The Wife Upstairs(31)

I can’t tell if they’re being nice or fishing, so I decide to do a little fishing myself.

“Everything was so gorgeous that I didn’t really want to change anything. Bea really had excellent taste.” A self-conscious little laugh for effect. “I mean, I guess that was her whole career, having excellent taste.”

Emily and Campbell share a glance I pretend not to see.

“She did know how to put things together,” Campbell agrees at last, coming to stand next to me at the kitchen counter, propping her elbows on the granite. “But you know what? I always thought Blanche’s place was even cuter. No offense, Jane,” she hurries to say, and I wave it off even as I think back to the Ingrahams’. There was some cute stuff there, for sure, but maybe Tripp had made everything so grubby I hadn’t been able to see it.

“God, remember how pissed Blanche was when Bea’s living room got the big Birmingham Magazine spread at Christmas?” Campbell says, and I see Emily look over at me for just a second.

“Blanche was funny about Christmas,” she replies delicately, and Campbell pulls a face.

“Blanche was funny about Bea.”

Turning to me, Campbell tucks her hair behind one ear. “Sorry. We’re just here in your kitchen rehashing old gossip, aren’t we?”

“I don’t mind,” I say, and I really don’t. I feel like I keep getting these glimpses of Bea and Blanche that don’t line up with what I thought I knew, and I want more of them. Maybe if I can paint a full picture of Bea for myself, I won’t feel like she’s still here.

Like she could just appear around any corner.

Sometimes it feels like she has. Just last week a delivery truck showed up with fresh flowers for the house. A standing order from Bea, one that Eddie had never canceled.

She’s been gone for nearly a year, but the arrangement of lilies and magnolias on the front table of my house were hers, and every time I walk past them, it’s like I’ve just missed seeing her, that she’s just stepped out for a second.

But now both Emily and Campbell shake their heads. “No, we’ve imposed enough on you today.” Emily comes around the counter, kissing my cheek. “Thank you so much for hosting!”

“Happy to do it anytime,” I reply, and Campbell smiles, patting my arm.

“You are so sweet. Be sure to tell Eddie how much we appreciate him letting us meet here today!”

Aaaand there it is. They don’t see this as my house, either.

My smile is tight when I walk them to the door. I didn’t want to have to be this unsubtle about it, but I’m not sure I have a choice anymore. I can feel all this starting to slip away, slowly, sure, but still. If we’re not engaged soon, any of the ground I’ve won with the neighborhood women will be lost.

So when Eddie comes in, nearly an hour later, I’m on the couch, iPad in hand.

As I’d known he would, he leans over the side of the couch to kiss my temple. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs, and I can actually feel when he looks at the screen.

Behind me, his body goes tense.

“UCLA?”

I shrug, making no effort to hide the iPad or look sheepish. If I want this to work, he has to think I’m very serious about it.

“I told you I was thinking about grad school.”

He stands up straight, his hands still on the armrest of the couch, knuckles white. “In California?”

I turn, putting my feet down on the floor, and look up at him. “Eddie, I love you, and I love staying here. Love being with you. But I have to look out for myself. You understand that.”

He steps back, his arms folded over his chest. “I get that, but I thought … I thought I made it clear that I want you here. That you belong here. With me.”

Standing up, I face him, tilting my chin up. “I’ve been depending on myself for almost my entire life. I have had people say they love me and make promises they couldn’t keep in the end.”

Another step closer. I lay my hand on his wrist. “I’m the only person I can trust, Eddie. I learned that the hard way. You can’t blame me for making plans. It’s what I do.”

A muscle works in his jaw, and I wait, almost holding my breath.

He turns away, stalking toward the bedroom, and everything in me sinks.

I’ve fucked it up. I pushed too hard too fast, and now he’s going to throw me out. For fuck’s sake, I can’t even go to grad school, I never finished college, what am I—

Eddie comes back into the room, and I see the little velvet box in his hand.

I’m almost dizzy from the emotional whiplash of it all, but suddenly he’s in front of me, he’s dropping down on one knee, the box is opening …

“Marry me,” he says, his voice gruff.

My eyes are fixed on the emerald ring sparkling in front of me, a huge green stone surrounded by a halo of diamonds.

“I should’ve asked you weeks ago,” he goes on. “I’ve been wanting to.”

“Obviously,” I say, my voice shaky, and that makes him laugh a little, too, his features relaxing as he reaches out and takes my hand.

“Please, Jane. Be my wife.”

He slips the ring on my left hand, the metal silky and smooth, burnished with age, and even though it’s a little snug, it’s perfect.