Over Her Dead Body(22)

“Anyway, I have come to realize she’s the most incredible woman a man could ever hope to meet,” I told them. “And I wanted to ask for your blessing to ask her to marry me.” There. I said it. It didn’t come out as smoothly as I’d hoped, but at least I didn’t chicken out.

There was a long beat of silence. It was finally Evelyn who spoke first. “I . . . we . . . didn’t know you and Ashley, um . . . had that kind of relationship.”

“We don’t. I mean, not yet.”

Another long beat of silence. Sweat was running down my back. Do they think I’m crazy? Desperate? Delusional? Did they mute the phone to ask each other what kind of twenty-first-century man proposes to someone he’s not romantically involved with? I probably would have questioned it myself if I hadn’t been so certain Ashley and I could make each other happy. She already made me happy. And she had (finally!) tipped her hand that I did the same for her.

I was about to tell her mom and brother how she had stood by me through everything: helped me get ready for my board exams and held my hand when I was waiting for the results. And how I read lines with her whenever she had a big audition and drank tequila with her when she flubbed it. I would tell them how we had grown close in so many ways—one might argue, the most important ways. How we weren’t clouded by the drunken haze of sudden attraction. That our feelings for each other were founded on shared history and mutual respect.

But I didn’t have to say anything. Because turns out they had already formed an opinion about the prospect of us tying the knot.

“It’s about fucking time!” Billy bellowed, and I laughed with relief.

“Billy!”

“Sorry, Mom. I’m just ready for my baby sis to snag herself a stand-up guy. Someone who always does the right thing, sometimes at my expense—”

“I deserve that. And the shiner you laid on me,” I joked.

“What are you boys talking about?” I never told my mom about Billy’s locker room punch, and I guess Billy hadn’t told his, either.

“Just dumb kid stuff, ancient history,” Billy said.

“Well, if you want to marry her, it’s fine with us,” Evelyn said, then added, “And if you bring her back home, we’ll be doubly fine.”

“One step at a time, Mom,” Billy admonished. “He’s got to ask her first. When’s the big day?”

“I was planning to ask her on her birthday,” I told him. But Billy had different ideas.

“That’s not for another month!” he said.

“Three weeks,” I corrected him.

“It’s going to be hard to keep the secret for three whole weeks,” Evelyn teased.

“Did you get a ring yet?” Billy asked.

“I did.”

“So what are you waiting for? Do it now!”

I hadn’t considered asking her right away, but Billy’s excitement was contagious. I forgot all about that mountaintop. Now that I knew who I wanted to be with for the rest of my life, I wanted the rest of my life to start as soon as possible.

“You’ll know when the time is right,” Evelyn said. “We don’t mean to push.”

“Maybe I need a push,” I said.

“Haha, yes!” Billy said. “Keep us posted.”

As I hung up the phone, my smile was so wide it hurt my cheeks. I didn’t know what Ashley was doing this evening, but I was fired up to make good on that pact.





CHAPTER 17




* * *



NATHAN


Of course I remembered her name. Ashley Brooks. She had curtseyed when she’d said it, like a courtier bowing to her queen. It was a charming gesture, boldly theatrical but also adorably humble.

She was easy to track down. She was an actress. Before I left for golf, I typed her name into my browser and in 0.85 seconds I had over a thousand hits—theater and film credits, behind-the-scenes photos, headshots old and new, in color and black and white. I felt a tingle of relief that she was what she’d said she was—unlike the rest of us, who were masquerading as decent people while shameful secrets burned holes in our pockets.

I tried not to feel like a stalker as I scrolled through Ashley’s profile, reminding myself that she had put these photos online for all to see. She wanted the world to know her name, recognize her face, and yes—send her a message. I knew this because she had a “contact me” link on her acting website. As I hovered my mouse over the link, I suddenly realized I already had her number. It was on my phone from the night before, when I’d called her to come get her dog.

I felt a rush of nervousness as I opened my phone to view my outgoing calls. Still there—phew! The only thing to figure out was what to say. Before the indiscretion, I’d been pretty confident around women. It had been five years since I’d had a serious girlfriend (law school), but that was only because I hadn’t been captivated by anyone. Until now.

I saved Ashley’s number in my contacts, then left for my golf game. It was a perfect day, with just the hint of a breeze. I felt the sweet buzz of possibility as I pulled out of my garage and onto the freeway. I don’t know if Louisa had talked about me after I left (probably not), but if she did, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have said anything bad. Yes, she could be critical, but she liked me. Plus she didn’t know the bad stuff—stuff I was determined to put behind me now.