My One and Only(42)

“Well,” I said. “Just be careful, Chris. Marriage is hard. I want you guys to make it, I do.”

“I really love her,” he said earnestly. “I haven’t known her all that long, I realize that, Harper, but I do love her.”

“Well, you better. You’re married now. All the days of your life.” I patted his shoulder. “Good luck. Really.”

As I climbed the stairs, I imagined I felt Nick looking at me, but when I turned, I didn’t see him.

Though I’d checked on Coco numerous times throughout the day and Dennis had taken her for a couple of walks, she was in full Chihuahua orphan mode, huge eyes, still body, not raising her head from her tragic little paws, looking at me as if I’d just locked her in Michael Vick’s basement. Her bunny was on the floor (I was sure this was deliberate), reinforcing the fact I hadn’t visited poor little Coco in nearly two hours.

I picked her up and kissed her funny little head. “I’m very sorry,” I told her. “Please forgive me. Pretty please.”

She acquiesced, morphing back into Jack Russell territory, and gave a wriggle of delight, then licked my chin, letting me know I was forgiven.

“Hey, you’re here,” Dennis said, emerging from the bathroom, his shaving kit in his hands. On the bed, his suitcase was open, clothes stuffed in haphazardly. I released Coco and began refolding his stuff so it wouldn’t wrinkle so much.

“Did you have a good time?” Dennis asked.

I gave him a look. “Not really, Den.” Putting his shoes at the bottom of the suitcase so they wouldn’t squish anything else, I took a deep breath. “Den, maybe we should talk, what do you think?”

“Um…okay.” He sat down on my bed; I sat on his, and we looked at each other—me the principal, Dennis the naughty child. I sighed. It was tiring, always being the one to take charge. But someone had to do it.

“So, Dennis.” I took his big hands in mine. “Listen. I asked you to marry me two weeks ago, and you haven’t said boo about it since. That probably gives me an answer, don’t you think?”

He grimaced but didn’t contradict me.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad.” Oddly enough, I wasn’t.

Dennis sighed. “It’s just…I guess I’m not really sure this is the way to go, you know?” He looked at me sheepishly. So handsome. His voice had a hopeful note, and this, more than anything, was what hurt me…as though Dennis had been a good-natured prisoner without much hope of reprieve, and I was his longtime jailer, just coming in with news of a gubernatorial pardon. “It’s like, if I’m not wicked psyched at the idea, maybe it’s not the right thing to do.”

Ouch. But he was correct—one should be wicked psyched at the thought of death do us part. Look at my own history. “Right. It’s a good point.”

“Not that I don’t, uh…you know, Harp. Love you. I do.”

I had to smile. “Wow. As declarations go, that was pretty lame.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” I squeezed his hands and then let them go. “Just for the record, I think you’re really great. You have a very big heart, we had a lot of happy times, and…well, I wish you all the best.” And you thought his declaration was lame.

He smiled broadly. “Same here, dude.”

Well, I wouldn’t miss being called dude, that was for sure. But I would miss Dennis. He was like a security blanket, but it was time to put him away, and just because I knew it didn’t make it easy. No strapping, blue-eyed children running around, none of the easy, taken-for-granted security in having an amiable companion day in and day out. No uncomplicated contentment. My throat tightened, and I swallowed—and for me, that was the equivalent of a weekend sobbing in bed.

Dennis took my hand and kissed it, an unexpectedly courtly gesture. I reached out and touched his hair. Good old Den.

“Wanna fool around?” he asked, looking up. “A farewell f—uh, fling?”

I choked on a laugh. “Oh, I think…I should pass, Den. Not that it wouldn’t be fun. Just probably ill-advised.”

“Had to give it a shot,” he said amicably. “I’ll take Coco out, then. Wanna go for a walk, Coco-Buns?” he asked, and my dog sprang to life as if electrocuted, leaping straight into the air at the W word, then grabbing her bunny in her mouth and shaking it exuberantly. “Back in a few,” he said, clipping on her pink leash. The door closed behind them.

With a sigh that started in the soles of my feet, I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The Plan to Marry Dennis was over. Already, the thought of the big lug’s absence echoed around my heart. I had a lot of good things back on the Vineyard, but Dennis had filled a big hole in my life. A big one. Now the thought of my future stretched out ahead of me. Alone again.

Buck up, I told myself. You have Coco. You have Ben & Jerry. A job you’re great at, friends, a deck and a view. You can still have a kid…adoption, sperm donor, new relationship, whatever.

But I’d miss Dennis. It wasn’t the yawning, bottomless panic I’d felt when Nick and I had imploded, but crap. It hurt anyway.

THE NEXT MORNING I WOKE abruptly and squinted over at the clock. 8:47. The room was empty; apparently I’d slept through Dennis’s departure. Indeed, if his flight left at seven, he’d be well on his way home by now. Lucky man. I hauled myself out of bed, the three martinis from yesterday making themselves felt. Coco raised her head from her bunny, affirmed that yes, I looked like utter crap, and rolled onto her back, legs in the air, and feigned roadkill. On the dresser, there was a note from Dennis.