LoveLines (28 page)

“Bailey
Bailey Bailey,” he murmured.

“Yes?”

“How did you get your hair to look like that?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” I replied. “Nicki’s hairstylist did.”

My mass of brown hair was pulled up, strands woven in and out of one another all around my head like a crown, decorated here and there with Nicki’s wedding flowers. All of the bridal party members were required to wear their hair up because Nicki wore hers down. I didn’t complain. Her hairdresser made me look like a character out of a fairytale.

“You’re a princess,” Reece said.

I giggled.

“What? Cheesy?”

“A little. But I love it.”

He squeezed me
, and leaned in. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Gosh, I wish. But if I’m not there to take charge of the bubble
-blowing at the end of the night, Nicki will never talk to me again,” I said.

“No rice?” Reece asked.

“Are you kidding me? You think Nicki would stand for rice being thrown at her?”

He shook his head. “Can’t you just put the bubbles out with a note attached?”

“No, sir.”

He sighed. “You’re a better sister than she deserves.”

I shrugged.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to sneak out for a quickie,” Reece said.

I blushed. “Where?”

He scanned the room. “I don’t know. We’ll find a place.”

“I’ve never done it in public,” I confessed.

“Well, that’s because you’re a rule follower, Bailey,” Reece said. “But lucky for you, I’m not.”

He popped my butt and ordered me to get moving. We disappeared from Nicki’s world into our own—into an empty storage room—where Reece transformed my wedding exhaustion into sexual exhaustion.

***

I didn’t get a wedding. I got a puppy instead. It was a huge step in our relationship—sharing a dog—and I suppose it sealed the deal in a way. She was no engagement ring, but she was a hell of a lot cuter. And if Reece could commit to raising a dog with me, then surely that meant forever.

“I’m naming her Poppy,” I said, tickling her pink belly.

She was an eight-week-old West Highland White Terrier, and I researched all about the breed before I decided on her. It was really the Cesar dog food commercial that hooked me, but I knew better than to make such an important decision based off a thirty-second ad. I spent days reading and calling other Westie owners, asking endless questions and absorbing as much as I could to make the right decision. She would be a lot of work, but then again, I was a lot of work. Maybe she would further help in managing my OCD—help me learn to let go even more.

I was hopeful. Reece was skeptical.

“They bark. A lot,” he said.

“I know.”

“They have Napoleon complexes,” he continued.

“I know.”

“They hold grudges and aren’t that affectionate,” he went on.

“I know.”

“They have to be groomed.”

“Yep.”

“They’re known for having major skin problems,” Reece said.

“Okay.”

“They dig.”

“Uh huh.”

Reece placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him.

“Listen to me, Bailey,” he said carefully. “They dig. They’re earth dogs. They go after vermin. She will tear your back yard to shreds if she sees a chipmunk.”

I cracked a smile. “You backing out of this?”

“What? No! I’m just trying to make you understand the kind of commitment that goes with owning this type of dog,” Reece explained.

I held Poppy in my lap on the drive home. She sighed and snuggled and slept against my arms, and I thought absurdly that I was building a family—not the conventional family like Erica’s, but it worked for me. And I was happy. For the first time, I opened my home to another person. I gave it to him. I invited him to be a part of every aspect of my life. And he gave all of himself in return. I no longer looked at it as my house, my yard, my neighbors. They were all his, too.

It felt only natural to continuing progressing—moving forward with confidence that our relationship was secure and strong. He was faithful to me. And he trusted me. So why not take the next step? Why not share a living something together? (Plants don’t count.)

“Bailey Bailey Bailey,” Reece muttered as we pulled into our driveway.

“You love her,” I replied, holding Poppy up to his face. He kissed her coal nose.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

And just like that, we were a family. Weeks passed in this
hazy, love-drunk state of a couple riding together to work, walking their puppy in the evening, sitting outside in the candlelit, star-popped summer nighttime drinking chilled wine. Watching for the elusive firefly. Listening to the song of crickets over the rustling stems of flowers bending in the breeze.

Sometimes it overwhelmed m
e, and I waited for the day when my OCD would splash black paint all over my perfect picture, erasing the easiness that had become my life. Suffocating the woman who decided to let go. Replacing her joy with fear.

“I imagine it’ll be like this forever,” I lied one night as we sat under the pergola, trying to teach Poppy a new trick.

“Down,” Reece kept saying. “Down, Poppy.”

She stared.

I sipped my wine and said it again. I wanted his affirmation, and then perhaps I could flick away that nagging feeling for good—just set it on the tip of my thumb and catapult it with the forward thrust of my forefinger.

“Easy to think that way when you have a back yard that looks like this,” Reece point
ed out. “Poppy, sit. Good girl. Down. Poppy, down. Down. D—”

“Well, I know,” I said, twirling a strand of hair around my finger.

“What happens when it turns cold?” he asked.

“Literally or figuratively?” I replied.

“Both, I guess,” he said. “Poppy, down. Down. Down, Poppy. Poppy—”

“Honey, give it a rest,” I said.

Reece sighed. “Fine.” He scooped up the puppy and placed her in his lap. She lay down.

“Ha
ha,” I laughed.

“Maybe she didn’t
wanna lay on the pavers,” Reece said.

“Who would?” I asked, and finished my wine.

“Bailey? I know what’s going on with you.”

“You do?” I asked, pulling on
the spaghetti strap that fell off my shoulder.

“You’re getting worried. You’re getting worried because things are so good,” he said, scratching Poppy’s ears.

“Life doesn’t move like this,” I said. “At least not mine. I’m used to ups and downs. Never long blocks of perfect time. I feel like if it keeps heading in this direction, I won’t be able to handle when something really bad happens.”

“And what do you think is
gonna happen?” he asked.

“That’s precisely my point!” I replied. “Shit always happens. That’s what it does.”

Reece covered the dog’s ears.

“Not in front of the baby,” he chastised.

I rolled my eyes. “Be serious, Reece. I’m scared. I mean, weeks of this? That can’t be good.”

“All right, then. Pick a fight,” he said.

“What?”

“Pick a fight. Let’s head it off at the pass. Preemptive strike. Whatever you
wanna call it. ‘Cause I’m not about to listen to this for the next couple of weeks. So go on. Pick a fight.”

“That’s stupid,” I mumbled.

“It’s stupid that you’re worried over nothing,” he said.

“No, I’m just a planner, okay?”

“No way! For reals?”

“Shut up.”

Reece chuckled. “Bailey, calm the eff down.”

“Did you seriously just say
that? She doesn’t know what a cuss word is.”

“Nevertheless . . .”

“And then you follow it up with ‘nevertheless?’ I think I’m going to bed.”

“I think you’re
gonna stay out here with me and help me finish this bottle of wine,” Reece said.

“I’m getting fat,” I argued.

He lifted my shirt and took a peek.

“I think you’re hot.”

I swatted his hand away.

“Stop being a grouch and enjoy this night with me, okay? You’re not getting fat, and there’s no immediate issues we need to deal with, and I really need you to drink a lot so that I can do dirty things to you later.”

“I don’t even wanna know,” I muttered.

“Sweets?”

“Hmm?”

“Everything’s fine. And it’ll continue to be fine. Let’s just enjoy.”

When a person says everything’s fine, you never believe it. Ever. Because he can’t possibly know, just like you can’t know that it
won’t
be okay. It’s like being trapped in emotional limbo. If you’re a go-with-the-flow person, then I suppose you never experience emotional limbo. Because you’re not a worrier. But if you’re an over-the-top scheduled planner, you visit emotional limbo rather frequently.

Reece had no idea what I was talking about because he
didn’t worry. But I knew deep down that my ticket was up, and I was expected to report to limbo in a matter of days. I would try to draw it out for a week or two, but my anxiety would catch up to me. She always did. And I’d yet to outrun her.

Camden and Christopher grinned at Reece
from across the table like a couple of idiots. They were enjoying pizza at Slice of Life downtown before catching a comedy show at City Stage.

“You couldn’t have picked a
better one,” Christopher said. “Bailey is the bomb.”

“Oh, I know it,” Reece replied.

Camden nodded. “When are you doing it?”

“Her birthday,” Reece said
.

He closed the little black box, hiding the one-carat princess cut from view. Thank God he asked Erica to accompany him
to the jeweler. He would have gotten it all wrong, leaning toward a pear-shaped diamond wrapped in a yellow gold band.

“What the fuck, Reece?” Erica snapped. “It’s hideous!”

Kirk, the salesperson, stiffened.

“Who the hell suggested this?
” she went on.

Reece glanced at Kirk. “Umm . . .”

“How about I show you some others?” Kirk suggested.

“Yes
, please. That sounds like a good idea,” Erica replied. “Princess cut for sure. Platinum—”

“Platinum?!” Reece exclaimed. “What the hell, Erica? I’m not made of money.”

“—at least a carat,” she continued.

Reece’s eyes bugged.

“It’s called a payment plan, Reece,” Erica explained, placing her hand on his forearm.

He shook his head. “I don’t do payment plans. I pay the full price up front.”

“Well, then I hope you’ve got about twelve grand in your pocket,” Erica replied.

“Holy shit,” Reece whispered.

Erica softened a bit. “Look, honey, you get one chance to get this right.”

“Only one?”

She nodded.

“Bailey’s not like that. She’s not diamond-dazed,” Reece said.

“Reece, all women are diamond-dazed.”

He grunted. “Well, I don’t know . . .”

Kirk placed a dozen loose diamonds on a velvety cloth in front of them and began explaining each one.

“
What about her?” Erica asked, pointing to a large stone in the center of the group.

“
She’s . . . imperfect,” Kirk explained. “If you’re looking for size, and you aren’t too concerned with inclusions, she’s it.”

“Can you see the inclusions?” Reece asked, holding it up.

“Look for yourself,” Kirk replied.

Reece studied the diamond. The only thing he could see was sparkle and shine. He looked at the salesperson and shrugged.

“Exactly,” Kirk said. “Unless you’re a gemologist, you wouldn’t be able to see them.”

“Them?”

“There are two. May I?” he asked, extending his hand.

Reece dropped the diamond in his palm, and Kirk turned it over.

“You see?” he said.

Reece leaned in close and noticed a small black speck in the diamond. Kirk turned over the stone.

“Now look again,” he instructed.

Reece
squinted his eyes but couldn’t see it.

“So the underside doesn’t count?” Reece asked.

“When it’s mounted, who will see it?”

“Is it cheap to purchase a flawed diamond?”

“Depends on what’s important to you. She’ll never see that speck unless you point it out. If you look at the surface of the stone, it’s bright, clear, and big. For most women, that’s all that matters,” Kirk said, glimpsing Erica for agreement.

“You got that right,” Erica said.

“You said two flaws,” Reece reminded the salesperson.

Kirk turned over the stone and pointed out the second speck—a dark gray
pinprick dot. Barely noticeable.

“You and Bailey,” Erica said.

“Huh?”

“The two flaws. They’re you and Bailey,” Erica explained.

“That’s cute,” Reece replied, rolling his eyes.

“I’m being serious! This is your diamond, Reece. It’s real and flawed and gorgeous.” She snatched the diamond from Kirk and held it under Reece’s nose. “Look at this thing! It’s breathtaking.”

“Is it?” Reece asked Kirk.

Kirk nodded. “If that diamond didn’t have inclusions, it’d be twice the price.”

“TWICE?”

Kirk nodded.

“Inclusions are good,” Erica said. “Inclusions are real.”

Reece rubbed his jaw. “And she’d like this cut?” he asked Erica.

“Oh yeah.”

“And she wouldn’t want yellow gold?”

“Does she look like a yellow gold girl to you?” Erica asked. “I mean, nothing against yellow gold, but that’s not her.”

Reece nodded, thinking.

“Would you like to see some settings?” Kirk asked.

“We sure would,”
Erica replied cheerfully.

Christopher and Camden cracked up as Reece relayed
the entire visit to the jeweler.

“So basically Bailey’s best friend is proposing,” Camden said.

“You’d think. She bossed me the entire time,” Reece replied.

“You
oughta be happy she was there. She kept you from buying an ugly ass ring,” Christopher pointed out.

“It wasn’t ugly!” Reece argued. “Just not her style evidently.”

“No, her style happens to have a one-carat minimum requirement,” Camden said.

The men laughed.

“Women,” Christopher muttered, shaking his head. “They don’t know what they put us through. I fear the day when I gotta diamond shop.”

“A Honda Civic,” Camde
n said.

“For real,” Christopher replied
. “How she gonna justify wearin’ a Honda Civic on her finger?”

“
I don’t think they look at it that way,” Reece said.

“I’m practical,” Christopher went on. “I’d save t
hat money for a down payment on a house.”

Camden laughed. “Man, no you wouldn’t! As soon as you find the girl you’re
gonna marry, you’ll plunk down all your cash for the ring she likes. That’s one area where women have all the power.”

“One of many areas,” Reece added.

“How come we do anything they want?” Christopher asked as he chomped.

“You know the answer to that,” Reece rep
lied.

“Tits and pussies,” Camden explained.

Reece rolled his eyes. “You didn’t have to say it.”

Camden grinned. “Tits. And. Pussies.”

“Stop saying ‘pussy.’ Kids are in here,” Reece admonished.

“
So is that a Honda Civic in that box?” Christopher asked.

“You
wanna see the stone again?” Reece replied.

Christopher smirked and finished his slice.

“You taking her somewhere special?” Camden asked.

Reece shook his head. “Nope. I’ve got it all planned out in the back yard.”

“The back yard?” Camden said doubtfully.

“You’ve seen Bailey’s back yard,” Reece said.

“You mean y’all’s back yard,” Christopher corrected.

Reece nodded. “I’ve been cleaning it up and repairing the walkways and everything since March. She’s been helping me plant. It’ll be ready for her birthday.”

“I don’t get it,” Camden said.

Reece paused, deciding how much he wanted to share.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he began.

“Oh, we will,” C
amden said. “And then we’ll steal the idea when we’re ready to propose.”

Reece chuckled. “Well, I’m
gonna decorate the back yard. She used to have twinkle lights all over before the hurricane destroyed everything. I’m gonna string lights all around, and put candles everywhere, and surprise her with a new and improved oasis. And cook dinner for her. And get her these little cakes she loves from a bakery down the road.” He fell silent and waited.

“I like it,” Christopher said finally.

Reece wasn’t convinced. “She’ll get it. She’ll understand. Her back yard is really important to her.”

Christopher and Camden grinned at one another.

“Dude, it’s a really good plan,” Camden said. “And it’s special. Much better than going to some restaurant. She’s gonna love it.”

Reece smiled. He felt more encouraged.

“Just four weeks to go,” he said. “I’m itching to give it to her.”

“I can imagine,” Camden replied. “But why’d you buy the ring so early?”

Reece thought for a moment, and then he smiled. “She’s turned me into a planner.”

***

It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. Not that he was happy Erica was sick, but that Bailey would have a legitimate reason to be away from the house all day. She offered to help Erica with the kids since Noah was away on a business trip, and it gave Reece all the time he needed to stage the back yard for optimal romance. Christopher and Camden offered to help. They argued that the job was too big for one man. As much as Reece wanted to take all the credit, he agreed with them and made plans to meet at nine the following morning.

“All right, lover boy,” Camden said. “What’s in your bag of tricks?”

The men sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee and eating Bojangles biscuits before the work began.

“I have a shed full of plants,” Reece said. “I’ve been hiding them for three days.”

Christopher burst out laughing. “How much you spend on those plants?”

“I don’t know. Like four hundred
bucks,” Reece replied.

Now Camden laughed. “Reece, you’re an idiot.”

“What?!”

“How you
gonna put plants in a dark shed for three days and expect them not to wither and die?” Christopher asked.

“I’ve been checking on them,
doofus,” Reece replied. “Only chance I got to buy them was three days ago. I’ve been trying to sneak stuff in this house all week without Bailey finding out! It’s really hard when she knows every square inch of this place and what’s in it! Get off my back!”

Christopher
’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. Calm down.”

“I’m stressed out over here!” Reece went on.

“‘Cause you put too much pressure on yourself,” Camden explained. “You don’t have to ask the world’s most romantic proposal, Reece. “

Reece snapped his head up. “Yes
, I do.”

Camden sighed. “Look, Bailey’s
gonna like whatever you do. She’d like if you asked her over corn dogs at the fair. She’s chill like that.”

Christopher nodded. “She’d like if you went surfing with her and asked her.”

“Oh, a beach proposal,” Camden chimed in. “Yeah, that sounds right up her alley. You could—”

“I’m not asking her over corn dogs!” Reece cried. “I’m not asking her surfing! This is what I’m doing!” He jabbed his finger on the table to make a point. “This right here! I’m planting those goddamn flowers and stringing lights, okay? That’s what I’m doing!”

“That’s cool,” Christopher mumbled.

“I hear
ya, buddy,” Camden said.

“She don’t want no corn dog anyway,” Christopher went on. “I don’t even think she likes corn dogs . . .”

“Chris, shut up,” Reece said, and hopped up from the table.

His friends, who still had half their biscuits to eat,
abandoned them and followed Reece out the kitchen door. That seemed like the wise thing to do. Reece was on edge—on the very edge of the edge.

And then the work began. Reece had one last
garden to plant. He and Bailey restored the others, salvaged what they could of the old pergola and built a new one, and replaced the cracked pavers in all the walkways winding about the yard. Reece even installed a small fish pond with a waterfall near the pergola, and today’s task was turning it to magic.

The men planted, mulched, raked, scrubbed, swept, and clipped all day long. Reece wanted vases of fresh flowers on the patio table and
the tables under the pergola, and put Camden in charge of arranging the bouquets. They didn’t turn out quite as he’d hoped.