“Disappoint him by being the victim of some random wasp, a one in a billion chance, but one with dire consequences.” And the consequences aren’t death. Look at Declan. Look at what he’s had to bear because of that randomness.
And Terry.
And me.
“See? Complex.” She gives me a sad smile, her eyes open and searching.
I see why Declan loves her so much.
“Why doesn’t Amanda believe me?”
“I think she does.”
“Then, when I told her I knew she was the only one for me—when I said I wished we had turned out to be married in Las Vegas—and she dismissed the idea...why?”
“Have you asked her to marry you?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
An image of the velvet jeweler’s box being eaten by a beaver at the bottom of Walden Pond clutters my mind.
“I meant to. Long story.”
“The Pride and Prejudice stunt?”
“Right.”
“Did you say earlier that you lost the ring in Walden Pond?” Her eyes crinkle in amusement.
I nod.
“At least she didn’t swallow it.” Shannon’s hand goes to her throat, fingers fluttering at the hollow.
I laugh.
“That’s cute—the Pride and Prejudice thing—but did she want that?”
“Did she want what?”
“All that? The pageantry, the silliness, the finery?”
“She wanted to be courted.” My voice lifts on the last word, like a sarcasm breeze blew it into the clouds.
“Did you ask her what she meant by that? What she was really asking for?”
My shoulders drop and I look up at a lone cloud in the sky, a white puff against the bright blue.
“No.”
“Why don’t you find out what she really wants?”
“And then what?”
“Then give it to her.”
I sigh. “When did being an adult become so complex?”
Just as Shannon laughs, Jeffrey and Tyler come running down the path, Jeffrey’s shirt pulled out and turned into a holding case for a pile of ice cream bars.
“What’s this?” Shannon demands. “Where did you get all this?”
“Andrew gave me a twenty,” Jeffrey explains. “So?” He shrugs, as if he’s not responsible for the sudden appearance of three bomb pops, two SpongeBob Squarepants ice cream bars, and three Reese’s Cup ice cream bars.
“So you bring back change!” she sputters.
Jeffrey gives me an even stare that reminds me of Declan as a kid. “Andrew didn’t say to bring back the change. You and Mom and Aunt Amy and Grandpa and Grandma always say it.”
“JEFFREY!” Shannon explodes, taking in a deep breath, clearly ready to unleash a parental lecture.
“It’s fine.”
I subvert her.
Jeffrey looks at me like I am a god. Declan told me that little boys are easy—just joke about poop with them. I’ve got him one-upped.
Buying them lots of ice cream is even better.
“What?” Shannon gasps, all that energy in her lungs ready to do indignant damage.
“It’s fine. He’s right, even if he’s being cunning and using semantics to test out the world.”
Jeffrey’s eyes narrow. I narrow mine right back as we stare at each other.
That’s right, kid. I’ve got your number.
And in ten years, come work for me.
“But—”
Jeffrey reveals his wares to me, like a dog rolling over and showing his belly in submission. “Pick your poison, Andrew.” He glances at Shannon, turns back to me, and says in a very pronounced, stilted voice, “Thank you very much for the treat.”
“Thank you!” Tyler says to himself, staring at the googly eyes of his Spongebob popsicle.
Then he eats them, cackling.
“How are we going to eat eight ice creams!” Shannon bursts out.
“Two each,” Tyler says.
“Good math.” I ruffle his hair and give them each a look I can’t quite describe, just as a bee makes a lazy path toward Tyler’s ice cream. It’s not a wasp, but still...
Shannon starts herding her nephews off the path and back to the relative safety of the asphalted parking lot. There’s no panic in her movements. Just a calm, centered aversion to risk. She moves quietly, but with purpose.
I grab an ice cream bar from Jeffrey and rip it open, sinking my teeth through the hard chocolate outer shell, tasting peanut butter and ice as we walk away from the bee.
And walk toward my future.
Chapter Twenty
I didn’t have to ask Amanda what she wanted. I just knew. It’s been a month since the Walden Pond fiasco, and we’ve both been busy. I was gone for nine days, then she was gone for four, and in between has been glorious.
Divine.
And I want so much more.
Arranging dinner tonight, here at Consuela’s, is perfect. The exclusive rooftop-garden restaurant owned by my dad’s celebrity-chef friend was the site of my first date with Amanda. This place holds meaning for us. Aside from being beautiful and intimate, the expansive view of the ocean gives it a carefree feeling of potential, as if the world were limitless.
I now know that love certainly is.
First, we’ll have dinner by candlelight. Then, a special dessert (not tiramisu) and go straight to the proposal. Finally, Dad and Pam and all our family and friends will show up for a big surprise party.
See? Perfect.
And I didn’t delegate one bit of it to Gina.
It’s seven p.m. and I’ve cleared the entire restaurant, paid for the night, and Consuela’s brought me a fine bottle of red wine, which is airing nicely as I wait for Amanda.