Forever, Interrupted(73)

“I think we should get married,” he said. “What do you think of that?”

I laughed, completely unsure of how serious he was. “Why do you keep joking like that?” I said. I sounded more exasperated than I wanted to.

“I’m not joking,” he said.

“Yes, you are.” I finished the Pop-Tart and wiped my hands. “Stop joking about it or you’ll end up married,” I said.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so.”

“So, if I said, ‘Let’s go get married today,’ you’d go get married today?”

“What are you doing? Daring me?”

“I’m just asking a question, is all,” he said, but the tone of his voice wasn’t one of a hypothetical question. I suddenly became embarrassed and anxious.

“Well, I just . . . ” I said. “You wouldn’t.”

“Would you? That is my question.”

“You can’t do that! You can’t ask me if I would if you wouldn’t!”

He grabbed my hand. “You said I wouldn’t. I didn’t say that.”

“Are you asking me to marry you for real?” I asked, finally unsure of how else to figure out what conversation we were actually having.

“I want to be with you for the rest of my life and I know that it is soon, but I would like to marry you. I don’t want to ask you to marry me if it freaks you out or you think it’s crazy.”

“For real?” I was too excited by this idea to trust my own ears.

“Elsie! Jesus! Yes!”

“I don’t think it’s crazy!” I said. I grabbed him as tears started building in my eyes. I looked at him.

“You don’t?” I could see his eyes start to water as well. They were growing red. His face was no longer carefree. It was sincere and moved.

“No!” I could no longer control my voice. I could barely control my limbs.

“You’ll marry me?” He grabbed my head on both sides and focused my face on his. I could feel my hair crinkling between his hands and my ears. I knew we both looked silly on our knees in the middle of our crumpled bed, but I could focus on nothing but him.

“Yes,” I said softly and stunned, and then it grew louder and louder. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I said, kissing him. He was holding on to me tightly. I have no doubt that some of our neighbors thought they were overhearing something they shouldn’t have.

We fell back onto the bed and proved them right. “I love you,” he said to me over and over. He whispered it and he moaned it. He spoke it and he sang it. He loved me. He loved me. He loved me.

And just like that, I was going to be part of a family again.





NOVEMBER


By the time Sunday afternoon rolls around, Ana has been well indoctrinated into this new, luxurious lifestyle.

She, Susan, and I are lying out by the pool. The weather has started to cool during the nights, but the days are still hot enough to lie outside. Given that it’s early November, it makes me especially glad to live in Southern California. Winter is upon us, and yet, I can barely feel a chill.

Ana read an entire book this weekend. Susan cooked every meal as if she was a gourmet chef. I mostly lazed around like I have been doing, getting to the point where I am so bored that I yearn for some sort of life again. A couple of times yesterday I pondered whether to pick up a hobby. No final decision has been made.

We are all in a little bit of a food coma from the soufflé Susan made for our “lunch dessert,” as she called it. We are all quiet at the moment, but I decide to break the silence.

“So what are you and Kevin doing this week?” I ask.

“Oh, not sure,” Ana said. “Although, did I tell you? He asked me to meet his parents.”

“He did?” I ask.

“How long have you two been together?” Susan asks.

“Oh, just a few months now. But I really like him. He’s . . . ”

“He’s really sweet,” I say to Susan. I mean it, so it comes across like I mean it and I think it touches Ana. I still maintain that he’s a bit blah all around, but you don’t need spice in the boyfriend of your best friend. You need him to be reliable, kindhearted, and sincere. You need to know he won’t hurt her, if he can help it. You need to know he has good intentions. By all of those accounts, I like Kevin. (But he’s boring.)

“Are his parents from around here?” I ask.

“He’s from San Jose. So it’s a few hours’ drive, but he said he really wanted them to meet me.”

This touches a nerve with Susan. I can see it. Ana probably can’t, but I’ve done nothing but sit around with this woman for five weeks now. I know her like the back of my hand. I also knew her son and I’m learning that they aren’t altogether terribly different people.

Susan lightly excuses herself as Ana and I continue to talk. I remember when I was happy like she is, when Ben felt invincible to me like I’m sure Kevin feels to her now. I remember how I felt like nothing in the world could take that feeling away from me. There was nothing I could not do. But instead of hating her for being happy, I can see now that I am feeling melancholy, nostalgic, and a little jealous. It’s not perfect, but it’s certainly a lot healthier than last month.