite shoe store, I tuned out and relived every high-flying second of my morning skydive.

    While we were watching the informational video at the parachute center that said they weren’t legally responsible if you died on your jump, one guy in the group turned white and booked it.

    Wuss.

    Hey, if it’s your time, it’s your time. Why not go out with a major rush?

    Once home, I log onto my laptop to scope out my Visa statement. Last I checked, I was close to maxing out my card. It didn’t help that my last job turned out to be a bust. Marketing, my foot. I didn’t get a degree in English to be a sign waver.

    Like Teddy Roosevelt said, A man who has never gone to school may steal from a freight car, but if he has a university education, he may steal the whole railroad.

    I didn’t want the whole railroad, but I did want a job with a little more meaning.

    My friends told me I should never have left Dunkeld’s Bookstore, but I’d been there over three years—a record for me—and gotten bored of the same-old, same-old. Yeah, it was great to be surrounded by books all day long, but at the end of the day, it was still retail.

    Unfortunately, in the two months since I’d quit, all I’d been able to find was a telemarketing job—where I got tired of people yelling and hanging up on me—a part-time barista job where I spent most of my paycheck on lattes, and this last marketing job where I spent an entire day waving a 30% OFF ALL FURNITURE! sign on a street corner.

    Really meaningful, that.

    I needed something exciting to get me out of my unemployed funk. And as I checked my credit card statement, I found it.

    The next day, I was up in the air again with Zach. Free-falling in that wild blue yonder on a clear, crisp April morning. And it was just as cool as the first time.

    Until the landing.

    2

    Seabiscuit surged forward, coming down heavily on his left foreleg. Woolf heard a sharp crack. Seabiscuit took an awkward, skipping step. His head pitched downward…

    Seabiscuit

    Leave it to me to break my ankle in two places—the tibia and fibula. Tibia and Fibula. Sounds like bustling fairies from some Disney princess film. Either that or the latest hip-hop duo.

    But I had no one to blame but myself. I didn’t raise both my knees the way Zach had told me to, so my left leg was in the wrong position as we approached the ground. And when we landed, I heard this sickening snap.

    The pain was so bad I passed out. When I came to, I was in the hospital and the doctor was telling me I’d need surgery.

    Another new experience. But somehow I didn’t think it would be as fun as skydiving.

    A few hours later The Getaway Girls clustered around my hospital bed with flowers, balloons, and assorted goodies, concern etching their faces. They took care not to bump my splinted leg that the nurse had propped on pillows.

    How are you feeling? Paige asked as she set a huge bouquet of wild-flowers down next to my bed.

    Like I’ve been run over by a freaking truck.

    You poor thing, Annette clucked, patting my hand. I told y’all skydiving was dangerous.

    Pushing fifty-two, Annette’s the oldest member of our book club, and the only one who’s served in the Air Force. As such, she’d tried to talk us out of our skydiving adventure, insisting that the pilots she knew said the only way you’d catch them jumping out of a perfectly good airplane was if the plane were going down.

    "Yeah, what were you thinking?" Kailyn demanded as she plopped a stuffed polar bear on my bedside table. She knows I have a thing for polar bears.

    I was thinking how I wanted to feel that rush again. That freedom.

    Well, I hope you enjoyed it, Tess said, because you’re not going to be free again for a few months.

    "A few months? But we’re supposed to go horseback riding next month after we read Seabiscuit."

    No horseback riding for you, young lady, Annette said.

    Maybe we could just rent the movie instead of going riding, Paige suggested. Paige is our resident movie buff. She knows more movie trivia than anyone I’ve ever met, and is always quoting from movies—especially the old ones.

    Me? I’m a book-quote girl. English major and all that. Last night I dreamt of Manderley again. All happy families are alike. Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

    Unlike most of the group, I don’t come from a happy, Mom-and-apple-pie family. My stoner dad left when I was six, and I spent the next decade-plus with my alky mother and her menagerie of husbands moving from one trailer park or cheap apartment to another. By the time I was a senior in high school, I’d lived in thirteen states. My biological mother—I didn’t think of her as Mom, since she lacked the maternal gene—missed my high school graduation. She was in jail.

    Again.

    For being drunk and disorderly. And when husband number four, Dirk the jerk, tried to give me his own special graduation present, I kneed him, slugged him, and left.

    I haven’t looked back since.

    Anyhow, my family is my friends—my book group friends, the Getaway Girls. And they’re an eclectic bunch.

    Annette and Tess are the oldest, in their early fifties. Tess is a little more hip than Annette though, with her cool red glasses and willingness to try new things. Annette’s a little more old-school. She and Tess are both married, although Tess is still a newlywed of sorts—not quite married a year.

    Chloe, my artsy former roommate who, at twenty-eight, is only two years and some change older than me, is even more of a newlywed. Sickeningly so. She and Ryan just got back from their honeymoon a couple weeks ago. They’re still in that sticky-icky sweet phase, all gooey for each other. Too gooey for me. I get a sugar high just from being near them.

    Get a room already.

    Paige is the next oldest member of our group, at thirty-six. But we don’t see Paige all that much these days. She’s crazy busy with work, going back to school to get her degree, and being a foster mom. And of course, dating Marc, Annie’s boss.

    I can tell that Paige will be the next one to bite the marriage dust. We should rename our group the Ball-and-Chain Girls instead of the Getaway Girls.

    Even Kailyn’s gaga over a guy. Although, when isn’t she? Her current crush is the actor who plays her love interest in her latest community theater production.

    Thank God for Jenna and Annie. Neither of them is even remotely close to a serious relationship, much less the dreaded M word. Jenna’s too busy competing in triathlons and climbing up the supervisory ladder at work, and Annie’s focused on school and way too young to get tied down.

    At twenty, Annie’s the youngest Getaway Girl and our newest member. She has short red hair with spiky platinum tips, a pierced eyebrow, and two small tattoos. And she always wears these great slogan T-shirts. Today her black tee says When God made me, he was just showing off.

    Nice shirt, I said.

    I can get you one if you like.

    Maybe later. I didn’t want to hurt Annie’s feelings, but I didn’t want to walk around with God plastered all over my chest. It was bad enough that I was going to have a cast plastered on my leg.

    It’s going to be tricky driving my car with this cast, I said. Especially shifting.

    Um, did you not hear what the doctor said earlier? Kailyn asked.

    Kind of.

    She was still in a haze from the pain meds, I don’t think it penetrated, Tess said, looking at me over her glasses. The doctor said you’ll stay off that foot for several weeks, with no driving for at least a month—maybe two.

    You’ve got to be kidding. How does he expect me to get around and look for a job?

    Good thing I kept up that insurance policy from Dunkeld’s after I quit, or I’d be in some serious financial hurt right now. More than normal, which isn’t saying much.

    It’s called friends, Chloe said. We’ll take you wherever you need to go. And you don’t need to be looking for a job right now either. The only place you’re going when you leave this hospital is home.

    That’s right. You’re not to even leave the house for four or five weeks, Paige said.

    I’ll go stir-crazy. What am I supposed to do all day long?

    Rest and heal, Annette said. And let your friends look after you.

    Thanks, but I can take care of myself. Always have.

    Trust me, Miss Independent, Tess said. I broke my leg years ago skiing and you’re going to need some help, so shut up and don’t be ungracious. We just need to make up a plan. She pulled out her Crackberry and the rest followed suit with assorted Blackberries, iPhones, and PDAs. All except Annette, who balked at technology and still carried a leather day planner.

    There was a flurry of conversation and activity as they compared calendars and figured out who would do what when, with each one entering it into their respective planners.

    All except Jenna.

    Tess looked at Jenna over her red-rectangled glasses. What’s your schedule like? Which nights of the week are best for you?

    Actually—she sent me an apologetic glance—I’m afraid none.

    Did your schedule get changed? Paige asked. I thought you usually worked days.

    I do. Usually. But…well, actually, I have some news.

    You’ve met someone! Kailyn’s eyes sparkled.

    No. Jenna lifted an eyebrow at my roommate. Everything doesn’t revolve around romance, you know.

    "That’s what I’m sayin’, I chimed in. Jenna and I were always on the same page while Kailyn went straight to the happily-ever-after ending. So, what’s your news? Did you get that promotion at work? Are they making you manager of the gym at last?"

    I did get a manager position—

    Congratulations! About time. I’m glad they finally recognize your worth. So will we get a discount now when we come to work out? Although—I glanced at my splint—I guess I won’t be working out anytime soon.

    Ya got that right, Kailyn said. The only working out you’ll be doing is hand-to-mouth as you shovel in all that delicious food Mama’s going to make you.

    I’ll turn into a blimp! No offense, Annette. I avoided looking at her middle-aged spread. You’re a great cook, but if I eat too many fried foods, I’ll swell up like a balloon.

    I do know how to cook things without fryin’ them.

    That’s right, Tess interjected. Besides, we’re taking turns cooking, so you’ll get a wide variety. I’m sure Jenna will make some of her healthy vegetarian dishes.

    I’m afraid I can’t, Jenna said. Thing is…I was promoted to manager, but not in Sacramento. I’ll be managing a new gym and spa we’re opening in Napa.

    Napa? But that’s nearly two hours away, Kailyn said. That’s going to be an awfully long commute.

    I won’t be commuting. Jenna took a deep breath. That’s the other part of my news…I’m moving. To Napa.

    What? I screeched. You’re kidding! When?

    Two weeks. That’s when my new job starts.

    But don’t you have to give thirty days’ notice on your apartment? Paige asked.

    Uh huh, but the company’s going to pick up my rent for the first month, so I don’t have to pay double rent.

    Score, Annie said. Where do I go to sign up?

    You’re not leaving the flower shop. Paige sent her a mock stern look. "Marc would be lost

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